Date: 2009-07-20 05:23 pm (UTC)
She's ... almost sorry she asked. There's a certain despondency, almost despair, in that answer. She had an idea how much he hated parts of his life. Didn't she hear the Doctor ask him if he wanted to die? And didn't Jack say that he used to think he did, but he wasn't so sure any more?

What must it be like to live your life like that, knowing that it will go on forever?

She doesn't ask him that. She's a little afraid what the answer would be.

Worst of all, there's nothing she can do to help him. Especially not here and now, now he's separated from the life he's made for himself back in Wales.

"Look after yourself, Jack," she says, as she finishes wrapping the bandage around his shoulder.

There's not a lot more than that to say on the topic at hand, but it works equally well for his shoulder, too.

"I haven't got much in the way of medication, but I have some painkillers and a few antibiotics." She made sure to bring what she could with her, after having to treat Sawyer with neither.

"I can give you those if you want. Just hang on a minute; I'll rig up a sling for you." She discards her gloves and opens up a triangular bandage. She folds it in the right way, and bends his arm at the necessary angle. "Hold it like that, and I'll tie it for you." She slips the sling under his elbow and ties the ends around his neck.

"Now, no complaining. And you'd better wear it, or I'll hear about it." She gives him a wry smile; it's the least she can do to lighten the mood, having done so much to darken it herself, however inadvertently.

"I know these words are a strange concept to you, but you need to rest. Don't push yourself."

She scribbles a few lines on a sheet of the hotel stationery, and retrieves the packets of medication from her bag. She wraps them in the paper and presses them into his good hand.
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