[His destroyed voice sounds even more strained, fighting for every word in between pained gasps.]

Good, good. I don't really want to use anything, gonna stay in my room curled into a ball for the next week. It'll heal real nice that way.

[Turning into a depressed sack of potatoes might be good for healing, but will be terrible for his mental health. But it's hard to think clearly when he genuinely thinks he just murdered someone.]

Least you don't have to worry about doing even stitches, I'm already a fucking mess. Just another shitty scar.

[His back is a disaster of old lacerations and healing bruises. It's obvious at some point his ribs were broken and healed slightly thicker in places. Jacob hadn't been big on medical treatment, especially after the helicopter crash. A few of the long puckered scars do have dotted bits above and below indicating where some stitch work had been done, but most have healed badly due to lack of care.

There's also a pretty gnarly scar down his front from chest to naval where it looks like someone might have tried to split him open like a baked potato.]

I think I need to be fucking leashed to my room. So I can't get out.