"Nothing-" Matt said quickly. Too quickly perhaps. His skin was prickling. He should have been able to shut it out but the sensory overload of everything around him was putting the feel of rough material on his skin at the bottom of the list.
"Nothing. It's nothing. It's nothing. I'm just... I think I...pulled a muscle," He lied unconvincingly. He didn't have the strength of mind to try and act more persuasive. He struggled to pull his shirt over his head, gritting his teeth and trying hard to focus on something else, something that wasn't the high-pitched electrical hum or the roar of the recycling air vents or the smell of disinfectant and bodies and ancient brain matter.
The only thing even vaguely familiar and steadying enough to focus on was Frank's heartbeat. He took a deep breath and let his hearing zero in on the deep thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. It helped. Matt tried to broach a conversation again, the soft clink of the chain on Frank's chest drawing him back to Frank's words.
"You're still that guy. Maybe that's why they came with you. Maybe the things that we are were the things that we brought with us. I have my-- I have the things that make me who I am as well," Matt offered sympathetically. It seemed the world was determine to remind Frank of what he'd lost every single second of the day.