Terry was well aware of Lena's background, and her skill in regards to information gathering, operating in the field. He knew she was a good agent, a great spy. But he also knew her, and he could tell when she was putting up a front for appearance's sake. That tough, nearly lifeless expression that made it easier to push down whatever incident had just occurred in order for her to easily process it. Honestly, he knew because he did it too, except he hid behind sarcasm and scowling. The fact she felt she had to do that right now meant something very bad had just transpired, and he felt the tense feeling in his chest double at the implication.
"I know what you're saying," he said, his voice short, slightly clipped as his eyes analyzed more, watching as she tightened her fists, hiding the damage from him. A lump formed in his throat and he pushed it back down, instead slowly reaching down to brush his hand along her wrist, hoping maybe she would just show him instead of making him ask.
Opening his mouth anyway to question what exactly 'handled' meant, he closed it, instead looking her over once more as he worked through too many thoughts and emotions flowing through him at once until he settled on the only thing that made the most sense. "Come on. My place." After a moment he worked his tongue along the front of his lips from the inside, wrapping his hand gentle, but firmly around her wrist, careful to not hurt her any more than she already was. "Please." Maybe this was more for him than for her, he wasn't sure, but the last thing he wanted right now was for her to hide away in her attic space like she was some sort of criminal instead of the fighter she was.