"Have you no insight as to your own limits," he hisses, managing to sound breathlessly annoyed and not the slightest bit concerned for the apparently flagging strength of his unwanted, unneeded, inept companion. With a low dragging sound of annoyance he yanks one arm over the uneven set of his shoulders and heaves the other man through the split in the quantum fabric of their spatial existence, into the relative safety of a conveniently deserted warehouse.

"If you suffer some sort of fucking vasovagal episode," growls Nick, dark and weighted with unconcealed warning, "I will be extremely annoyed."