Jack ducks his head, fishes out the kit Sinclair found earlier and jabs its hypo into his burned up arm. He stiffens, because second degree burns aren't generally the best place to stab giant needles, but doesn't react otherwise as his skin smooths over into smooth pinkish scars.

Doesn't do anything for his sweater, but let's be honest, his sweater had already seen better days.

"Coast's... clear," he says haltingly.

It's a deliberate echo of what he said when he went through the crawlspace. Remember that, Sinclair? That was a happier time, can they savestate back to that and forget all... this?