"There're worse things," Carla Jean says pointedly, shoulders lifting in a shrug. Coming down sick would be unpleasant, but she could deal with it; she's more concerned about who else might be wandering these streets. "Besides, I could say the same to you," she adds, though she relents after just a moment, teeth pressing to her lip before she answers. It's not like she has a reason not to tell him, even if she's mostly distracted now by the idea of this fight he was apparently in. If it was at a party, it's probably not anything for anyone else to be worried about, but it still happened and he's still hurt. When he was there for her before, she might as well return the favor now. "I was headin' back to my own place, but I'm in no hurry to get there. Why don't you let me go with you?"