Dimitraeus nearly breathed a sigh of relief, but instead waited until Kane was off of him before he moved to his feet. He ripped the chest plate out, coughing more blood, though he was healing relatively quickly. "Fine," he said, wiping his mouth off. It hurt to breathe, but Kane looked worse off. He held out his hand. "Take me back to my quarters then." His tone was bitter, and he was not happy with the situation, but it wasn't really Kane's fault. He had fucking warned him.<br/><br/>At the other warning, he grimaced and refused to look at him. "No, I won't run." When Kane brought them back to his quarters, he pulled off his shirt, leaving just pants behind, but his glamour remained in place. He didn't want to appear vulnerable. He wouldn't ever again. Not like he had before when they were fucking. "I'm going to inject myself with what I injected you with so you can see the cure." He knew Kane wouldn't trust him otherwise. So he took off the belt and grabbed the second syringe, injecting it into his shoulder.<br/><br/>His body trembled with the pain, causing a sheen of sweat on his brow before he reached for a vial on his shelf. All the damage had been undone again. If a cleaner didn't do it, Hidalgo would. He downed the vial's content, and gradually the intense pain was gone. It didn't feel like his nerve endings were on fire anymore. He took another vial that was identical to it and held it out to him. "No side effects. It's a direct counter to what I gave you," he said, hand shaking but only because he knew if he fucked up he would be a dead demon.