Now that he's conscious, Vincent blocks off at least part of himself by plunking his hand down on the mattress. Phalanx would have to somehow get through the man's tree-trunk of an arm to sidle up to his side. His legs, though, those are forfeit. You gotta win some to lose some.

"...Huh," Robin says, also sitting up, ruffling his hair back into place. He also straightens out his shirt, which had become disheveled with the events of the night. "I must have had a bad dream."

"What do you mean, you must have?" Indignant, Vincent asks, "The fuck are you saying? The fuck are any of you saying?"

"Mm," Robin ignores him, "Hey, where did Phalanx go?"

He leans over to look around the giant man in front of him, smiling a little when he spots that familiar white hair, "Ah, good morning."