The concern pisses him off. He's not North's concern anymore. North doesn't get to fucking care what happened to him. Not now. He lost that right a long time ago.

"There's about an even chance I'm going to bleed out and die of my injuries," he says, as flippantly as he can. He's not exactly convinced about the medical skills of, well, their medic. None of the Reds and Blues are what he'd call competent. "Or maybe they'll just execute me instead of sending me back to jail."

His lips tighten, a hard expression when Alpha is mentioned. "Alpha's dead. All of them are gone. Except Epsilon." And even then, there was a tiny chance of recovering him. Fuck...