John didn't negate what Chas said. He didn't offer any protest to the kid's denial of his guilt. At the same time he knew it wasn't true. It was John that had pushed it too far. John that had made the birds attack. John, that was now squinting at Chas and the blood over his eyes. John that mumbled, "One of these days you're going to have to worry about yourself for a change." He was just reaching to touch the arch of Chas' eyebrow, to--perhaps cruelly--wipe away the blood with a thumb, when Rain started awake.
John snatched his hand back and stiffened, looking immediately to her as she scrambled up to her feet and started...trying to take over for Chas.
Chas worrying and doting on the exorcist was one thing. It was normal. He was used to it. Very used to it. It still made John painfully aware of himself and just how much the things he insisted were true were not always, but...he had grown accustomed to Chas' playing the mother hen. When Rain started it up, however, both of their behavior became suddenly unbearable.
John fidgeted, and directed his eyes off at one wall. His shoulders hunched up high around his neck and he mumbled. "I'm fine." And he didn't smile, just avoided looking at the both of them, and generally seemed about two seconds from squirming away. "You should talk. You ran back out like mad woman." A glance at Rain. Because really, she had had it worse than him, aside from the coughing up a lung part.