"No, you wouldn't," he says with a chuckle as he carefully accepts the bowl with both hands. Fearful of dropping it, he just settles it on the bar before him and pulls up a stool, awkwardly bending his knees to fit on the seat.

"I still can't quite believe we did it. I still think I'm going to wake up and that thing will still be heading for us," he says, closing his eyes as he inhales the smell of the stew. He can't taste anymore, not after the last time he died, but this has become the next best thing.