[He wants to wipe away her tears, but he knows without seeing exactly what condition his hands are in. Ignoring the agony that comes with moving them, they wouldn't exactly be effective for comfort at the moment. So instead he turns his head, presses a kiss into her hair, breathing a sigh into the soft locks.]

Ahh, where has the excitable little girl with stars in her eyes gone?

[A trick question; she both never existed and has always existed. Angela wants nothing but the best for everyone around her, yet she is steadfast in her morals, refusing to let herself be walked all over just because she was a medic among battle-hardened veterans. Leading a mission straight into Talon territory to rescue him? He's unfathomably proud of her, an already large heart swelling with the emotion.]

My guardian angel, [he concedes instead.] Always flying to my rescue.

[Experience has taught him just how much her nanites can do for him, so he keeps still until he knows the threshold has been reached. It's enough to make moving feasible in the first place, dulling the pain to a manageable ache, and he pushes himself, slow and careful, into sitting up. He knows his weight is too much for her - for anyone, really, but especially her - to manage on her own, and he's determined to let her know that he's far from out of the fight, even in this state. He's ready to do what he can.

Once he's off the floor, he grins at her. Grins as though he hadn't just been beaten toward the end of his life.]

Then we should... get back before anyone else begins to worry. I would hate for them to start thinking that Reinhardt Wilhelm could be defeated.

[The very indignity of the idea.]