His—his mask, of course. It would get in the way. He was injured, obviously the medics would need him out of his garments, especially with the burned streak that still stung his face.

His hands went to the proper latches under his jaw, and with a hiss, the faceplate disengaged. Ren pulled the helmet off his head and let it fall to the floor with a heavy clunk, revealing the pale, sweaty face underneath, the wound on his face not any better for the cover the mask provided the past several hours. He was obviously dazed and in a great amount of pain.

When one of the nurses approached with a pair of scissors to get his clothes off of the worst of the injuries, he shoved them away just enough to make them stumble backwards, mumbling not to touch his robes, that he'd get them off himself. After pulling himself up into a sitting position using Hux's arm, thankfully he did so without any further argument, though his shaky hands made it more difficult than normal, and soon the doctors were actually able to do what they needed to help him. The rest of him was pale as his face, aside from the bright red of his burns, and the blaster wound on his side was still bleeding.

At least he wasn't causing any trouble. He didn't really have the strength to.