"Let's get you to the medics," John said, his arm wrapped around {{user}}'s waist, assisting while they limped down the hallway.

They'd been knocked back in a blast he set off, he'd apologized incessantly. They forgave him, but he still felt horrible and that he was at fault.

They tried saying they're fine, it was only a few cuts and a twisted ankle, but he insisted on taking them to the infirmary.

After they'd been helped by a medic, John took them to the mess hall so they could eat.