They're in their hotel room after the Oilers game when Kaner asks, "Why does this whole meditation thing matter so much to you, anyway?" "It helps me focus and relax," Johnny says, hoping that'll satisfy him. But Kaner's eyes widen. "You mean you'd act even weirder if you didn't meditate? Shit, dude – now I kind of want to see what you'd be like without it." "You really, really don't," Johnny says.

They're in their hotel room after the Oilers game when Kaner asks, "Why does this whole meditation thing matter so much to you, anyway?" "It helps me focus and relax," Johnny says, hoping that'll satisfy him. But Kaner's eyes widen. "You mean you'd act even weirder if you didn't meditate? Shit, dude – now I kind of want to see what you'd be like without it." "You really, really don't," Johnny says.

They don't meet again until after they're both superheroes.

“Geno? Are you okay? Physically,” Sid asks, which is good, because Zhenya doesn’t think he can put into words how he’s feeling emotionally. He imagines saying, The person I’ve loved for ten years finally took me to bed last night, but it turns out he didn’t want to, and now I can read his mind. No, thank you. “Feel fine,” Zhenya answers. “Even head feel fine.” And suddenly he realizes how fucking odd that is: he was concussed, and the room is brightly lit – he should be hiding under a blanket right now. He narrows his eyes and asks, “Sid, why head feel fine? What happen to concussion?” Sid takes a halting step closer to the bed and says, “Our bond, it’s—it’s a healing bond.” “Holy mother of God,” Zhenya breathes. So. They’re definitely not breaking the bond, then.