"You should see the other guy," he croaks, because he thinks he's hilarious.

Duly unsettled, he takes a sip of water, pauses, then drinks half of it in one go. It does make him feel slightly less shitty, so there's that. She can stare enough for both of them, he keeps looking around, trying to remember where he is and shit what it must be like at home, all the shit he has to do — "How is it out there?"

He's too foggy to sign, but he makes the effort to make the movements of his lips distinct and not mumble, so she doesn't have to strain to hear.