The Scarecrow leaned on Scar's arm as he attempted to get back up, but he couldn't quite get his feet under him well enough to do so. His legs weren't the only things shaking- in the dim light, he could see the rest of his body starting to tremble, reacting to something he wasn't aware of yet simply because he couldn't feel it. It had to be that sickness that had worn into him all day, he thought, or the clever little thing making things difficult. He refused to think otherwise- certainly not when they had a task to do.

He stubbornly pushed off Scar, only to end up leaning on the wall instead, his legs refusing to straighten out. He was more determined than ever by Scar's insistence he go back to the room; it struck an all-too-familiar chord in him, as it was something Depth Charge would have told him— and had told him— in similar circumstances.

"I'm not going to sit around while my roommate is in trouble, Scar," he argued, voice shaking almost as much as his limbs. "I- I'm the one who knows the way, and it'll take both of us to get him to safety. I'm just having some trouble walking, but I'll be okay in a minute. You'll see."