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"Pffffffffttfftft," Evan replied, awkwardly waving off Peyton's refusal. "'S not that bad, it's--it's only a flesh wound." He had heard that in a movie once, he thought, or maybe he was just used to hearing it every time he got hurt. It's only a flesh wound. Walk it off. No big deal.

/This is totally different! Sit still or I'll sing at you, and I know a lot a lot of songs and they go on forever./

That didn't sound like fun at all, so Evan obediently stayed put and took far too long contemplating Peyton's question. "Action," he finally said, slow and uncertain and with a note of query in his voice as if he wasn't sure he was giving the right answer. "Or comedy. Or action-comedy. Funny explosions. Is that a thing?"

"'Kay," Evan agreed easily, muzzily--he was hardly fit to hold a coherent conversation at the moment, but he could follow simple orders. Besides, for all of his insistence that he didn't need to be there, staying sounded a lot easier than going.

He had started to drift off while Peyton was gone, the acts of eating and talking and trying to string two thoughts together having expended more energy than Evan had thought. Any was too much when every spare joule was needed for recuperating. He jerked back into wakefulness--ow, and also ow-- as Peyton came back in with a laptop.

"What're you--ooooh," Evan trailed off, his curiosity at Peyton's seemingly sudden and random presence quieted at the prospect of a movie. "I like Aliens," he said. "Wouldn't wanna fight one, though. Or eat one." Because both of these things were somehow important in relation to fictional aliens.

"Some people like exotic food," Evan said defensively. "Aliens would be like. Eating a giant bug, though. Bugs are gross. And then it might eat you from the inside."

His attention was caught by the opening credits and he stared at the screen, the words blurring in front of his eyes. It made what he was seeing all the more surreal. "Aliens would make good weapons," he noted a few minutes in.

"Like...RPG launchers," Evan continued, seriously considering it. "Only instead of rockets, they could shoot those little alien tongue head things. They could just bite people instead of explode. Or they could bite people and then explode. That would be awesome."

He trailed off, watching the screen with glassy eyes and then added, a few minutes later, "Pewpewpew."

"We can make them," Evan replied stubbornly. "Getting them to bite and then explode will take some figuring out, but," he trailed off, his attention caught completely by the action on the screen. About halfway through the movie he passed out entirely, his eyes still half-open and staring at nothing. His chest rose and fell steadily, a sure sign that he wasn't dead, just sleeping.