If there was an easy way to get Sam's attention, even when he was still only halfway conscious, short jokes were definitely it.

"Shut up, Dick," he mumbled, eyes still closed, though he was starting to stir. "At least 'm not a -"

His eyes opened, and whatever he was going to call Rich never made it out. For a long moment, nothing made it out; he stopped, mouth hanging open, and just stared. Rich looked like hell.

Rich looked worse than hell, honestly.

"...I did that," he said numbly.