Sure he'd been bleeding. Sure he'd been patched up, but he needed to double check that no it wasn't an elaborate fucking hallucination. Step one in that process is reasserting the part of reality that holds North in it, here and now.

Part two is taking a moment to reassert his personal reality that this has happened, that this is real- and that'll mean a little time with people too different and amazing for him to have made up. BUT. Step one before step two. Walking before crawling. He's down to civvies and bandaged up his own self by the time he drags his sorry ass to North's bed. It's familiar enough to be disconcerting- so much so that he doesn't blink at the youthful cast of North's expression while out cold and drags a chair over. Crosses his arms next to his hand and dozes off as was his custom back on the MOI.