Thor's grip holds as the figure flails. He isn't hurting him by any means, but there are few mortals who could wrench themselves from the grip of a fully powered Thor. Particularly when he is full of determination and making a beeline toward the station. Even a kick to the head isn't enough to get him off this track.

He does, however, hold a hand up bidding Carlos to stop even though he knows he likely can't see it. When he considers that, he moves a hand up to pat the leg in his arm as comfortingly as possible. It's not long before they're finally nearing solid ground, not long until Thor is wrenching them inside and fumbling to stop Carlos from hitting the floor hard.

He places him down, working on shedding the heavy suit to reveal the bright red suit under instead. With that out of the way, he's moving in to try help Carlos with his own suit. He still has no idea who he is, not until he unscrews the helmet and catches sight of the all too familiar hair.

"Carlos." It's funny how much emotion you can fit into one word. Thor is conveying worry and relief, but there's something stern in his tone and expression. He has his powers, he has Carlos, this Arena is going to be crucial.