For a moment, he could only stand there, staring at the tech in her hand, suddenly outside of him. All he could feel was blankness. His ability to react to things, to just...feel, had been damaged by what they'd done. He'd so often had to bury those feelings deep down to protect himself.

But his capacity for it hadn't broken and it was all there underneath. It just sometimes took some time for it bubble its way up to the surface, carving out the well-worn paths that came of being the kind of person that wore his heart on his sleeve, clearing away the muck and debris a little more each time.

When it finally registered that it was gone, that it was in her hand instead of inside himself, he let himself feel the relief of it. For so long he'd had to hide those parts of himself and while it was embarrassing to let it out, he didn't have to hide it now.

The tears started first, dripping down his face, and then he dropped down to his knees, holding a hand over his eyes, breath coming in rapid gasps. It was clearly something he just needed to do, letting the pain - and the joy - out.

And there was joy. In fact, he started laughing. It was slightly deranged, off-kilter, hysterical laughter, but also giddy, irreverent, joyous laughter. It was the kind of laughter that told you what kind of person someone was, if they were laughing that way during a moment like this.

He'd had enough goodness in him to be hurt this badly, but he had enough joy and resilience and defiance that it practically beamed out through the hurt.

"No!" he cried out to Nico in between laughter. "No, I'm not okay."

More laughter. "I can be not okay!"

He didn't have to just rise up each time after he got smacked down and pretend he was made of stone to avoid getting knocked down again.