CONT
@pittresilience
Shane stares at Jack for a long beat, his expression flat except for the faint furrow between his brows that deepens the longer the other man talks. The monitors beep steadily beside him, and he shifts slightly against the pillows, wincing as the movement pulls at bruised ribs.
He lets the silence stretch just long enough to be uncomfortable before exhaling through his nose.
"...Truth," he says finally. His voice is low, a little rough from disuse and whatever pain meds they're pumping into him. He meets Jack's eyes with the same stubborn calm he's been wearing since they brought him in, though there's a reluctant glint of amusement buried under the exhaustion.
He lifts one shoulder in a minimal shrug. "Ask your question, then."
His tone makes it clear he's not exactly thrilled about playing games in the middle of the ER, but he's even less thrilled about the alternative—actually explaining how he ended up here.