Re: Post-Disaster
Funny how getting tossed around a ship like a rag doll seemed to sober one up fairly quickly. He was sure he'd been leaning towards slightly drunk-ish before the boat was rocked but now he felt all too aware of...everything. He looked down into Savannah's eyes and it was easy to see she was not okay. Shit.
When she reached for his hand he grasped hers gently yet firmly and with a steadiness he wasn't sure he felt. He didn't have to be a doctor to see that she was in bad shape. Fuck. "It's okay, baby, don't move." His hand lifted to gently caress her cheek before he reached to remove his suit coat. He tore off one sleeve then gently laid the coat over her to keep her warm. The sleeve was folded and used to gently press against the cut on her head. He knew it would hurt but he couldn't just let her lay there and bleed. Whether or not he should remove her boot or leave it until a professional could make the call, he was unsure.
"This boat is fucked. Everyone is fucked and it might take a little while to get help." Though if help didn't arrive within sufficient time according to CJ, someone was gonna fucking hear it. He could always carry her out of this mess but then take her where? They had to be setting something up for taking care of the wounded. Somewhere. But what if she had internal injuries made worse by him moving her? Shit fuck.
At her look of worry, a soft smile touched his lips. "I'm alright. You're gonna be alright too, I promise." Damn straight she was.