There was something about his expression that unnerved Toby. It was like he was talking to her father or crazy Uncle or something, not just some guy she happened to work with on the X-men team. He swallowed hard and scowled a moment but before he could open his mouth to explain a sister came over to help dress his wound.
Toby's instinct was to cover the wound with shadow, keep her from hurting him more.
"Sorry," he muttered, and he used a hand to brush away the tendrils, made a sharp gesture that spread the shadow into their proper, natural angles under the bed. He watched the sister work, made no noise save for a couple hisses when she cleaned the gash out. When she finally left the shadows quickly crept back up over the bed and moved over his stomach like a blanket.
"I take it you shared the vision," he asked, sitting up slow. No need to beat around the bush, right? And he didn't want to talk about his job, not at all.