He frowned when he caught sight of her pale face with the sheen of sweat over it. The door was barricaded, he assumed, and found he was right as he pushed it open, the furniture scraping against the floor. Finally, he was able to get himself into the room, and he took a full look at her.
"Get your things," he said, the tone in his voice the one he used when he didn't want an argument. "You're going to recover in a space where you don't have to shove furniture against the exits and fall asleep clutching your weapons. Recovery means peace of mind, and I'm offering that to you." His expression softened a bit as he looked at her. "As a friend."