"Well, I care about you, and my other methods of caring about people are leaving them alone for their own good, or bribery."

So, worry it is. Mirrors in their own ways. Louis' wounds from Armand are significantly worse than Daniel's, so much that Daniel can't conceptualize them, not really, not the depth. And yet he's still got these fucked up entry wounds in his soul from the guy, so here he is, circling the drain infinitely about what the fuck do I do about it.

Then he pulls a face, about the idea of telling Lestat. Absolutely not, apparently.

"Sometimes." He knows that word isn't helpful, but it's all he's got. "As much as dreams can, where it just could be, and other times I forget it's a dream at all, until I wake up. I mostly see you. We're both fucked up and I'm trying to make you laugh. I think I'm going to die, I think you're probably going to die. You've told me to hang on but there are moments when I'm not being actively hypnotized and it's, you know."

He's in a shitty apartment with a dying monster and a very alive one who wants to kill him.

"I think Armand left to get me a sandwich, at one point. I was probably going to die from lack of nutrients after the blood loss after a few days. So I was locked in the room with you. Does that sound real?"