John saw that look in her eyes. Heard that tone in her voice when she responded to him. Was good and bad so simple to her? He couldn't disagree with her. John knew he wasn't the type of person to send someone to Hell for amusement. There was no amusement in that. At the same time, John was also fairly petty and he had been known to curse people who pissed him off. Not swore at them, actually put curses on them. Usually they were bottom of the barrel assholes who showed no compassion. Thieves and liars, criminals and thugs. For a brief moment it made him think of London, and the child he was asked to resurrect. The things he had to do in order to survive that ordeal...
John continued to smoke, thinking about what she said. With his free hand he reached out to touch her hand, hoping it might offer some comfort.
"Nothing like that's going to happen to you or anyone else on this station" he said, trying to reassure himself at the same time. "And if it does... you know we'll all do our best to put a stop to it, yeah?" he said, trying to put on a brave face for her sake.