They've known each other too long now. Even if she had the energy, if every muscle in her body didn't ache, she'd know he wouldn't rest until she was back in fighting shape.

She lends him her arm so he can work on the scrapes there, splotchy and swollen from her underwater tumble.

"If he tries to tell you the river thing was my fault, just know he's full of shit," she mutters, glancing over him again. They're past the worst of it, but the stress still weighs heavy on his shoulders. Furrowed into his brow, set at his jaw. Not that that expression is all that foreign on his features.

"Dinner when you're done? I'm starving."