The noise Bahorel makes is almost something like a laugh. "Wish for the others. I'd have been useless." He's grinning now, but his voice is serious.

"No--I envy you, and it had to be done, and it's a wonder the chance came, and I'd have given everything to go--and it would have killed me. I'd have come back to my body and dropped like a stone. I've barely been breathing here as it is; if I'd had a chance for real air I'd have gone under for good as soon as I was back here." He looks at Enjolras with a touch of real concern. "I don't know how you're up and walking."

There's no stumbling or stammering as he says any of this; it's just the truth. And it's absurd, in its way, and he knows it. His smile is real, even if he's still a blink away from crying again.