If the Bull didn't already have every reason in the world to take this seriously, Dorian's tone would do it. He hurries, getting close enough to the wall in the next couple seconds to lever himself up, then takes an instant to judge the distance from where he is to the door. If he angles his leg right, holds himself a certain way, goes fast enough, the brace will take enough of his weight to keep him up. That's sort of what it's for, after all - keep that spot from slipping too far a certain way. Almost what it's for. It might be dented and bent up, it has to do the job.

And if that makes it worse, gets the whole damn ankle that much closer to being done for good - well. Dorian isn't going to leave until the Bull does. Which means they're getting out of here. Anything that happens after that has to be worth it.

He's not going to make Dorian wait, or spend so much energy on this now that it's going to mess Dorian up later. There's no time left to hesitate. So he doesn't hesitate. He goes, hunching below the ceiling, leaning forward so the bent bottom lip of the brace digs into the top of his foot with every step, breath whistling in and out between clenched teeth and then he's through the doorway, not a good idea to stop or it will be that much harder to get going again but he has to stop once he's got that semblance of cover, has to make sure that Dorian's coming behind him.

He leans back against the wall, all his weight on his right foot, chest heaving fast and teeth still clenched. "Dorian!" That will be enough to get him here. It had better be. The Bull will be ready to start moving again the moment Dorian makes it back here too - his body isn't going to like it but if he can lean on this wall and kind of hop, put as little weight as possible on that ankle, then for a while he can move. If he doesn't try to put any real weight on it then he won't collapse, and until that happens, he knows how to use the pain.