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"No," he answered Rylan almost too quickly, lamenting the loss of him against Thorne but taking the moment to wrap his arms tight around the tattooed man and kiss his jaw in reassurance. For who? Him or you? "No, not -- not right now. Tomorrow, maybe, but right now, we worry about Thorne. And you. Us, if you want, but, I just -- want to feel safe with the two of you for a minute."

Liar, he told himself. Lucas ignored it, letting Thorne go and taking his good hand to lead him back inside. Once safely in, he let his Captain go and turned on the lights, squinting around to note the glass. He can handle that. Much easier than he could handle himself.

"I'll get the broom, you guys -- go around it. I'll slide my prosthetic foot so I wont get cut but you guys don't have the luxury of missing a limb, so, be careful." Lucas smiled, trying to be all jokes and dumb comments as he usually was, but he felt so very far from that. He was hurting. Hurting that Thorne couldn't trust them to be near them. Hurting that Rylan had talked to Autumn, but not them. How could he open up and know it was the right thing to do when there was still so much uncertainty?

Swallowing back his thoughts, he waved the two off to clean Thorne up, carefully shuffling around the glass and getting the broom (I know where the broom is but I had to hear from Autumn why you ran from us--).

Lucas bit back a wince. It was that angry voice in him, that nasty part that needed to piss boundaries and hold them that whispered in his ear. He ignored it the best he could, getting down on all fours and then down to his chest on the floor to look under the couch before he started working on the glass. "Hey, there's my precious Empress of the world," he cooed softly at Millie. "It's okay sweetling. Your dad is home. He'll be okay. Come on now darling, it's okay..."

Was it, though?

Thorne allowed Rylan to pull him to the bathroom, and rattled off a list of locations for things that the man might need. Tweezers in the left drawer beneath the sink, alcohol above. A needle? Thorne had to think, but he added for the firefighter to check the lower drawer too. Maybe there was a spare there just in case. He'd had a first aid kit at one point, but he didn't know where it had went, or if he'd used it all up.

Setting himself down on the edge of the bathtub and kicking the door to the bathroom shut, Thorne glanced up at Rylan, watching the other for a long moment. He wondered what the other was going through. Wondered - what all of them weren't telling each other.

"Rylan," he said, and struggled to continue. "I don't know what you're not telling me. I don't know what Lucas isn't telling me. But something's wrong in this place, and I don't think... I don't think it's going to get better." He paused, closing his eyes and letting his head tilt back. "Everyone wants to understand, but that starts by us talking."

He sighed out, leaning against the wall. "I don't care how crazy it sounds. I don't need you two to spill your guts to me. But this - " he gestured, "this entire s**t-show we've landed in, this Otherworld business... it's a war. I don't want to be at the starting line before you guys tell me you're on the other side."

He paused and cracked a smile at Rylan. "Anyways... your first time doing this, mister fireman? I guess DIY glass removal can come before DIY bungee jumping."

Meanwhile Millie had decided that Lucas was a good substitute as any and crawled out enough to catch his hand between her paws and n** his fingers. Cats would never be understood by the world of mortals.

Never.

"Well... I usually have someone with smaller fingers do this kind of stuff," he said, dousing the tweezers in rubbing alcohol over the sink. Some of the smaller pieces might have to be worked out with the needle instead, but he'd cross that bridge when he got there.

Bent over Thorne's hand, Rylan gently reached into the cuts with the tweezers, slowly pulling out the glass shards embedded in them. "I don't doubt that," he said in response to the Otherworld business. "You'd know more than I do about that. If it's a war... well. At least we all have some experience with that."

A different kind of warfare, no doubt, but the end result was the same. Casualties on both sides, fighting, anger, it was all the same. It wasn't a pleasant thought. In fact, the thought of having to go back to any of that left a pit in his stomach. But he'd lived through one war, at least, and he didn't plan to be killed by a second.

"I'm not trying to keep secrets," he added, still pulling out small bits of glass from Thorne's hand. "I just don't know that much."

"Sure," Rylan nodded, still tweezing out shards of glass from the various cuts on Thorne's hand. He pressed around them gently with his thumbs to see if there was glass inside. "All wars are bad, though, and people... well, people are hardy. We adapt to the shittiness of the situation around us, and we do it pretty convincingly. We'll be alright."

And, as Autumn had said, they'd done this before. And would keep going until they succeeded in doing... whatever it was they needed to do. They'd all figure it out, one way or another, and if not... then. There was always the next life.

"So we'll prepare. It sounds like all this is inevitable, and if there's nothing we can do to prevent it, we really can't waste time worrying. Just embrace it. Even hell can be a ride if you make it one. If you're fighting, we're all fighting. That's just the way it is."