Come on Marcie, swallow it, Tragos thought, distressed eyes watching her as she writhed in pain, hoping against hope it would do something. Swallow it, it'll stop the pain, please, please let it stop the pain. Maybe he should have tried one of the potions instead, but he didn't have much faith in them. Morphine, though. Morphine actually did something. It should work? But Marcie wasn't swallowing it, or wasn't able to swallow it, and looked more and more like she might choke as she clutched onto him, her words barely audible over the rush of blood in his ears.
I love you he wanted to say it back, but his throat was choking him. He could get her to help, though - suddenly remembering they weren't the only two people on the planet, or even in this apartment. "Hold on," he managed to rasp, sliding his arm under her knees and hauling her (she was not heavy, but lifting any awkwardly shaped human from the ground was never easy) into his arms as he got to his feet.
He kicked the door to the rest of the apartment open, stumbling in and dripping blood as he moved. "Someone help her!" He'd found his voice for that, demanding and furious. "Someone do something!"