Owner Pose
Martin Blackwood     Since the reopening of Manhattan, the Great Lawn of Central Park has been under surveilance. The emergence of a fully grown ash tree in the middle of the location has raised more than a little concern, especially considering the lingering impression of a defining piece of Kabbalistic iconography surrounding the tree. But after several days of scrutiniy and nothing untoward happening, there are no guards or patrols in the area.

    SHIELD is busy doing their best to explain how to frame the area as safe in a post Heavenly invasion. Optics are always key when it comes to pacifying the general populace, even in this age of metahumans and public super hero organizations. Still, despite the lack of a large audience, there is still a sense of apprehension and waiting in the air surrounding the tree in the pre-dawn minutes.

    The earliest tinge of gold touches on the eastern horizon, but grey phantom light still touches the park as Martin approaches the location where his husband is foretold to arrive. He looks less composed than he usually does. His hair more rakish in its curl, a deeper shadow of whiskers darken his cheeks and jaw, and his clothes appear more slept in with wrinkles and creases in odd unnatural areas.
Cael Becker     Cael has been sitting under the strange tree since the shortly before the stroke of midnight, her head leaning back against the trunk, and her white dog sprawled on her lap. Some of the time, she's listened to music on her phone. Some of the time, she's desperately tried to send her thoughts towards a man she's almost certain can't have heard anything she's sent his way. ...part of the time, she's dozed fitfully.
    There's deep bags under her eyes from multiple nights of near sleeplessness, and fresh tattoos across the back of her right hand - both hands have now been marked with flames. Bear responds to Martin's approach first - lifting his head and letting out a bark - wagging his tail in greeting. This gets Cael on her feet - revealing hints of both bright and dark colors dyed into the underside of her hair, that's hard to see properly in the predawn lighting. "Nothing yet," she says needlessly as she approaches the man - awkwardly looking for a moment like she might go in for a hug - and then reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder first.
    "When, uh... he comes back, I'll let you check on him first. You can judge better how he's doing. And you have the medical training..."
Lydia Dietrich     On ebony wings, Lydia flies through the early morning to Central Park, racing the sun before it rises. While the sun doesn't hurt her, per se, it does make her rather weak and groggy, and depowers her, so she needs to get to the great ash in the middle of the Great Lawn before the sun makes her plummet to the earth.

    She had been busy in her apartment preparing for Jon's arrival. Salves for wounds, water, an energy bar in case he hadn't eaten and is ravenous. Who knows what kind of ordeal Michael put him through. She also brought coffee for Cael and Martin, whom she knows will be there in case they want some. She doubts they will but it doesn't hurt to be prepared.

    She lands lightly a few yards from the two and walks up to them, raising a hand. "I brought some stuff you might need," she tells them, gesturing to the duffel bag strapped around her shoulder. "If he needs immediate medical attention, I can get us teleported up to the Asteroid. We have full medical facilities up there."

    Her glances to the horizon where the sun threatens to rise. "Once the sun comes up I'll be mostly useless, but I'll manage."
Martin Blackwood     Martin nods to Cael with a soft smile. "Yeah. I actually, slept last night. Agnes insisted it wouldn't do for me to not sleep when he was going to be here tomorrow--well, today" he replies reaching down to give Bear a soft pet on the head.

    As Lydia approaches he nods in greeting to her. The vampiress is still a relatively unknown ally of his husband but he knows that the tree and the ground around it were her doing. "This is... impressive" he says to her gesturing to the tree. At her mention of the asteroid he smiles and points up to the seemingly empty sky.

    There is something strange about the lighter grey clouds drifting along the sky, like they curve in just the slightest way that isn't natural. "I got us some swift transport of our own to the Triskelion. Jon is SHIELD after all, we take care of our people. Especially with regard to well..."

    He looks around at the disrupted trees and pocket areas of the Great Lawn that mark the recent battle on it's grounds only a few days ago. Jon was the leader of the operation that defended this land, he would probably get a promotion and medal for his work here, but he needed to survive long enough to receive it.
Cael Becker     "Well... good for Agnes," Cael replies with a small, wry smile. "It's a good thing //one// of us has a sensible head on their shoulders." Wait. Did she just imply- fuck.
    "I admittedly didn't get much sleep," she says hastily. "But I'm sure I'll catch a nap at //some// point."
    Bear licks at Martin's hand, then returns to sit beside Cael, letting out a snort at Lydia's presence - but he doesn't growl this time. Perhaps that's progress.
    "Thanks, Lydia. But- yeah, I'm pretty sure Jon'd rather go back to Triskelion. And really... I'd say whatever Martin says, goes." She rests her hand atop Bear's head as she asks curiously, "What'd you bring?"
Lydia Dietrich     Lydia looks up to where Jon's pointing and her sharp eyesight notices the optical disturbance. "Of course," she says. "Though I'm not sure a known member of the Brotherhood is welcome on what is most likely a top secret piece of spy technology." She shrugs helplessly, "I'll stay for as long as I can, though."

    She sets down the duffel bag and unzips it open, pulling out a large jar of creamy green stuff. "I've got some salves, good for open wounds, burns, and the like. They've been awakened... magically infused, we'll say... so that they're very effective." She pulls out a couple of large water bottles, and the energy bars, "I got water, and a bit of food in case he hadn't been fed, and coffee for you to help you through the day." She hands over a thermos to Cael. "I knew you wouldn't rest."
Jonathan Sims     There's a shimmer in the air, slightly to the east of the ash tree. The sun hasn't quite yet touched the horizon, and it could be mistaken for a pre-dawn haze, but it's awfully tall for that. It's about six and a half feet worth of shimmer, vertically, with a longer cross-section bisecting it near the top. A cross? A standing figure?
Martin Blackwood     Martin shakes his head. "I'll authorize it and deal with the paperwork later. You're Jon's friend and you are here to help him you can come on the spy plane." He gives a grin to Cael to let her know he didn't miss the inclusion of her into their family with her words.

    He tenses as the shimmering appears and points. "I'm... not the only one seeing that, am I?" He had missed a lot of sleep, but not enough to induce hallucinations... or at least he didn't think so.
Cael Becker     The coffee is accepted with a small but grateful smile. "Thanks, I- I'm sure I'll catch up on my sleep soon. It's been a rough weekend," she remarks, but doesn't drink from it yet as she looks back towards Martin - catching the grin from the man. //Great.//
    Any response beyon a sigh is forestalled, however, as Cael turns to look back at the tree - and studies the indistinct shape that appears. "...not the only one, no," she answers quietly. It isn't a cross, though. Is it?
    "You first, right?" she adds softly towards Martin, holding herself back from the urge to run back towards the tree.
    
Lydia Dietrich     "You're not the only one, no," Lydia echoes, taking a step back from the two. They're in a relationship with Jon. They should be there first for him. She picks up the duffel bag, though, and gets ready with the water and ointments, which are probably the ones that he'll most immediately need.
Jonathan Sims     The first rays of the sun bend above the horizon--not the sun actually rising itself, but the curvature of the Earth and the lensing of the atmosphere shining its first rays before the sun itself is visible. Those rays hit the shimmering figure and it coalesces into a form that is clearly visible for a moment: a woman, tall and dark-skinned, her black hair plaited in numerous braids, a circlet around her head holding up a single black feather. She wears a gown of white linen, and a cape of feathers in gold and blue and teal is attached to her outspread arms. She stands with her back to the sun, as though preceding it into the world.

    She bends down, and brings her arms together, near the base of the ash tree. Then she straightens, and disappears. The first light of the sun actually coming over the horizon shows a black-clad figure curled up at the base of the tree, where the woman had bent down.

    It's Jon, and he... does not look at all well. He's still wearing his SHIELD tac gear, with a reflective emergency blanket wrapped loosely around his shoulders and draped down his back. There's dirt and sand in his hair and on his face, and his clothing looks like it's become stiff from wear. His cheeks are a little sunken, and he looks far thinner than he should for only having been away for three days.

    He's also missing his right arm, entirely.

    His breathing is deep and even. Looks like he's asleep.
Martin Blackwood     Martin nods at Cael and then the figure reveals Jon at the base of the tree. All thought of hesitation leaves his head as he sees his husband. He has questions about the winged figure, but those can wait. He rushes and kneels at his husband's side.

    "Jon?" he asks, his tone worried but calm. "Oh God..." he says, noticing the state of the an. An entire arm gone? He wave Cael and Lydia in to offer assistance, cupping the man's head in his hand and lifting him slightly. He touches a comm radio at his shoulder. "This is Agent Blackwood. Archivist is acquired. Ready the stretcher for evac, four bodies." He turns his attention to Jon. "It's going to be alright, Jon. You're safe now. We're going to get you help back at HQ."
Cael Becker     As the woman with the cape of feathers is revealed, something in Cael relaxes. She knows enough to recognize Egyptian iconography, and honestly she's just glad it's not a fucking angel. She moves halfway to the tree, pausing as she lets Martin make the assessment before waving them in.
    But even then, she doesn't rush, watching Jon keenly for any sign that he's feeling crowded, of overwhelmed. "Bear, stay," she orders and as she moves closer, a breeze, and the light of the early dawn finally reveal the colors she's had dyed into her hair - mirroring the colors of the woman's cloak - gold, teal, and blue.
    "Jon?" Cael asks in a gentle, concerned voice - as she finally crouches beside him. For a moment, she looks almost afraid to touch him - unsure if a touch might ellict some pain from him. Cautiously, she sets her hand on his shoulder. "I'm here."
    Why is he so changed? What did Michael do? It was only three days...
Lydia Dietrich     Of all the people to appear before her, she wasn't expecting the goddess Ma'at, though in hindsight she probably should have considering her connection to Jon. She audibly gasps when she sees the state her friend is in. "My God, Jon.... your arm..." This is so much worse than what she expected. She has a water bottle ready for him since she doubts her ointments will be able to do anything about a severed arm.

    She rushes to be by Jon's side, but stumbles when the first rays of light hit her. The effect is dramatic and immediate. The sunlight burns away her ectoplasm, and reveals her for what she is: One of the undead. She blinks at the brightness, the light hurting her eyes and she digs around her duffelbag to pull out a pair of sunglasses.
Jonathan Sims     Jon blinks slowly, coming awake groggily. He shies away from the sun almost as much as Lydia does, putting his hand up to try to shield his eyes. "Martin? S'fine. I'm fine. Little hungry." That hand is far too thin; Lydia can probably tell just by smell that he's malnourished and dehydrated. "Sorry I've been gone so long."

    He frowns and peers at Lydia for a moment, then focuses on Cael. "Your hair," he murmurs, reaching up like he wants to touch her. "We match."

    The reason for the emergency blanket becomes clear as Martin moves him--the back of his clothing has been flayed away. Whatever was done there, it's healed over now, in long vertical scars up his back. Whip lashes, maybe, dozens of them, and long enough ago to have fully healed. The right arm of his shirt is gone, too, taken with whatever took his arm. There's dried blood on the clothing along with the sand; over a month dried.
Martin Blackwood     Martin takes a shuddering breath. "Jon... you were gone for three days. Today is the 8th of February." He frowns and asks, "How long do you think you were there?" he asks, looking over the wounds on his back and his arm.

    He hisses as he examines the man's shoulder and the wound where his arm -should- be. "Cauterized..." he says clinically for the arm. "God Jon... you're back... he..." he doesn't want to voice that he knows what the damage looks like. He doesn't like to think of Jon with those wounds.

    Overhead a jet materializes and a platform with a couple of SHIELD agents and a stretcher is lowered from the cargo bay of the jet. The platform touches down a few yards away and the SHIELD agents start to prep the stretcher for Jon's extraction. "For now... just... sip and relax" Martin says, doing his best to appear collected and calm, though Jon would be able to feel the anxiety underneath the surface, pushed down until he is certain Jon is receiving proper care.
Cael Becker     "I don't know what you're talking about, Jon," Cael counters with a small, teasing smile. "I asked them for the Golden State Warriors colors. I guess they didn't get them quite right." Leaning in, she gives him a soft kiss to his forehead, her hand shifting so it rests behind his head, as Martin inspects his condition - and she feels her stomach lurch as listens to the man's words. "You're saying... it was more than three days for Jon." More than three days of torture. How long did that monster- What sort of damage would they have to try to... heal? Michael'd had her for only hours, and it nearly shattered her...
    "We're going to get you home to the Triskelion," she says in a carefully controlled tone, struggling with her own panic and anxiety. "And I'll stay with you as much and as long as you like." After a quiet whine from nearby she adds, "Bear, too."
    As laser-focused as she is on Jon - she hasn't even noticed the transformation the sunlight has caused to Lydia.
Lydia Dietrich     Lydia's senses have dulled in the sunlight but she can still smell the old blood dried on Jon's clothes. "Here, Jon, take this," she says gently. She unscrews the cap of the water and hands the chilled water over to him. "I've got an energy bar if you're hungry."

    She scowls when she gets close enough to see the scars on his back. "What did that bastard /do/ to you?" she asks, clearly upset and angry. "You were only supposed to be gone for three days."

    She accompanies Cael and Martin onto the plane and into the Triskelion, but will remain quiet for most of it. The sun has sapped her energy and has made her weak, but she's reluctant to part from her friend.
Jonathan Sims     Jon takes the water from Lydia and sips, carefully, then says, "Three days? Three days. For you. For me..." He shakes his head. "Longer. Over a month. Probably forty days? I stopped counting, toward the end."

    He sighs, and blinks up at the sky, his eyes clearly not used to the light. "Started with forty lashes. Took my arm. For the wing, y'know? Then... statement." His brow furrows. "Saw... everything." He takes in a shuddering breath, his eyes widening a little. /Everything/. He means it literally. /Everything/.

    "Then... the world he wants. The..." He frowns, trying to find the words. "What he thinks is 'perfect.' I rejected it, so he threw me in a desert. Went east, found the river. Found Ma'at." He puts his hand to his chest. "Found ma'at."
Martin Blackwood     The SHIELD medics bring the stretcher to Jon's side and set it down, they wait though for Martin to give the go ahead. He doesn't. "Forty... God above..." he breathes out, tension settling deep in his head. He checks other vitals. Ensuring that there are no other injuries that Jon might've missed noticing due to the severity of his condition..

    The Triskelion can handle the malnourishment and dehydration of forty days in the desert. His back might be able to get tended a bit better, infection won't be an issue it seems. But his arm.

    "That's... monstrous..." he says softly. He looks at Cael, gauging her own reaction to the news, hoping she can be as secure and solid as he's trying to be for the man they both love.

    Lydia's transformation draws his attention but only briefly, vampires bother him on a level he can't quite explain but the woman seems to have come to terms with her condition, he wasn't one to judge her.
Cael Becker     Forty days. Forty days? The hand at the back of Jon's head tightens for a moment - before she forces it to relax, and Cael shoots a brief look towards Martin that's almost panicked. Forty days with Michael.
    She wants to puke.
    Unfortunately, it means she misses the rest of what Jon says - as she struggles to bring herself back under control. As the Agents approach with the stretcher, she shoots them a brief, cautious look before returning her attention to Jon, "Well... you're back now. That's- ...the most important thing. And I'm here. Like I promised."
Jonathan Sims     Jon frowns at being suddenly surrounded, pulling away from everyone for a moment, and waving his hand. "Don't... don't. Please, just... back off. Please. Stop... it's too much. You're all too much. I can't... just... just, stop. Please." Stop... what, exactly? Touching him? Martin, at least, might recognize the way he acted when he first became Archivist, overwhelmed by other people's emotions.

    He does look to Cael, though. "I heard you," he says. "When... when I was in Michael's 'perfect' world. I heard you, I saw you. Both of you. Praying for me." He frowns. "Have... have you been here the whole time? Did you /sleep/? Gods, tell me you /slept/."
Martin Blackwood     Martin reacts almost immediately, backing away from Jon though every instinct tells him to hover and protect. He resists the urge and leans away. "Go ahead. Take your time." He looks at the SHIELD medics and tells them to back off as well.

    He tries to give Cael a reassuring glance to let her know that he just needs time. But he's not sure he manages. "I slept some last night, on your daughter's orders naturally" he says. "She can quite... imposing when she puts her mind to it."

    He smiles softly, happy to be focusing on family and not the damage done to his husband. "She will be happy to know you're back home and safe. I'll... I'll see if I can bring her by the medical ward after you get settled."
Cael Becker     As Jon starts to pull away, there's a part of her that wants to wrap him in her arms - but even without Martin backing away, she knows that's a bad idea. She lets her hand slip from the back of Jon's head, and she takes a step back, taking a deep breath in, and blowing it out slowly as she tries to regain control of her own emotions - and then Jon speaks about her 'prayers.'
    "You heard me?" she asks softly, sounding - quite frankly - //shocked// by this revelation. "I never honestly believed that you'd- that it'd work. I, uhh... I couldn't be with you, so I wanted to be near you. I kept coming back to the tree to- to try to talk to you," she admits. "But of course I didn't stay there the whole time. ...I left to get my hair done," she jokes, flashing Jon a brief smile, and running her fingers through her hair to reveal a better look at the blue, teal, and golden-yellow dye job.
    "I did try to sleep, though. I got some sleep."
Jonathan Sims     "Good," Jon says to them both. "Good. Don't... don't make me worry about you. Please. I can't..."

    He moves around to sit up, against the trunk of the tree, takes another slow sip of water. "I was gone for forty days," he says. "I was /alone/ for thirty-eight. I had a lot of time to think." He clears his throat, rusty from disuse. "Don't change the subject. Don't avoid this." He's focused mostly on Martin, but he's speaking to all of those surrounding him. "I practically had to tear my heart out to come back to you; if you're going to try to pussy-foot around what happened, or focus more on what it's making /you/ feel, how awful it is for /you/, I'm not coming back with you. I'll find somewhere else to go until it's time to go to Duat." The words are blunt, but not unkind or accusatory. More just a statement of fact.

    Then he sighs, and his expression softens. "If you need to take a moment... go do that. I'm not bleeding out."
Martin Blackwood     Martin closes his eyes as Jon calls him out. "No. No. You're right. I'm... sorry" he says. "It's just... he took your arm, Jon" he says, the tremble in his voice seeping through. "I just... I didn't expect..." he shakes his head. "I didn't expect you to lose an arm to him."

    He swallows and lets out a breath. "What did he show you?" he asks. "You said you took his statement?" he asks, sounding worried. He can't fathom what a statement from Michael the Archangel would be like. The entirety of time condenced into a single tale. How did Jon manage to survive that much knowledge being forced into him?
Cael Becker     Is Jon really calling out Martin? Or does he mean her, too? "Of course this makes us feel like shit, Jon. But we both want to be there for you." The thought that Jon might not //allow// her to be there with him after all of this causes a rising panic that she fights to quell, as her hands clasp tightly together.
    At Martin's words about Jon's arm - a change she's yet to even acknowledge - bitterness leaks into her voice. "He wanted to take my hands and feet. It doesn't surprise me that the fucking bastard took Jon's arm." She looks away from Jon, towards Bear who's now whining in response to Cael's roiling remotions, but other than crawling a few inches towards her, as if seeking her permission to come to her, he remains lying on his stomach on the ground, a short distance away.
    "It's going to take me a little while befoe I'm really in... control. But I'm glad you're back, and I want to be with you. So I'll sort it out, somehow..."
Jonathan Sims     Jon curls in on himself and shakes his head. "Please... please... don't..." He closes his eyes, trying to shut out the anger and pain. "Shit," he whispers. "I can't... I can't block it out. It's... it's... the panic, the anger, it's... resonating. Please, st-stop... stop..."

    He suddenly shouts, "I don't need you to be /angry/ on my behalf!"

    His eyes open and he glares at them both. "/I'm/ angry on my behalf! I'm going to track down that bloody mewling /infant/ and teach him a lesson, as soon as I'm able! I don't need... panic, or... or pain, or worry, or anger, from people! I need /comfort/! Please! I've been /alone/ for a /month/ and I get back and everyone's just... just... spiky and angry and hard and hurting and..."

    He wraps his arm over his head, like he's trying to hide, and starts to cry. "I j-just... everything's been hard and c-cold and I just... /hurt/."
Martin Blackwood     Martin frowns agains and reaches out to place a hand on Jon's leg. "I'm sorry, Jon" he says, his tone soft and comforting. "You're right. This isn't about revenge on... on Michael. This is about you surviving what he did to you."

    He moves in again, slowly and wraps his arms around his husband in a hug. "What can we do to help you?" he asks, his attention turning to the task he is best suited for, giving comfort to those who hurt.
Cael Becker     Cael takes a step away from Jon. And then another. As much as she wants to go to him, to hug him, and comfort him... she can't bring her roiling panic, and anger, and frustration under control. She wants to scream that she has every right to feel angry and worried.
    But she doesn't have a right to hurt Jon after all he's been through.
    Crouching beside Bear, she wraps her arms tightly around the pup, as Bear whines, and licks at her, and tries to comfort her. "I'm sorry, Jon. I'm sorry. I- I need a few minutes, and that isn't fair to you, but I can't just-" Emotions don't turn off like a switch.
    "I can sent you Bear, if it helps. He won't- he's a dog. He won't be angry."
    But for the moment, she scratches at Bear's fur, and focuses on her breathing, as she tries to scrable out from under the weight of all she was feeling. For Jon's sake.
Jonathan Sims     Jon's hand tightens in his hair, and he shakes his head. "No. No. I don't... I don't want the /dog/, Cael. I... I /tore my heart out/ coming back to you." He shudders. "Lyra was alive. Alis was alive. Your mothers, both of them... alive and happy and healthy. Everyone... everyone was... a-and... and... I looked her right in the eyes, my little girl, I told her she was /dead/. I walked away while they... they /begged/ me not to go... and you want to... to send me the fucking /dog/?"

    He squeezes his eyes shut, aware of the eyes of the SHIELD agents...

    Oh.

    "Get me out of here," he whispers. "Get me out of the... the sight of... get me away from these /strangers/. Please. J-just... I need to... to..." He shakes his head. He can't think clearly. Why are there so many /people/?

    "Take me /home/. Both of you. Please."
Martin Blackwood     Martin looks at Cael, uncertain why she was pulling away. "Will you stop it?" he asks, sounding more than a bit miffed. He doesn't seem to mind the fact that there are SHIELD agents in the vicitny this is bigger than any multi-governmental organization.

    "Just come over here and -give him a hug-" he says to the woman. He turns his attention back to Jon. "You're sure? You want to go... home? Not the med ward?" he asks, sounding only mildly against the idea.

    It wasn't like they couldn't treat his malnutrition and dehydration at home just as well, and Martin has the medical training to handle those things with ease. Supplies could be delivered to their suite.
Cael Becker     "I don't want to send you the fucking dog!" Cael counters, while still holding tightly to Bear, tears streaking her cheeks as she tries, and fails, to get her emotions under control. "I want to hug you."
    Which is - thankfully, exactly what Martin orders. She lifts her head, looking at him uncertainly with tear-stained cheeks before the follows the suggestion, closing the distance between herself and Jon - and giving Bear another quick command to 'stay.'
    She's cautious at first as she wraps her arms around Jon, tears still falling as she adds, "I've missed you. I've missed you so much. I don't mean to hurt you. I'll- I'll figure it out and get my emotions under control again, I swear. I love you, I want to help you. I'll figure it out."
Jonathan Sims     Jon wraps his arm around Cael in return. "I've missed you too. I've missed all of you. I've been traveling by night, and alone, and it's been dark and cold and..."

    He buries his face in Cael's hair and reaches out to grasp at Martin's jacket, trying to pull them both close. "S-sorry. Sorry. Didn't m-mean to... to... I'm, ahh, a little... something... something's happening to me, and I'm n-not... it's all a little..."

    He shakes his head. "Take me home," he repeats. "Lydia too. Just... just..."

    He chokes on a sob. "Gods, I need a cigarette." He laughs. "And a st-statement. You'd think... seeing the /birth of the universe/ would be enough..." He's shaking. They /really/ probably ought to get him onto the jet.
Martin Blackwood     Martin allows himself to be pulled into the hug with a smile. There are a few tears running down his cheeks as well. "We can get you one when we get back home. Can we get you on the stretcher?" he asks.

    "I'll understand if you'd rather not, but it is the safest bet for someone in your condition." He pats the stretcher. "If you'd rather it be me and Cael who get you up there, I can instruct her on what she needs to do." He gives them both a happy smile, a lot of the tension of the situation put to rest for now.
Cael Becker     "Ay, oruguita," Cael murmurs quietly, as she keeps her face buried against Jon for a few moments longer. Being back in Jon's arms- ...arm has a strongly calming affect on her agitated emotional state. She keeps both of her arms around him, though she does shift to allow Martin more space as he's pulled in as well.
    She finally pulls away, to gently smooth back Jon's hair with tears unabashedly still streaking down her cheeks. "We'll get you home," she promises softly. "Get you cleaned up, and fed. Get you a cigarette. I'm sure we can come up with some sort of statement to give you - we'll take care of it." After tucking Jon's hair in behind his ears, she's ready to help him move - either to the quinjet, or onto the stretcher. "You just tell us what you need, and we'll do it. We're here for you. Yeah?"