'Fluids' is a rather vague term. He looks at the bag skeptically. It looks innocuous enough, but clear doesn't necessarily mean safe. He doesn't trust it. What if this is all a trick to poison him?

If that were truly the case, surely York would have just left him to die without this mysterious fluid.

"Very well." His tone is quiet and defeated. Between his nerves and the flu, Tarn is a quivering wreck, drawn so tightly that he feels like he might just snap in half.