Yeah. [He hesitates a beat before deciding that this whole looming over her thing is not really working out for him, so he kidnaps the chair that had been set up near the bed next to hers and pushes it over so he can sit down next to her. He slides his hands in his pockets and regards the opposite wall, then the bedside table while he explains, because it might feel distant and barely real, like some half remembered dream, it's still not exactly fun to remember.]

I got stabbed trying to break my inmate - my old inmate - out of an alien prison. It happened pretty fast. [It had barely even hurt, that's how quickly he'd died. There had been a lot of blood, and he'd collapsed, and passed Ben the gun he'd stolen, and that was it, really.

Somehow, falling off the train seemed like it took longer, even though he knows that's not true. A couple seconds at most had stretched out to feel like minutes.]

You'll be okay, though. The symptoms start easing up in a couple days, then it's like it never even happened.

[Physically, anyway, but he doesn't think he needs to rub it in that this isn't something she's going to be forgetting about soon.]