He watched the anger flick across her face, and he sat a little taller on the edge of the bed that was now his for the time being. He was relatively unmoved by emotions, siphoning them off as something that clouded one's judgement at the best of times, but he knew he felt it too sometimes. It surged and boiled in him, but it was quick, brutal and often deadly. Her anger was there and then gone, and he felt his eyebrows knitting together at the idea that she was angry because he knew what pain was for and how it was used. Did she really struggle with the concept?

"You're... going to keep them from training me?" Because pain was in some regards part of his training, and it wasn't just mental either. Physical pain came with training, with improving his skills even if it was simply the bloated kick-back of a new rifle that he hadn't braced for. Pain and training often went hand and hand so the idea of it not being there was odd. "I won't let them hurt you either then," he added slowly. It seemed... fair.

He rose from his seat and turned to face the observation window straight on. He clenched his metal arm, and the roomed filled with the sound of the plates shifting and interlocking. "Do you hear me, agents? If she's experiences pain, I will return it to you."