"It does, right? I'm already damaged," he says, gesturing to his cast, and he has a smile on his face but it doesn't reach his eyes. It's not the leg he's sparing worry about, he knows it'll heal, it's not as big of a deal to him as he might have made it if not for his new friend, the nightmares. He wonders if Owen would do him a solid and check him out more thoroughly, maybe even do a full scan, just in case. Newt's never really cowered from the possibility of anything but the thought that what's in his head could do real damage--which he knows it can, he's seen it happen, he's read the research files--freaks him out more than he cares to admit.

But even if he's freaked out, that doesn't mean Kate has to be, too. So he widens his smile and offers another laugh. "A twelve is like, bare minimum, I'm at least a fourteen. Good to know you're satisfied, though, I'd hate to think I wasn't living up to my full potential."