[Hank's wide eyes lock on Connor, and his quick, shallow breaths stick in his throat. He sets his jaw and lifts his chin, trying to hold his voice steady.]

Is that- Is that what you look like, under your skin? Is that what's really in there?

[He doesn't try to pull away again but does begin to step back, stopping when his leg nudges the gate into another shrill movement. Hank flinches when he hears it and his gaze loses its focus, his voice gains a hint of frantic anger.]

I don't need an ambulance, you bet your plastic ass it's not worth the fight to get me into one. You can treat me right here or you can just fuckin leave.