He turned, a hold out weapon leveled as she started sending, his eyes flat as he leveled it, before suddenly realizing who it was, barely managing to not squeeze the trigger as he twisted his arm, the sudden movement nearly breaking it. He shuddered as he stared at the weapon, a single thought clear in his mind before his mind reverted to its old tendency to scatter down multiple paths.<em>Should I have returned? I am not fit to be among them anymore. Too much death, too much fighting, too many battlefield reflexes to be a person anymore. More broken than I thought. Good thing they are staying, we are a bigger threat to them than anyone else. Shit, the death squad is likely as bad as me, maybe worse. They don't have driving goal now, they got home, and now figure out what next. Crap, new problem, fix later. Fix myself first.</em>"Sorry, more fucked up than I thought. And thank you. But not back yet. Don't tell them why, just tell them go to ground, get home. I might not survive the treatment. Good possibility of me getting blasted rather than helped."<br/><br/>He shoved the thoughts aside, accepting the request to upload information, and nearly wept in relief. He had a couple weeks at most before he had to drain another construct to dope his power levels back up. He just had to hope Jashah and E'Lune were home, or nearby. He swept through the ruins as he and the remaining four constructs moved back up, not relaxing even though they had just cleared it, at least not until they were on the transport and desperately dashing for the Draenei's plane. He just had to sit back, and use the carefully cultivated patience he had earned.