He huffs out a decidedly unamused little laugh and pushes his hair off of his forehead, then shakes his head again. Because there's nothing better to do, he reaches out to brush a piece of plaster off Charlie's shoulder. There's no way he'll be able to help Charlie get the plaster out of his hair.

"Well," he finally says, trying desperately hard not to break into a litany of particularly unpleasant swearing, "We're just going to have to fix it."

Or live without a wall, and that's unacceptable.