protecting what's his

— How do you even do that?
— Do what?
— Shootouts, chases, fights… and you still manage to look like a damn magazine cover model! I mean — look at me! I didn’t even do anything, just face-planted on the road and now I’m sitting here like a plucked chicken. And you’re just… fine!
— Hmm. Must be my special talent, Kass. Completely useless, by the way.
— Yeah… Lucky you’re not the one hearing ghosts and eldritch crap.
— Maybe. But I can see those scrapes of yours just fine, partner. So sit still, would you?