The hand on his cheek prompts Neil to look at Alex, to consider the man with open eyes. The other man's mien holds concern with a tinge of exhaustion and sobriety, and Neil knows it is all because of him. He's fucking twenty-four. He should at least try to not worry one person so much.

"It's not you. I think I'm just all over the place." What with a piece of his brain floating in a marked jar and all. Neil attempts a smile, which comes out strained. "Could you tell me how your plan went? I need something to keep me from sleeping for awhile." From dreaming, of course.