The thing about instant healing was that you couldn't look at someone and immediately get an idea of where they had been hurt. There were ways to tell, though. Dried blood on clothes and skin, for instance. Tears or holes in clothing. The amount of gore remaining on the floor. Joe met Booker's eyes and looked him up and down, taking in all these clues. Days of torture were clear. Joe frowned deeply both in distaste of what had been done and at the knowledge Quynh had done it.

This wasn't going to go well.

Joe nodded at the blade and appraised her once more before stepping out of the shadows and making himself known.

"We didn't abandon him," Joe said. "We punished him. And even then he's been having pretty regular visits from Nicky, so..." He shrugged in an attempt to seem at ease. His scimitar was holstered, guns resting in their spots at his side and on his back. He spread both hands out in front of him, signalling his intention to come in peace. For all the good that wouldn't do.

"Hello, Quynh." It had been so long. Even in this situation his eyes got bright and his heart soared to see his old sister again. Joe swallowed it away. "I see you met Booker. How about you let him go and you and me talk, huh? Just you and me."