He reaches to take her hands. An odd gesture that has him pulling his hands back for a moment, as if hers were too hot to touch, before he holds her hands in his lap. It's a little strange to think of all the good she does with them superimposed on top of his, seemingly only capable of violence.

"You're okay," he reassures, and he manages to fill the usual hollowness in his voice with something genuine and determined. He could say that he's sorry it happened to her, but he's no longer surprised by the things people have been getting away with on home soil while he's been out fighting the big bad. In hindsight it all feels a bit shortsighted of him.

"Hell of a city huh. New York." They could take some small comfort in the fact that most people here were too preoccupied with their demerit points to try crap like that.