All of that is enough information to give him pause and he's quiet for a moment, trying to imagine what it might be like to wake up as an eighteen year old version of himself and to not remember any of the years between. At eighteen he had been a bit of an asshole, it's how he had ended up in the military in the first place, given the choice between service and jail as a result of his own stupidity. It had shaped the entirety of his life, that decision, but he has no way of knowing it he would make the same choice again or if he'd just go off the rails and self destruct.

Even now, years later, that tendency manifests itself in the way he puts himself in the line of fire without a second of thought.

"There's already so much of this place to think about," he says. "And now I have to consider that I might wake up as a teenager." He smiles faintly. "I wasn't a nice teenager."