Is there a type of good crazy? Hell if he knows. He's never encountered it, and he's pretty sure that all his fucking baggage discounts him from being anything other than a liability.

"I'm...I guess." He sounds winded. He's gonna need a few moments to actually process how he feels about this once the adrenaline high dies down. At the moment, his blood's rushing too loudly in his ears, his heart thudding too heavily in his throat, for any clear thought to manifest.

"...are they all like that?"