Jonas' situation hadn't been much better. He'd gotten in a fight with some of the other guards over his report and wound up writing what he saw. That the kid had died, his friends believed they were innocent and then the guards had drawn their weapons again. They were kids. They'd not been in hostile territory, but Jonas knew how those sort of things could escalate. But he also knew it made him look soft towards the freaks on the island, but at this point, the guards and soldiers were outnumbered anyway. There was no point in starting a revolution.
When he finally made it to her house he wasn't doing much better, testing the door and letting himself in, dressed in his clothes again and not his uniform, looking for her and frowning when he found her on the couch. He didn't say anything at first, just reaching for her to move her so he could sit with her head in his lap, his hand stroking her hair.