He wants to fire back well I didn't expect it, either, but doesn't really have much of the stomach himself to be sure he won't just hurl on accident. Instead he lets Duo talk, his own head drooping into the crook of his elbow while he tries to recover from the seriously nasty bit of heebie-jeebies that process came with...dreading the next. Jeez, there's a next, isn't there? He was wonderfully sedated the last time he was shot; this is his first time experiencing this kind of recovery.

Those dreadful thoughts do kind of push out Duo's question a ways before he suddenly remembers it a minute later; he lifts his head up enough to peer over his arm.

"Umh," he starts, but he realizes he's just...talking into his arm. He starts to sit up, stopping part-way when he feels an uncomfortable twinging in his back. Oh, boy. He exhales. "I can probably...get up and move soon. It's not like my legs were hurt, just--" His face screws up. "...There's another one. Moving."

There, there's your warning.