Oliver snorted, though it hurt his nose and he soon stopped. "That's pretty much exactly right," he muttered, tilting his head briefly against Jo's in response.
Oliver didn't like being the one who needed someone to be there for him; he was too used to falling into the other role. But Jo was Jo, and she had always been too stubborn to let him go without a shoulder to lean on. Or a shirt to bleed on, apparently.