"Naww, I'm sorry," Hardison mumbled. He still couldn't make himself look at Eliot, not when he was still so open and wounded-feeling. "I shouldn't--it's been years. Shouldn't still be havin' these dreams. Shouldn't still be affectin' me like this. Usually they don't--usually they ain't so bad anymore. But I guess all that..." He gave an awkward shrug, not wanting to jostle Parker any. It wasn't often she was willing to stay in one position the way she was when he had a coffin nightmare. "That stuff from yesterday--sorry. I know it's dumb. Gimme a minute an' I'll be cool, man."

He was used to Eliot thinking of him as physically weak, or all but useless in a fight.This was different. He didn't want Eliot thinking he was weak this way, too. Didn't want him walking away.