"I suppose we were," the Scarecrow said with a nod, "but I don't think it really matters too much now, now does it? It has been a whole week, after all. And I've had a lot of talking to do since then, especially with the military being here and now being gone and all."

And that was the truth- with every week that passed, the former strawman's mind had more and more to worry about, and he wasn't sure if it could handle so much when it was in a broken state. While he was fortunate the clever little thing didn't act up as much as it used to— and he assumed that was because he'd figured out how it worked, and therefore had some degree of control over it— that didn't mean his brain was in the same working order.

Oh, if only he could make it work when he needed it, too! Then he might be able to determine what had happened to his vanished friends and what could be done about them. If they were out there, beyond the walls of Landel's, they would need help to remember who they were. Not only would he be able to do that, but he could figure out what was to be done about Hunk Howard and his body, he thought. He couldn't just stay someone else forever, especially if he was just borrowing their form.