He wished he could tell her he wasn't and why. He simply smiled and shook his head, "You g'on an' believe dat. An' f'de record, smokin' hasn't killed me yet." He looked over at her and shook his head, "F'a girl, you got quite a motherin' attitude 'bout you." He slowly stood, and put his arm around her shoulders. "You gunna nag me 'til I'm layin' down, jus' know it. So Remy better get layin' down 'fore you have to." He ran his hand over her shoulders and started towards the living room. He sprawled languidly on the couch, favoring the least wounded side, and sighed, holding the blanket of light over him. "You gunna be okay to go home soon. Thanks f'your help, petit, wouldn't ask f'it."