Could she come in. Of all the times ... He shifted and his foot came down on a piece of china with a crunch and a stab of pain which made him jerk back with a curse. His heel hit the cupboard, sparking pain up his ankle; he grit his teeth and gripped the edge of the counter tightly, then very carefully leaned down to make sure he wasn't bleeding. He wasn't, so he let out a slow, faintly shaken breath.

There was freaking china on the floor and he had no way to clean it up, because he couldn't freaking find anything without knocking something else over. No matter what Re-l was going to say, he needed the help. And part of him, under the humiliation and dread, was relieved beyond words that she was all right.

"Yes," he said, and his tone was small and defeated.