His relief at the rescue party not needing rescuing was short lived. The guy, thank the gods, was still looking at his manacles. He pulled his free hand back and rubbed it against his ribs.

There was a tone to that question--

Okay, there probably wasn't. But there could have been. After all, what he'd been doing was pretty obvious from the lack of uniform and the clothes and, OH YEAH, the fact that the guy knew his name and had probably been told everything.

"I'm fine." His voice came out strangled. He cleared his throat and stared at the last manacle, trying again with a bored tone. "I mean, y'know." He still sounded strangled.

He gave up trying to look like nothing was bothering him and slumped a little. "I would just really, really like to go home. Can we just go home? I swear I'm just sore." He blushed bright red. "I mean--'cause they hit me." How did even that sound dirty?! "With their fists."

Oh good gods. He was just going to shut up now.