( If Nero said that out loud, that bit about not being a coffee guy, it might actually be the most distressing thing Jack has heard since being kidnapped and trapped in this pit full of monsters with a bunch of cultists who keep drugging them. It's just- it's inherently unfathomable to mister four-to-five-pots-a-day over here.

Also known as mister brain damage, who has a condition that makes his memory unreliable at best and shitty at worst. He tends to space out, or blank on really common things that he should absolutely remember and know.

When he does, it sort of feels like a mental itch he can't scratch. He feels it now, squinting at this guy. )

Thanks, but I don't need a babysitter.

( Why does he look so familiar? Think, Jack. Come on. It'll come to you. )

I mean, this sucks, but it's not, like. The worst thing I've ever been through, so you'd probably be way more useful babysitting somebody else. Not- that I'm not appreciative of the thought or anything. Just. I'm fine.