He looks awful. Awful, and tired and, well, old. even around the swelling rising from his eye. It's unsettling and frightening, and Yoko's grip loosens, her elbow stilling. She takes a deep breath, and looks up over her shoulder. "First we've gotta get out of the way," she says, and shifts up. First aid training plays in her head. "Bad knee... Oooh, you get to be the test dummy for my fireman's carry," she says, the humor tense as she leans forward. She pulls on her hand pointedly in order to try and dislodge his hand from her arm.

"C'mon, dad, we can't be in the way," she says, more softly. He's looking a little green--she hopes being upside down over her shoulder isn't going to push him over the edge into being sick. It's already going to be a tough drive home.