A groan heralds Barrow's full return to consciousness, and his first instinct is to prop himself up on his elbows, but the incredible pain in his midsection prevents it. He flops back down with a wince and a heavy sigh, but the faintest smile dances onto his face-- he's awake, and not shaking, and remarkably lucid. He can deal with pain.

"Doc," he lolls his head to greet Strange in a rasp, clocking his presence, "what's new?" Is this what the other side looks like? Is it the sore serenity that follows the days and nights of misery, of disjointed, half-dream-half-lived moments he can't quite remember?

Has he done it?