"Not a goddamn thing," she answers, dropping her bag and stripping out of her jacket, leaving them both on the floor near the door before she crosses to where he is on the stupid chair and reaches both her hands toward him to help him down. He's going to end up with a second broken leg if he's not careful and she's pretty sure the last thing he wants -- the last thing either of them want -- is another broken limb to deal with. There's no way she can be here all the time to make sure he doesn't start climbing the walls, maybe literally, given what he's doing now, but she's starting to wonder if she should work something out with Chuck.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asks, her brows still drawn together in a frown. "I mean, seriously, you're just gonna break your other leg and drive yourself even more crazy when you can't move at all." For some reason, she would have expected the fact that he got hit by a car to make her a little more sympathetic, but she finds she's actually pissed off at him. Or maybe she's pissed off at herself for not being here, but either way, she's mad.