God, this sounds stupid even to me.
So, since even I can tell I'm beating around the bush. How many people are bothering you? I can't poke my nose outside the door without some reporter shining it. I can't believe what happened when we got off the boat. I mean, I can, and I know why they did it, but hell. It feels weird. Did it feel weird for you too? And we're still all over the news... sometimes I think we'll never be off it. It's freaking embarrassing. And that memorial service they have planned... I understand why they're doing it. I'm even glad they're doing it. I'm also angry. How does that work? They're taking it away from us, almost. And half the company's not even here, so where the hell do they get off having a memorial service that most of us can't even attend?
I don't even know what I feel, you know? Help me out here, you're good with feelings. Fang would just tell me to shoot something.
(I already tried that. Doesn't work.)
Anyway. The leg. Your kids. Reporters. How's it going for you? And have you heard from the bug?
So it's not just me. I guess I'm glad? Maybe not. I know we need some heroes, I mean, I'd be the first to say that sometimes you have to do something for morale that seems stupid or insincere, and then it becomes sincere because people need it. But it's what everyone else needs. It feels like... no one's asking us what we need. I guess some of us need to be heroes, but not from a distance, you know? It's one thing to be a hero and have people throwing confetti on your head in the Main Street parade. Another when you get the confetti thrown on the wounded that dragged in, half-dead, off the transport while the rest of the so-lauded group's off on an alien rock somewhere, legging it through the Warren.