Jon knew that Morrigan would ask what was wrong as he hobbled. The pain in his right leg getting worse and worse whenever he stepped down on it. "It'll be fine," he told her; he was fully aware of the break but if he acknowledged, it would make the pain worse. Instead, he worked his way towards her, unaware of the one about ready to attack his back. But he was aware of the chair sent the guy's way. "Fight or flight syndrome, I'd assume." He knew that the adrenaline was at a high.
But before he could add more, the curse in retaliation hit his sister, causing her to fall on him and he tried to brace himself to catch her fall, but his left foot surged with pain from the fall. And he heard the crack, oh Éire this wasn't good. He knew about head injuries. What if this was fatal? He needed to keep calm. He had to. He need to. For Morrigan if anything.
"Emmy," he told her quietly, using the nickname he was so fond of for her as he checked for bleeding and the like. He cradled her head, keeping it steady since he didn't want the head injury to get any worse. "Stay with me, okay? You need to keep your eyes open, dear." He didn't know if she was going to lose consciousness from the fall. But his worry was at such an extreme high at the moment.