[He never thought he'd be so glad to see what may be one of the crappiest hotel rooms he's ever seen before, but he is. Dragging himself in with his own bag, he sets it on the bed, practically falling on it just as Harry's bag takes it place beside him. A small 'oomph' at the sudden bounce in the bed and he stays there for a few moments even with the idea of whatever Harry's grabbed. Whatever it is, it probably made the mercenaries even more mad than they were as the two of them sped off.]

I'm fine! I can take a few punches, you know that. [He's resisting the urge to be a big baby about his wounds and so for the moment he turns on his side to look at the bag, sits up so he can sift through the contents after unzipping it. Pulling out a gold bar, he raises a brow at it (mercenaries, who would've known?) and whistles at the load, pulling back to look in the direction of the bathroom. ] Nice! This'll definitely help pay off some of those debts we have...

[Harry's, Nate's, Sully's... It's a group thing, he reminds himself. Still, he leans back at the sudden rush of blood to his head, takes in a small breath and looks down slowly. Fingers fumbling with the ends of his shirt, he pulls the fabric up, notices a dark spot forming around his ribs. Reaching out, he pokes it, then again.

... That.

Is a very tender spot, though why Nate keeps prodding at it is a mystery.] --Ahh..