It took all of Francis' willpower to keep his gag reflex in check as he listened to Dietre get sick. He wasn't too proud to close his eyes, but he also really doubted Dietre was watching him when he was barfing his guts out. Vomit didn't bother him much unless he felt sick himself, so it was safe to say Francis felt like complete shit.
Once Dietre was finished for the moment, Francis slowly took a seat on the bed. Without thinking too hard about it (which he couldn't do for how much his brain felt like lead), he grabbed the trashcan a set it on the floor close to the bed. He'd be able to grab it if Dietre made a motion to throw up, and hopefully he wouldn't be too late.
Actually, hopefully he wouldn't have to deal with any of it again at all. He had an idea, even though he wasn't sure it would be a complete fix. Francis could cure things like hangovers by helping the body purify itself at a faster rate than it could without aid, but considering he had a hangover himself his healing abilities wouldn't be up to par. Even if he couldn't cure Dietre completely, he could probably help to take most of the pain away and leave him feeling vaguely rundown. Better than throwing up every five minutes, though.
Francis didn't ask permission before he put his hand on Dietre's face, covering it gently. The kid looked pale and painful lying there, but as Francis concentrated and allowed his healing energy to enter Dietre, some color did touch the teen's cheeks. Unfortunately, it made Francis just feel worse, and by the time he drew his hand back he didn't know if his body wanted to remain conscious or not as it teetered on the edge.
"Feel better?" His voice sounded unfocused. Francis let himself sink down against the sheets.