Ethan started to speak, but sputtered as it developed immediately into a cough, ragged and coarse. The wind had been taken from him, so to speak, and it took him a few seconds to find it again. "Yeah... yeah i'm fine." With her help, he pushed off the floor and sat himself upright, leaning against the counter with his head resting against the cold steel. His entire body burned, but that was normal after a fight. It wasn't the damage he had sustained, but the adrenaline as it drained from his body, slowing his heart beat and his circulation. The fire in his blood that he felt with every fight was leaving him. Even his fingertips tingled. Yes, the unfeeling metal that had replaced his soft flesh. No matter how many times he did the exercises and the mental conditioning, his brain still remembered what it was like to have real fingers, and occasionally it looked for them, having realized that they were no longer attached.<br/><br/>"Heh... you don't happen to have a pack of smokes too, would you?" He, of course, knew that Charlotte did not have them. She didn't seem like the kind of person that would feed a habit like smoking. But what did he have to lose at that point? Nothing. No one needed him. No one wanted him. No one liked him. Even Charlotte, in all her generosity, was probably there just to soothe her conscience after t-boning him with their Cadillac. Maybe she felt that, by helping him, it would some how get her out of the fast lane straight to Hell when she finally croaked. He took the pills she handed him, holding them in the palm of his hand before popping them in his mouth with a water to chase them. He swallowed hard, wincing and grunting as he just managed to get them down before he coughed again. "This the good stuff that you rich people get to enjoy?" It was widely accepted by the poorer citizens that their medications were often the expired versions of their more wealthy counterparts. They still functioned as intended, but at a reduced efficiency.<br/><br/>When Charlotte asked how he had come to be like that, Ethan sighed deeply. His television was still on in the background. The news was on again, but he barely paid any attention to it. "Just a misunderstanding between myself and the landlord. He's under the impression that I owe him money. Which isn't inaccurate, of course, but he's also under the impression that i'm made out of money. Like I can afford his upper class rates on my lack of salary." Ethan shrugged his shoulders while he kept his eyes locked on her. He wasn't suspicious really, but he was confused as to why she kept coming back. He wasn't kind to her at all, yet she continued to show up.<br/><br/>From the news, a last name caught his attention. Charlotte's family name, to be exact. They were often in the news so he didn't really pay much attention, though it did pique his curiosity slightly. "I'm surprised they didn't hassle you coming up. Doesn't everyone know who you are?"