"Just checking." He's kind of amused now though, even if this is a horrendous idea that can only end in tears. Bruce may have quietly transferred some intense wound care supplies from the clinic to their house in preparation for the injuries that he's sure will follow. He agreed to comply to this though, which means he's going to help. He just needs to make sure the thing doesn't try to kill him because then it won't be the tiger who's destroying the living room.

"No," he says with a sigh, his hands clenching the counter again briefly before relaxing, and he offers him a tentative smile. "I told you, I never remember much. Just flashes of noise and light, but I don't even have much of that this time, which I'm guessing means there weren't any explosions. So, that's good." He could laugh, but he doesn't, and he bites his lip instead.

"Did you two have a good... talk?"