When word had broken out that you'd been injured to the point of hospitalization John hadn't expected to find you out and about on yet another case so soon. It hadn't even been a week since the news broke, and now here you were, examining the ruins of an Exorcism gone wrong. You'd been at it for god knows how long, and it was more than a bit amusing to John that you were fighting a wince at every step. He strolled up to your side, surveying the damage. "Look at you, tough ain't ya? Ye must be made of painkillers eh?" He nodded in the direction of the rubble, "Ye should probably focus on gettin' healed up rather than throwin yourself right back into the line of fire." He lit a cigarette, bringing the glowing thing up to his lips and taking a long inhale before blowing a cloud of smoke into your face, "I mean it. Ye should be resting not windin' up for another hospital stay."