[ At the time, it served a purpose. One that he'd agreed to easier than he should have, in retrospect. As usual. He scoffs at that thought and grips the cup tight in his hand. ]

It did something. Killed it again, I guess.

[ He feels like he's going to be sick again, and he's quiet until it passes. Which is ridiculous. He's halfway to thinking this is all in his head the more he talks about it. Telling Eleven about his paranoid suspicions certainly won't help anything; it's bad enough that he caught him when he was vulnerable. ]

Doesn't matter now, anyway. If I saw this coming I wouldn't have bothered.