"Looks worse than it is. The Healing Unit is working overtime." Little by little, sure. If he could find somewhere to rest and not run for like, fifteen minutes? He'd be doing better. "Gimme a hand up?"

That's all he needs. Someone to help him stand and get him to cover long enough for his armor to do it's job. That's all. He's not entirely helpless but- he's a mess. A harmless mess. York extends an arm with a wince, something pulling uncomfortably under the armor plating. Cleaning it is gonna be a bitch, later.

"I can walk." Just. Get him on his feet.