I don't care when it's obvious that my morbid jokes about being shot in the head are a coping mechanism. I'm dead, it's somebody else's turn to be uncomfortable. And anyway, some vindictive part of me almost enjoys it when people from home look guilty about it.

Jaime's a better hero than I ever was, and I couldn't be prouder to see him carrying on the Blue Beetle legacy.


Every time I talk to Skeets, something in me resents the fact that he's here and not Booster.



I miss home.