His eyes narrow incrementally, but the only strain to the words is what carries over from the effort it currently requires to keep both him and Asadi upright while neither of them are in optimal condition. Greta departs before he can summon any sort of rejoinder, and by the time he has partially carried, partially dragged Asadi to the waiting cab, the nerves in his shoulder have compacted into a blistering, shearing point of agony that is having a truly detrimental effect on his internal structure if the hollow flaring behind the adjacent shoulder blade is any indication.

"We are helpful to her only as long as we stay calm," he says, injecting the final word the barest fraction of impatience. "She will be fine. Act like it."

The driver is staring at them.

The driver is staring at them and gaping, and Rush is trying to maneuver Asadi into the cab with a minimum of muscular coordination on his part or hers, and is also currently trying not to have a headache.

"Unhelpful," he snaps at him. "We require your services. I suggest you employ them."