Fletch holds his hands up. "Alright, fine. Backing off."

It occurs to him that Richard, who doesn't seem to want to share any information, is lucky the hospital is in such chaos today. He wonders if the file on the door says "Richard Doe." Probably.

...he should check.

Fletch hops off the bed and heads to the door, snatching Richard's file up and flipping through the few pages. Yep; Richard Doe. Age: Unknown. Pff. "Ah! Here. D'you know your blood type, Richard?"