Kavinsky hesitated. There was a truthful way to answer that, and a way where he'd be able to shrug off the pain right now, as if the question hadn't already brought back the clearest of the memories he'd rather not be in possession of. That's not enough, Ronan had said, and it hadn't just been the quality of the dream that had helped K fill in the gap, to know that he'd really meant you're not enough. Not good enough. He couldn't remember, precisely, what happened after that, though. He knew he'd intended to wake with the dragon, but he couldn't remember actually doing it. Surely he'd been awake when the portal or whatever had consumed him, but it was all dreamy, soft and hazy and unsure.

Eventually, he replied, "Yeah. Fuckin' party of the year, planned it for weeks." It was almost sarcastic, a touch bitter. But, when he continued, his tone was a bit gentler. "You don't remember where you were?"

The other answer made him feel some sort of way. Complicated. Maybe relieved. "Fuck no. I've got enough power; I don't need more." The fuck would he do with more power? It wasn't like it would fill the gaping hole inside of him, the part of him that was desperate for kinship and affection. "Not sure how I feel about justice and whatever else, but at least that didn't feel like I'd end up as part of some fucked up dark empire or something."