[ He's so damn stunned by the scene himself that he can't even speak when the operator first picks up, and then he never gets the chance once the communicators yanked free and he's suddenly being jerked around like the bitchass punk currently sprawled on the ground.

Hank's reaction to that is lightning quick, though, muscle memory and years of experiencing forcing his hand up to grab the other man's collar with just as much ferocity, though he instead shoves to keep him at a distance. His legs are weak, but not his arms. If anything, his arms have gotten stronger from his therapy.

The fucking chair's breaks are off, though, so it's just another move that falls short of impressive. It only riles up his defensive tone even more, but remembering his former job and his current one, Hank forces his immediate shout down to a growl. ]

My name's Hank Schrader. That kid needs a fuckin' ambulance, if you couldn't tell. I work with the police, and I perceived a threat. [ Wrongly, he knows now. ] Got nothin' else to say. [ without a goddamn lawyer, anyway. ] So either give that back and get your damn hands off me, or call them yourself. He needs to get to the hospital!