York turns his back on the door (he can't really keep anything from happening if someone really wanted to fuck him up right now) and does his best to fall in a protective curl. Moving his legs still hurts but then so does everything else. Doesn't matter who's around or what's going on, he's not moving.

He has clocked out for the moment, fuck everything.

Delta's chip, on the other hand, lights up the storage unit with a hastily cobbled together morse code of blinking lights, attempting to communicate in that fashion if York wouldn't permit him their usual means. In the storage unit he is- isolated. Blind.