The way she grabbed his hand... He wanted to reassure her, wanted to take away her worry, and hated himself for being the cause of it. Had he but controlled himself better... Elias had wanted to protect her from this. Protect her from worrying over a person the way she was worrying over him. And there was pride in it, too; he could recognize this. He did not prefer that her first impressions of him came between weak and stifled sounds of pain. Weak. That was the key.
Wordless for the moment as he fought back against the onslaught, he nevertheless lifted the back of her clutching hand to his lips in the hope that the gesture would soothe her. He heard her worry in that soft whisper at his shoulder. He knew he was making her fret. He didn't like it. He didn't like anything about this.
"You're right," he said, when he could. "We should go. But on one condition: You go home afterward. Yes?"
He could endure many things. Having her stay at the hospital for him in those awful waiting rooms was not one of them. She had work in the morning, he was sure of it. No, he wouldn't have her put herself out any more than she already had.