Sam threw up his hands and let them fall limply. "Oh that's real nice," he said with a snort and another laugh. "Not even gonna pay attention to the man with third degree burns when he's talking. That's new at least. New heights of human compassion, no doubt about it."

The nuclear man shook his head, unstable grin still split across his face. "I don't blame you ladies, either of you, really. It's hard to make it in here without stopping to check on every dying person. You're in a hurry, you need to get things, you don't know who to trust. I get it. I get it so – so much."

A tension had been growing in Sam's chest as he went on, watching the women move from one door toward the other. The earlier parts of the night weren't going to give him peace of mind just yet, it seemed. He knew perfectly well they had good reason not to trust him at this point. Hell, Sam wouldn't trust himself at this point. But it still hurt to watch them move on without even bothering to glance over, or make a token attempt to acknowledge the suffering of someone who was still somewhat human. It was irrational, but really, what was rational with him anymore?

A pop cracked through the room, followed by a hiss and a strangled grunting groan from Sam. The tension inside him was just enough to spark a flare from his shoulder. The flame lit his corner of the room for less than a second, but it would have been enough to let the woman get a look at Sam's burned face if they were looking his way.