Robin knows that the experience of pain is different for Phalanx than it is for a normal person, but until now, he had mostly attributed it to their distance their physical body, or the fact that they are technically lots and lots of people all smashed into one form, who couldn't possibly all be cohesively aware of what they're feeling at the same time.

But now, as he reaches instinctively out for the sense of their blood, he realizes that they are physically not as they should be. Not entirely. He feels the pulse of blood in them, sure, but it feels hollow. He looks for fresh blood, searches for the basic fundamental essence of a living person, and it just... isn't right.

He frowns a little as he tries to puzzle this out, suddenly absorbed in their arm as he blindly stitches up the little holes. Then he moves back to their injured hand to do the same, this time watching very carefully to see how the sluggish blood reacts to his magic tugging on it.

"Seriously though," says Vincent naively from the kitchen, "Did you say there was food?"