The aftershocks of the psychic feedback were slowly but surely fading. That was very good, actually. Jamie remembered how, when he was younger, the death of a dupe had been so jarring it left him in a coma for a few days. This? This felt like he was going to be able to shake it off in a few hours, although he wasn't looking forward to the lingering hungover feeling that he was sure would follow.
He made a face at the questions. "I'll be fine," he answered, slurring his words. "No nausea. Lump on head says yeah," he ground out. "Twenty five."