Well it's hard to keep track, when one minute his fists are wrapped around something suffocating and immense, and the next they're gripping cold steel. He stares at Cameron, still sputtering from the acrid taste of the thing that had been using multiple methods to strangle him and words already formed - "What the hell--" before he looks down and finds the sentiment silently repeated.

Eyes wide, he drops the gun and sends it spinning across the floor away from him. It seems to take hours before the last rotation stills and leaves the barrel pointing lamely into the corner, and by the time he looks up from it his expression has faded from shock into something almost hurt.

"You... have nightmares about me?"