[Carlisle doesn't look at Lance long enough to realize the doctor is no longer staring a hole into him; his eyes remain firm on the ground, as though it might help him escape the scrutiny.]

Sorry, I- at least I suppose you now know wh- what it is you're trying to resist.

[He bites his lip from the inside, swallowing down another spot of ink as it tries to well in his throat.]

Not- not that I didn't think you could hurt me, of course. I was- I was expecting it, but as- as I have mentioned before, I am a healer, and- and I suppose I let that thought get the better of me in my eagerness to, um. Hm.

[Good talk.]