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Unwilling to lift his face completely off yet so fresh from the embarrassing breakdown, Jack merely turned it so that he could breathe easier and sniffled. "Mm," was all he could manage, too tired for even the question mark to be added.

For another stretch of time he rested his head and regulated his breathing and tried not to think too much about the gem embedded in her skin, its smoothness unnatural and cold next to Chel's skin and being. "Lighthouse blew up," he mumbled as a reminder, but it sounded too much like later, like he was trying to excuse himself. In reality, now he wished he had just gone and gotten something before. He should have. He didn't want to be Ian and Shiloh, treating it like some long drawn out process--like this was normal, like they had the guarantee of time.

"As soon as we're back online," he promised. If they even let him. He wondered just how public their fight had been, if they would deny him even leave access just based on suspicion or allow him to move still under that invisible but close watch. Or if at some point he'd have to wear the bracelet.

"Mm." He finally straightened up and rubbed at his face, a scowl partially forming at himself for the display this, as if being angry with himself was the solution to getting over this quicker. At least Owain was quiet. "Not gonna cry like a retard anymore, no. You?"

Jack rubbed at his eyes again and tugged his shirt up to dry his face quicker, feeling only minutely less gross afterwards. It'd been a long time since he had let himself go that far, and now he remembered why.

"Okay. But I'm doing that tomorrow." Tomorrow when he was less emotional and less tired and more willing to actually face other people at all. "Today I'd rather just go home," he said with a drained but hopeful look that he wouldn't be alone again.

He cupped one side of her face in turn, tapping her cheek with his thumb as he replied, "Yours has the private shower, babe."

Upon taking the goggles, he blearily blinked at them, belatedly remembered something, and pat his chest in search of it. As it turned out, the sunglasses he has worn on the way over had been forgotten in the midst of their conversation, but they weren't far. Jack was able to lean over and snatch them up, checking the lenses and blowing some dust off before offering them to her. He didn't know if Chel cared as much about appearance in this case, but the tradeoff felt more appropriate to him nevertheless.

Jack reached out to stop her. "They're all in the infirmary," he said. "Take the rest of the day for yourself, Chel." He realized saying so for Abbi in particular might raise questions, so he sighed and added, "She got into a fight with one of the traitors, but she's fine. We'll both look in tomorrow, sound good?"

He squinted as the last days of sun hit him through the pink goggle lenses. He knew Chel wouldn't be able to rest at all without looking in, but it had been worth a shot to try and keep her longer. "Okay. Then I'll walk you to the tents, then," Jack told her as he started to lead them there. He neither offered to stay outside or join her; these were things she would want to do on her own anyway, and Jack had no desire to linger around the premises until duty called. Chel had drained him enough as it was.

"I don't know what happened, but I asked around; it's the real a*****e in there," he informed her. "So. Little miracles and all."