Faolan shakes his head slightly, although he realizes belatedly that Lancelot probably has no idea what he's responding to. He had said a lot of things just then, it's a lot to process in his current state.

"No requests," he says. He glances to the hallway before back at Lancelot. He still doesn't know why he's keeping him here. He feels like there are a lot of things that should be concerning him now, questions he wants to have answered, but he can't really wrap his mind around it. The only real question he can get behind is why does Lancelot still want him here, after--

"I should..." Use the toilet at the very least. Get changed he supposes. He runs a hand over his face and pushes himself to stand. "You don't have to take care of me. Like that, I mean. I don't." Deserve it. Don't know how to handle it right now. "It's your birthday," he finishes, lamely.