[ looks like they both suffer in that respect when honesty is involved.

Although her question makes him consider that. He'd been so focused, so concerned about the physical, that he hadn't realized her own ability to deal with the panicked crowds was likely diminished. She's always so capable (and that's another reason he doesn't like all of this). He pushes his own shields around her a little more securely - they're built out of focus and standard sentinel stubbornness, so hopefully they'll help through whatever's happening until she can take over herself. Asking her directly in return seems a little too much right now, so he'll just keep working, tugging the shirt back down when she says she's fine, glancing at her for a moment to work out how best to do this flying thing, because with no hospitals and the streets like this, there isn't much of an option. ] They're pretty collectively losing their shit; I'll be glad to get some distance anyway. [ probably too oblique, but whatever. ] Since you can't lift your arms, I'm just going to carry you, and you're not allowed to get mad at me, even later.