Pyro was not only sick, but incredibly dense at times. Plus he really wanted to see this through, which he'd help the best he could at every corner of the way.
Which, John was exactly that. A kicked puppy. Look at him.
When Tony came back with the blanket and threw it at him, John was wrapped just as fast wanting to lose that chill. "Look, hey.." He started. "I was a writer in a past life." Two past lives ago. "If you want me to transcribe for you, I have a pretty decent words a minute count, and I don't need to look at the keyboard." Look, Pyro didn't want to sit there on his hands. He wanted to do what he had to do to help. If he couldn't science, which everyone should know now, he couldn't, he wanted to do something to help.
Then he followed up his statement. "Kitty. Her name is Kitty..." He muttered. "You're probably right. She'd probably kick my ass firmly if she heard me more concerned about her than myself." That was the type of woman she was.