[ For half of a second, his skin crawls at the contact, and he flinches away--

But something in his head shrieks again, shrill and sudden like the screech of an alarm, and he screws his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose.

When the moment passes, he lets out a shaking breath, and he drops his hand to seek out Warren's. He looks up at him with a tired, apologetic smile, a surge of affection blooming in his chest and turning the expression fond. ]

I'm sorry. My head-- the accident, I think.

[ He sags against the headboard, struck by how tired he is, how sore and weak. ]

Have I been sleeping long? I feel rather as though I've been hollowed out.