All I want is something to numb the fucking pain if they're going to sew me up. [Which is to say, I'll take what they give me as long as they have something to give me.

Regular tape will probably start coming off sooner rather than later, what with skin's natural oils and all, but if that's what they have, then she'll deal. Though maybe she can hold it in place under a tight shirt.

Actually, that's a good point.] I need a new shirt. Mine is practically a rag right now. A six hundred dollar rag. Fuck's sake.

[Not that she wants to stay here, but she hasn't had much of a choice in what happens to her all night. Yeah, of course there's no way out. The 'on purpose' thing confuses her, but before she can ask about that, Chris keeps going.

And that is something Emily really doesn't know how to feel about. On the one hand, fuck Mike, he seriously thought about killing her. On the other hand, it's Mike, and there was a time when she'd trusted him with everthing (well, almost, but definitely more than other people), and she still misses him, goddamnit. Before he'd pointed a gun at her, she would've liked to stay friends with him. Now? Well. Everything's different now.

She frowns, precisely because she's not sure what to say to that. It's a few seconds before she comes up with something to respond with.] That doesn't make sense. What do you mean, 'he just disappeared'?

[She's guessing it's something like how she 'just appeared' here, but who the hell knows anything anymore?]