[One hand to reach up and fix the knot of his tie, the other holding the bottom steady. A frown tugs at the corner of his lips, and Connor (odd as it is), takes in the meaning behind the look of Meddy's eyelights. Expression might be harder to garner from a face that isn't human, since that was what he was programmed to unravel and interpret, but the tone? Far less so.

Connor is well-attuned, after all, to the sound of disapproval.]

I'll be fine. ...I promise.

[This isn't like last time, where there was threat of him frying his circuitry again. This was an ingrained need to help those around him, to keep the Circle functioning. (To keep his friends, those he's become close with, functioning.)]

I want to help. I need to. I'd be useless, otherwise, standing in one place and accomplishing nothing for anyone here.