"...okay." Start with the simple thing. The hospital will give them answers and everything else- they'll take it one step at a time. He slumps back against the seat, fingers flexing in Malcolm's hand. There should be something else he could be doing but honestly? He doesn't know. Nothing comes to mind. Maybe if the world wasn't fuzzy from the mug to the face.

Seriously why didn't he duck he saw it coming. What's wrong with him?