"Well, you ain't got a fever." His hand doesn't want to fall back to his side, so he doesn't make it do anything it don't want; it slides to the side of her face and settles in there for the duration. "If I hadn't seen some of the stuff I've seen on that island, Freckles, I'd be a hell of a lot more skeptical. From crazy French chicks settin' booby traps in the jungle to whispers in the dark to boars with a grudge to smoke monsters, makes what you saw sound almost mild."

After all that, he ain't gonna put nothin' past no one. But he sure would like to be a fly on the wall listenin' to Superman explain that some day, if he ever does. Guy's kinda quiet, like Jin before he learned a lick of English, quiet that way.

And no, after careful consideration, his hand ain't goin' nowhere. For hours and hours and hours last night all he wanted was to get a chance to touch Freckles one more time, one last time. Now he's got it, he ain't gonna let it go so fast. "So a man who just had wings and claws but don't no longer gives you somethin' to wake you up, then hands you what, a little bottle and says drink this and you do, just like Alice gone down that rabbit hole? And then what happens?"

There's got to be more. Her story's already winnin' the who-had-it-stranger contest.