Fuck. Okay. She kneels down as Freya whines, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. It worries Leah deep in her soul that Carver only twitches, and doesn't wake. It's unlike him.

"He's warm," she agrees quietly. If there's a fever, at least it isn't burning him alive. Not yet. "Realistically, can you make the report without him?"

Pope can at least stand. She can bribe and threaten her way into help making him look the part for an hour or so. But if Carver can't even do that much, then they need to figure something else out right now.

Leah strokes Carver's hair, trying to wake him. "Hey," she murmurs, shaking him. "Brandon."

He twitches. Eyes half-lidded, more than a little unfocused as he peers at her.