[It's surreal, uncommon and strange to have someone give him these little, meaningful affections, the gestures carrying so much more weight than he should probably let them. But Connor's touch-starved and high on painkillers and for once, he feels like he actually matters after believing for his entire adult life that he could die easily and alone and nobody would give two shits one way or the other. He sucks in a deep breath and lets his head fall back against Sean's shoulder, eyes back on the window.]

That wasn't the first time I'd ever seen you. When you hid at my table to get away from Marcone's guys. I'd spotted you around, before. Just loitering, doing your job sometimes. I was still working on building a proper case. Finding bodies, building connections, digging up names...the stuff I'm actually good at, you know? I never once really looked at you and thought 'hey, I should talk to that guy, he looks like he could tell me things'. Maybe you would have run, or told me to fuck off, or...I don't know. Tried to punch me. You never gave me a reason to do anything to you. And then you came and hid and I ruined your life.

[He swallows as he lets his head loll to the side, staring unfocused into the middle distance.]

I'll make this right. I don't know how yet, but I will. I just have to get out of here first.