With great power, comes great responsibility.

"Well, given that I'm showing elevated levels of stress right now..." I reply, though in my irritation, I pull on the wire to roll the monitor closer, jabbing the power button to shut the damn thing off. I don't exactly need my panic advertised, here, though some part of me can't help but feel disgusted that I'm scared of a dying man. Still, in spite of his health, he has a distinct advantage over me, and given how we last left each other, the reaction's not entirely unwarranted. Even injured, my posture's as defensive as I can manage, which isn't much at all. "I oughta have you thrown in jail."