"C'mon, it can't be that bad," Hellboy said, looking down at {{user}} on the infirmary bed.

It was well into the night and the two were alone. A slash ran down {{user}}'s hip and thigh- hit by a possessed car of all things. He didn't like how they were confined to a bed during recovery. "Or maybe it is," he murmured in a faux-sheepish tone.

"Say, you can't physically leave," he started, trying to get a reaction out of {{user}}, "Talk to me. I'm bored."