[He is nothing if not (terribly, painfully) hyper-aware, even in his scattered state of mind. Movement, sound, anything in this place is like a beacon for his starved attention.
He latches onto it, and crouches next to her, staring. (He is not a doctor.) His eyes scan her face and her wound, unrefined information-gathering. (John is a doctor.) There's nothing he can do.
(John is also a soldier.)
Anger swells, claws at the back of his throat. He doesn't even know her, doesn't have a reason to care, but how dare she still be alive when she's just going to die, too.
He doesn't say anything, just leans forward to put pressure on her wound. It's stupid and pointless, his mind screams, but his hands don't seem to have gotten the message.]
no subject
He latches onto it, and crouches next to her, staring. (He is not a doctor.) His eyes scan her face and her wound, unrefined information-gathering. (John is a doctor.) There's nothing he can do.
(John is also a soldier.)
Anger swells, claws at the back of his throat. He doesn't even know her, doesn't have a reason to care, but how dare she still be alive when she's just going to die, too.
He doesn't say anything, just leans forward to put pressure on her wound. It's stupid and pointless, his mind screams, but his hands don't seem to have gotten the message.]