Mostly protected by his arms, Winter can hear at least relatively well still, and he flinches from all the shouting, eyes still squeezed shut and mind still halfway sure he's about to be zapped by something-- cattle prod, Chair, something.

It takes the wall behind him coming to pieces and wood bits raining down on his protective arms before he shakes himself out enough to actually move. He nudges Kate ahead of him, still looking ashen and unhappy, but at least... mostly present. Go, Kate. He's right behind you.