John looked directly at Chas now, the one eyebrow just quirked a smidgen upward, and his head was cocked just a little to the side. Another lecture? Sometimes John wondered who was older at heart, him or Chas, the mother hen. Any moment now Chas would start clucking.
He shook the image off abruptly. It really wasn't a fair question, anyway. John had taken the envelope as well. "Tch. Just, this isn't good. We don't even know what--" It was really better not to think of what was happening as they speak. Angela was in danger. They needed to get back to her, even if that vision had seemed like such a...lost cause. Too many demons. Too many...No. They needed to get back, to get out of here.
John shifted and promptly scratched the gauze taped to his cheek right over the gash, and then winced and pulled his hand away. He had such bad habits.
"Yeah, well, at least I have someone I can rely on." John did his best to make it as grumbley and dismissive as possible. He fidgeted with the awkwardness of that bit of honesty and huffed out a sigh.