[The line of Hank's shoulders and the line of his mouth both sort of droop in unison, his shoulders going from high and alert to low and slumped, his face twisting up a little. His voice droops to match, all the care and caution dropping right out of it.]

Right. Forgot, you can run your own diagnostics, you're a big boy. Just don't freak out on anyone on your way back, okay?

[He turns toward his room and pushes himself off the wall, trying to push himself away from Connor's steadying hand, as he does it. He sways, scowling, and sets off toward a door that, hey, is probably the one he's looking for. Who cares? They all look the same, and in dreamland doors open up wherever you want them to, anyway. That's probably how it works.]