John lets Ianto take it, because spilling hot soup on himself isn't really his idea of a good time, and then slides to his feet as well -- moves to a good spot and carefully drops to sit down. With one arm restricted, everything is a lot harder. Even things that don't technically require hands. It's a balance thing.

"Just set it down and eat your own soup," John says, somehow making it both a gentle chide and an instruction all at once. "I'm guessing you were up there long enough to get hungry."

Whereas John was on a train first and came from Olympia, and he brought food with him -- even if it was dried. It's still fine, he has technically eaten. His eyes flick to the bread in his good hand and he takes a small, hesitant bite. Yeah, he definitely is feeling nauseous. Good to know. The question is, is it the painkiller or is it the arm?