[Perhaps if their roles were reversed, Rip would make the argument for Peggy’s escape—but that’s not how the situation has played out. So instead of dwelling on the recriminations, Rip deals with what currently is, which at the moment happens to be a sad attempt at a square torn out of fabric which he brings over to sop up those stray droplets of blood.

Or to allow her to; Rip already knows better than to think Peggy would lie cooperatively still while he addressed the cut. So instead he hands over the scrap, at the same time arching an eyebrow as she tries to appeal to services towards the greater good.]

While I’m sure there must be, there is equally damn good reason to see you taken care of. [She’ll hate the words but Rip speaks them anyway.] You’ve still got your recruits to see to after this mess is over—and I’ve got little doubt that those guards have a vendetta against you personally. There’s no guarantee that they’re going to be satisfied with the ends as they stand.

[And while Rip hadn’t been able to help during that first encounter, he’s not about to leave Peggy alone to have a second. By the time curfew came around, others would have returned to this cell. Though it hardly settles well to have to rely on them, at the very least, Peggy wouldn’t be left on her own.]

I can behave myself around the guards. You’d be better off conserving your strength. You aren’t going to change my mind.