[ By the time Joan comes in, she's managed to stow as much of her baggage for the sake of a steady pair of hands. Just how long they remain steady is another question altogether, though when she reminds herself of the current scenario (ie: duct tape) her anxiety gives way to a sort of peevishness that pinches her expression.

She has with her her own medical kit, not waterlogged as it came with her from Rapture. And much more impressively stocked given the resources found in city's medical pavillon. Setting it down, she looks at him squarely — she's so small and he's so huge, they're almost eye-to-eye with him slumped on the bottom bunk. ]

Never be sorry for asking me for help. That's what I'm here for. [ Making a small motion with her hands, she urges him to stand up. ] What you should be sorry for is not telling me sooner.