"I'm fine," Lana shot back, as soon as he'd finished. She wasn't, but she would be, and that was close enough. "I think that sounds like an excellent idea.

She glanced down the hallway, towards the sun room; while they didn't need to go that way, not with a ring, she couldn't help looking. A pair of patients were eying the open doors. Children. Late teens at the outmost for the older one; he might be a legal adult but, if so, only by a technicality. Lana's stomach lurched, this time for reasons that had nothing to do with radioactive butterflies, having had little other than a flower for dinner, or a week of illness. She shoved the feeling back down, narrowed her eyes, and held out her hand. There was a damn good reason they were doing this, ill and injured and walking into what they all knew was a trap.

"The sooner we start, the sooner it will be over with."