She goes very still. The way that Pope holds himself. How pale Carver is. It speaks to certain things, in the end. Certain wounds. No wonder Pope didn't take them back to base. She swallows hard, looking away to steel herself to the task. And if tears prick at her eyes, she puts them aside.
"I'll take care of him," she says simply. She'll keep Carver warm, get him stabilize. She'll keep him alive like she has for years now. "What about you, sir?"
The sad truth of it is she can't tell which of them she needs to tend to first, and she only has two hands.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-06-18 02:24 am (UTC)"I'll take care of him," she says simply. She'll keep Carver warm, get him stabilize. She'll keep him alive like she has for years now. "What about you, sir?"
The sad truth of it is she can't tell which of them she needs to tend to first, and she only has two hands.