L's request for help, and the assistance that had come, had gone down in the blink of the eye. Whatever reason Xander felt guilty over for not helping was going to be gently assumed to be far more noble, simply because the coordination hadn't exactly been something L had been able to keep an eagle eye on. He'd been too busy attempting to keep Tony from bleeding out with the tattered remains of his short-lived Armani suit.

He stirred at the familiar voice, wondering if it was really a good thing that his own was back in working order. While not being able to talk was undeniably frustrating, it was freeing in ways, too. It meant that people asked questions and didn't really expect answers beyond a certain point.

He cleared his throat. "You can come in, Xander."