Skywalker looks quite-- young, with that expression on his face, Jason thinks, and then shelves the thought as being irrelevant; he is not the sort of person to murmur things like I'm sure he'll turn up.

Harry is squirming, again; Jason sighs and turns him right-side-up and facing Anakin rather than the petty punishment of keeping him faced the other direction. Harry offers his usual oversized grin.

"Yeah, yeah, the little room and the blah-blah-blah, we got that too!"

"Yes, thank you Harry," Jason says absently. The "com link" as Anakin calls it has been tucked away in his pocket-- it looks like the mobiles he remembers from when they were rather new-- but that's not something he's thinking terribly much about, Anakin's words having triggered a thoughtful peering at the Jedi's somewhat swollen temple.

Jason raises a hand curiously, remembers that at least one of the two of them has personal boundaries halfway through the motion, and instead touches at his own temple, exploratively-- ah, yes, ouch.

(It is somewhat telling as to the frequencies of migraines in Jason's life that he hadn't properly registered his own matching head pain until Anakin brought up the concept.)

"Hm," says Jason, through a tight grimace as he probes at the tender spot with his fingertips. "I believe I was in bed. One doesn't need to go bludgeoning people who are already unconscious--"

"--feel yours, there is something there," Jason says, his voice sharpening somewhat as he registers the presence of something foreign, beneath his skin.

(Aside from Etrigan.)