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[He grunts at that, rubbing at his face wearily. It had felt like longer than that. He probably needed a longer rest than that. His resiliency in bouncing back from injury could be pretty damn impressive, even if it was 90% due to his stubbornness, but something like this was gonna need a lot more downtime than he cared for.

A sigh, then he's glancing back her way. While the gentleness in her expression wasn't unwelcome, it did bring about some uneasiness in him. It always felt odd to him, comforting gestures like that. His usual brashness meant it wasn't something that he experienced all that often, and half the time when he did he wound up brushing it off in a hurry.

Still, he makes an effort not to shy away from it. He clears his throat—wincing as a result—before giving another shot at speaking. Didn't much help the roughness draped over his words though.]

Probably won't be doing much but sleep for a while. [He hated the mere thought of it. The fact that their other rovermates were in the same position didn't make him feel much better about it either.] Guess you're stuck babysitting the lot of us, huh?

[In the space between words, hers and his, Havoc allowed him the privacy of weakness, turning her head back to the soup she had simmering on the small kitchen stove the rover provided. Turned back for the clearing of throat, the coming speech.]

I don't mind babysitting.

[Assured, making sure to keep her tone light, conversational. No need to think about incurring debt or inconvenience. After all- she was free. Unpunished.]

- do you like soup?

[The only explanation for that somewhat classic, somewhat distorted smell of homemade... meat and leek? Was that even recognizable meat?]

[Even if he'd never admit it, Holland is glad there's someone here to look out for them while they recover. The question gets the slightest of nods from him. He can't deny that he's hungry, though the feeling is somewhat muted by his exhaustion. Food would do him some good.]

Soup's fine by me.

[His gaze drifts to that pot she's got simmering on the stove. Not exactly a familiar aroma, but not unpleasant either.]

Didn't know you had a knack for cooking.

[Really didn't know much of anything about her—or his other roommates, for that matter. Probably well past time he remedied that.]

[At his agreement Havoc only nodded, moving to busy herself with further preparation. Fetching a bowl, turning down the heat, finding a clean spoon, all of the little actions that allowed her not to focus on the guilt.

Convenient hobby, cooking.]

Surprise.

[Still trying to keep it light, beginning to ladle out a bowl.]

It's something I picked up in the last few years... pretty useful.

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