Reyes' fingers are bruisingly tight around his own arm, nails digging in. It does nothing to detract from the rest of the pain. He didn't really expect it to, it's just habit. A few, measured breathes heave in and out of his chest. Fuck, that hurts even worse. He really got his ass handed to him. It takes him a while to even notice there's someone else there now, nothing but a buzz of proximity on his senses.

He glances up, but even the dim light of the room attacks the pounding headache he has. Morrison is so damn worried, though. Even the barest glimpse he got tells him that. It's a pleasant surprise, being worried about. It's not a completely new thing, but it gets him every time.

Cringing, he gives a scoff of a laugh and still tries to grin wryly. "Which is it, then?" he croaks out weakly.