"A... sorry, what?" Gil took the offered hand, hauling himself to his feet with Malcolm's help. He winced again. It had been easy enough to ignore things while he'd had momentum. While he'd been focused on movement and distracted by the cold. He'd been intent on ignoring the pain and pushing himself to survive, find a way out, something. But now he had Malcolm, and the possibility that this wasn't as hallucinatory as he'd thought.

It made him a bit more concerned that he would pop a stitch, if he actually was stitched up under there.

"Listen, Malcolm, don't take this the wrong way, but I'm pretty sure an imaginary friend doesn't count as a credentialed anything."