He's braced for the expected impact of something lunging out of the vent at him — planning to move with their momentum rather than against it, the easier it will be to flip them into the wall — only to have his would-be assailant tumble unceremoniously to the ground before him.

Recognition causes his usual impassive facade to slip, revealing an expression of anxiety and surprise, with a trace of undisguised happiness if one knew what what to look for on a face that rarely smiles. He's not smiling now. He reaches to help Beth regain her feet, simultaneously checking her over for injuries, an act that's second nature by this point.

Not quite the reunion he'd hoped they'd have, but at least she's alive. Trapped in an arena death match with him, but alive. Alive is what matters.

"How'd you get here?" he asks in a voice similarly hushed, and scans the hallway for possible threats that might be drawn by the noise. "What's goin' on?"

He nods for her to come with him and carefully starts moving forward, not wanting to linger there too long now that others have undoubtedly been alerted to their location. Best to keep moving and looking for supplies.