It's better than being dragged back in pieces, frankly—anything beyond that, he'll take. Except the lack of response to any of several CiD calls, that is. He doesn't like that very much.

Nor does he like having to wait to be let in, even for a moment, as he knocks on the door to his friend's room... but he can deal. Still dressed in scuffed-up kevlar, dirt on his boots, his hair a bit crazy, but without the respirator and sans gloves, he took the stairs two at a time on his way up here. And now he's considering opening the lock, because he can, and just barging in there. But he should give the man a moment, at least. "Charles? The trip is over, I'm back now."