He nods, and the skin on his leg seems to flicker before it vanishes entirely. The affect of skin was already a little shaky in that area - cutting out in the area of the bullet holes before reactivating in sporadic bursts - but it did a passable job of hiding the damage. Now, it's very visible - the bullet had gone through what would be the kneecap of a human, but on Connor is much more complex machinery. Then it had burst out the back of his leg with a much larger exit wound.

The leg feels exposed - more so than he feels with his pants off - and it feels odd looking at the dark hole in the front of his leg, feeling the shards of polymer and occasional bit of wiring hanging out of the back, so he's grateful for Nick talking while she sits next to it.

"Huh." He leans back in the chair, tries not to stair at Nick so intently while she examines the leg. "I'm used to people being able to talk into my mind, but I can imagine it must be difficult when you're not used to it."

He decides not to ask about the buried alive part, or the general torment. It's probably not easy to talk about. But he can't help his face twisting at the mention of it all the same.

"Could you read each other's minds, or just send and receive messages?"