It's too much to think she's been here longer than a moment. That she might have been out there unbeknownst to him packs a guilt and frustration he can't parse right now. When she takes the chance to cling to him, he offers himself up entirely to whatever support she needs to borrow from someone not still reeling from the impact of arrival in this place.

"It's me, it's me..." he promises. Catching her as she collapses on him. "I gotchu, Jeannie. I ain't exactly glad to see you here, but I'm here. And I gotchu."

Of the two of them, he's not the one anybody wants comfort from. In fact, he struggles just to know what to say that might take either the fear or despair out of her voice. Sort on words and brimming with a need to be some help, he waits until she gathers herself enough to look up at him again.

"C'mon. Let's get outta here. Get you some place you can rest."