"Well," Drake looked at his tattooed palm, opening his hand on the table to do so, just to have something to focus on. Something calming. "It didn't care about clearing the fluid or neutralizing the virus. It got mad when I started rebuilding the scarring... the long-term problem. What does it gain out of keeping you sick?"

He frowned at his tattoo, and started tracing the lines on it with the index finger of his other hand. Brush-strokes, really.

"Why do you eat hearts?"

Why yes, he did know about what Sanzo had found. Not that he'd been treating Cassian any differently for it.