Quiet as it is, it still startles the absolute shit out of him. The quiet whisper of your own name in an empty room when you're starting to have a mini freak-out about your mental state will make even the best of men jump. It's only been ten fucking minutes, though, and there's no way he's going out of his mind so quick. Eyes flicker toward the source, the vent on the wall, and he moves to drop down beside it.

There's a little grunt that follows the action. Hardass though he may be, getting dropped on your back will leave anyone a bit sore. A beat later, though, and his back's against the wall next to the vent so he can murmur in turn.

"Steve." Obviously, he saw the face in the cell next door and it's not god damn santa clause. "You okay?"