He only nodded gently in reply to the soft reassurances, sighing and gathering himself mentally before he walked over and hefted Nico's Punisher over his shoulder.

"'S Fine. It's only a couple iles away. We should be there within the hour."

And then he was out the door of the room, walking down the stairs and out the door to the inn and making his way down the road that lead to the orphanage in the distance, visible by the belltower over the home.

Already, just seeing the place, the closer they got, the more he felt his hangover kicking in, weighing down on his mind, melding with the anxiety and the dissociation until he felt like he was floating more than walking. And that was fine by him, to be honest, he would rather this whole thing go by in a dream-like blur than actually be too conscious of what they were about to do. It wasn't like he hadn't done this before, though it hadn't been since he was fairly young, when the Eye had really started kicking up the fucked up training they'd put him through and he'd gone a bit spacey before he'd learned to deal with everything.

It didn't take long for him to find the grave once they were close enough to make out the landmarks around the building. The sight of his old Punisher wrapped and propped up at the head of a large, flat gravestone was easy to see against the landscape. He didn't say a word as he adjusted his path, didn't even say anything after he had propped the weapon he was carrying against a half-broken wall and stepped forward to stare down at the grave, arranged with care and attention, even more than he was used to seeing even from Needle-noggin's usual burials.

For a long few minutes, he just stood, and stared, motionless. He would need a bit. Sorry, Blondie.