The man doesn't move when he's touched, only closing his eyes for a second and finally getting his breathing even. After a moment, he nods in reply, and uses his working hand to start pushing himself to his feet.

"Yours," he says quietly. He doesn't have the energy to do the proper surveillance and then climb into his own should the captain be in his own apartment next door, and he can't risk seeing him in this state. Diarmuid lives in a different building, so the choice is clear.