The lecture probably should've come. After all, Brandon had just put his life at risk to save someone who seemed to hate him more than anything. But faced with a bloodied face and tear-streaked cheeks, any irritation fell dead in the water. Fuck. Yeah, it was a fuck up, but she'd already been through hell. Telling her that could wait at least until they were back in the prison walls.
"Sorry. I'm big on making entrances." His facial expression showed her that no, he wasn't going to just let this slide, but right now wasn't the time.
He looked around. The place was a mess. Had that one smasher done all of this? "You alright?" he asked her. Dumb question, maybe. But one that needed asking. She didn't look like she was alright, but she didn't look too terribly scathed either.
When they got back up to the roof, he'd use his limited medical knowledge to check her over, but for now, there was little time for stuff like that. "C'mon." He nodded at the door. "I'll check that over when we get somewhere safer. But for now, we need to get the fuck out of here."
After they'd stepped through the door to the stairway, Brandon used a nearby shelf to barricade it a little. Buy them some time in case a couple hungry fucks outside got any ideas. But they still needed to move it.
Once they were on their way back up the stairs, back out the way Brandon came in, he turned his head to look at her over his shoulder. "So, what the hell was so important that you had to risk both our lives to come out here for it?" he asked her. And if we're not friends, why'd you call me to come save your ass? was a secondary question. But he didn't ask it. Not right now anyway.
Now that he had the time to look, he saw the smasher's brain matter splattered on the floor behind where he'd taken it down, and he shook his head and blinked. Shit, man.