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Depictions of reaction to trauma in the media usually fall into two camps - characters either shrug it off and are back in fighting shape by the next scene (perhaps clutching at a shoulder that has had a bullet pass through it but is otherwise perfectly serviceable), or they're haunted by PTSD, drinking cheap whiskey straight from the bottle by the side of a bare mattress soaked in flashback nightmare sweat.

For all its hyper-sci-fi surreality, I think the best depiction I've seen of it was Robert Downey Jr.'s performance in the third Iron Man movie, where Tony Stark's history of near-death escapades catches up to him, but - and this is important - it neither defines nor limits him.

As the central ego element of my Freudian Trio, Jamie exists as both authorial avatar and plotline catalyst, so it's important that his curiosity and creativity remain irrepressible. A comic about a shattered husk of a man struggling to learn to live again wouldn't have nearly so many opportunities for dick jokes... but, by the same token, a comic about a bulletproof smarm factory wouldn't have opportunities for emotional depth and connection, either between characters or with the audience.

(Monday morning, EXT:street)

ChA: So why did you commit James Kowalski's address to memory?
JH: Well, it's like any other life-threatening situation. My brain was in overdrive, trying to find a way out, everything was imprinting.
ChA: I wasn't trying to kill you. Not the first time we met, anyway.
JH: You were trying to find a way to keep me in the system, to get me to prison. A guy like me wouldn't survive in prison. That's not hyperbole, that's not an exaggeration. I wouldn't survive in prison.
ChA: Fair enough.
JH: The same sort of thing happened when Knight jumped me, actually. I can still hear his voice, see the streetlight glinting off his nose ring...
ChA: His nose ring?
JH: Or when I was in the back seat of my car and it got pushed down a ravine, that got imprinted. Or the time I chopped my thumb off and we had to go to the hospital with it in a bucket of ice...
ChA: You're a very unlucky man, Mister Halliganiv, you know that?
JH: Well, I'm still sitting here breathing, I'd have to disagree with you.