protocol: (► ladderpoints is now upon us)
WASHINGTON. ([personal profile] protocol) wrote in [community profile] forbarrayar 2017-03-06 05:19 pm (UTC)

Wash somehow manages to look even more tired out here, blinking up at the light as he tugs the mask down just enough for him to get some actual air. He stands there for a moment, breathing deeply, and it's a world of difference, just outside the tent compared to inside it, where everything is cramped and full of the sick and dying, full of people desperately bustling around trying to do their damned best to help.

A twinge of guilt, already, for being out here instead of helping. But no, they've both done more than their fair share. A short rest is more than earned.

"I don't know, honestly." A little reluctantly, but honestly enough, and he sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck, running a hand through his already messy hair. "Hardly been thinking about anything else, and I just -- figured you could probably use a break, too."

Even now his mind is running through patients and lists of symptoms, the last time he checked on them, their dwindling supplies of synergine.

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