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From a distance, Curly must have seemed like the happiest man on Earth. He had survived against the odds (he never got to tell Anya how amazing she was, that she even kept him alive), and successfully sued the people who helped make this happen. The living ones at least.
So why did he feel like he wanted to crawl back into that cryotube and never get out?
He thanked whatever friend had the foresight to suggest he get a hotel for the next few nights in case his address got leaked for the press. He fumbled with the key card for a second -his grip wasn't the best, but not like he could use the fingerprint scanner to get in- but was eventually able to tap it against the lock. The door opened automatically after that and Curly shuffled in with a little huff.
Excited little barking and the thump of a tail against the bed immediately greeted him, and some of the heaviness lifted. He couldn't afford a proper service dog when he'd barely been covered for the prosthetics and all his extra money was going towards the lawyers (he refused to take Daisuke's family’s money. Not when he gottten Daisuke killed) but Little Buddy had done wonders for him even as just a random mutt from the shelter.
‘We did it, we won.’ is what he wanted to say, but his vocal cords were shot and they were still working on basic commands with the dog, let alone teaching him sign language. Curly liked to believe Little Buddy understood regardless. His friend who worked with animals said some pets form psychic connections with their humans.
Little Buddy yipped again, and wiggled as Curly sat down on the bed beside him. Curly gave the dog the lightest pat he could. He was still relearning how to control his hands. Curly was relearning a lot of things now.
How to walk, how to talk (he didn't think he ever would), how much everything was truly his fault. He was the only one alive who hadn't been punished for this mess. It would be insane to say that his body being in this state would be considered his punishment, so now he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He still had so much to atone for. Getting his crew killed, repaying the ragtag crew that had to come clean up his mess. He even felt guilty somehow for that crew having to find Jimmy's twisted birthday party with their loved ones, like there was anything he could have done.
And as Curly started spiraling, Little Buddy whined and rested his head on Curly's upper leg. One of the few parts of his body he still had feeling in. Little Buddy looked up at him with wet, trusting eyes, and Curly knew one thing.
He didn't deserve anyone's trust, or to be allowed to answer emails from concerned friends because he didn't deserve them anymore either, but for Little Buddy he would try to pretend.