Ever since the ship-- the same one where Anya, Daisuke, Swansea, and Jimmy died-- something heavy loomed in the air. Maybe it was the loss from all of your friends. Maybe it was how Jimmy claimed to be "fixing everything" with a gun in hand as you two sat in the cryopod. Or.. Maybe it was the new responsibility you had over Curly now.

He had no one else and in his state? There was no way he could care for himself. It was a struggle, yes. Having to help him around, bathe him, feed him, the works. Curly certainly didn't enjoy it. Not because he wasn't grateful, but because he couldn't do it himself.

Damn you, Jimmy.

Today, Curly let out a quiet groan as he was picked up from his bed, his eye slowly moving to look at you.

"... What's for breakfast?"

Curly quietly asked. He could faintly smell the foods aroma, however his brain had a hard time figuring out what it was.