John pushes away from the wall rapidly, much less careful as he makes his way across the dancefloor to Nathan, hesitant to touch the man because, Christ, it doesn't look like there's a square inch of skin that wouldn't hurt. "Business," he says briefly. "Mr. Palin's gonna be right back."
And with that out the way, he can turn his attention to a friend who looks like he's been done over. "Jesus, Nate. Who happened to you? When?"