[There's orange juice - several jugs, in fact, along with milk, other juices, protein shakes of various kinds. The first month or so he could hardly bring himself to buy anything, feeling almost traitorous for ignoring rationing. The next several he could hardly keep himself from emptying entire shelves out of curiosity. It's evened out since - he keeps what he needs and half the local grocers must think he hosts a small army on the weekends.]

Six months. [He twists the faucet handle with almost too much force, bending it slightly but catching himself before it breaks. The water trickles to a halt, but Steve leaves himself folded over into the sink.] Six months, three weeks, two days since I woke up. It hasn't been a century for me. It hasn't been a year. Haven't had time to get out of practice.