His tiny act of kindness made her want to pick up the heater and throw it at him, how dare he, right now? Melpomene buried her hands under her arms, which was much, much less warm than the heater, and frowned. What the fuck was she supposed to do now? She had no idea, but Will was talking, and it was practically instinct to tug that misery out of him. She looked over at him, assessing. "Robin didn't want to take his walking wounded?"