Sam doesn't notice the hand. He's easily distracted at the best of times, monofocused during the majority of them, and there's far too much going on in his head (right now a cavernous, echoing place, thoughts scattered and bouncing off each other and into walls of blankness).

"You were in the hospital." Deep breath, quiet exhale, lips bit together in a habitual motion. He barely notices his own actions. "Right. Just like everyone else, apparently. And why, by the way, should I not express how blatantly ridiculous these guidelines are?"