That startles him, cutting even through the pain and shock that still wracks his body, and he pulls back enough to search Hunter's face for the truth. "What?"

Only hours? The fuck? How is that possible?

There's the barest hint of the Captain briefly clawing his way to the surface, trying to assert himself in the shreds of what remains of his psyche, still shaken and battered and broken. "We were... it can't just be hours. We were starving." That couldn't happen in hours, could it? No, he's been there. That wasn't even the nagging hunger of a few skipped meals, it was the roaring, gnawing emptiness of going weeks without, driving him towards the most difficult decision he's ever made in his entire life.