"Please," Sato agreed, straightening up from "fixing" Arthur's necessities. She wasn't quite quick--or pushy--enough to stop Nergal from being the one to move the man from bed to chair but she did step in to be the one behind the wheel (as it were).
Arthur's breathing hitched momentarily, a dry skip in an already shaky rhythm. Automatically, Sato touched her palm to his cheek. Underneath her hand, the coming nightmare paled; Arthur's breathing deepened and steadied. They made it halfway out, blissfully free of notice and our of sight before she spoke.
"The car's near; if could stay with him, I'll--"
She froze.
Slowly, oh so slowly, the Baku tilted her dark head to the right, her profile disturbingly similar to that of a hound on alert. There was a new scent, a telltale sweetness, drifting in. It was as distinctive and unwelcome as sugar on salami.
"...Nergal-san?" Sato said in a tone of utter, entirely inappropriate calm. "Does this hospital have a chapel?"