His shoulders slump with some visible relief to hear Deacon sounding perfectly unharmed and unruffled, but it's short-lived, because he definitely doesn't think he's imagining the way Deacon's voice seems to be coming from empty space. There's simply nowhere he can possibly be. And of all the bizarre transformations Danse has seen so far, this kind of thing has not been one of them.

"Why do you keep asking me that?" It makes slightly more sense now than it did before, when his nerves are still jangling from the distress of thinking some kind of silent sea monster might have dragged Deacon under the water to come for him next, but it still just strikes him as an odd question that he's missing some kind of context for, and he doesn't know what.

"I'm fine. I'll be more fine when our visual acuity is back up to standard, but I'll live. That's not the issue here. You're--"

Deacon's inability to specify why he's concerned about Danse is making a little more sense now, because Danse doesn't know how to explain this without sounding ridiculous either.

"You're not there. I can see straight through to the wall, all around. And for once, I don't think you're just screwing with me."

Though to be fair, he's not ruling that out, either.