Marcus wasn't surprised when she tasked him with divvying the rest of the pills, though he erroneously assumed it was because she wasn't sure she could cut them into the right amounts. Even halving tablets was a pain in the ass, and quartering them was particularly tricky. He took his time with it, since she was just feeding the kid. Antibiotics were precious, and he didn't want to waste anything by reducing a tablet to powder by accident. By the time she was done with the applesauce, he'd reduced the remaining tablets into tiny pie slices of medicine, which he carefully put in a little envelope for her to use later.
"Play?" He asked, confusion furrowing his brow. It wasn't disgust or disdain, more like she'd asked him to perform some kind of alien ritual in a language he barely understood. What is this 'play' of which you speak, woman? I don't comprehend your mouth words. Not wishing to look a fool, he tried to smirk it off. Play it cool. He looked down at the child and snorted. "Heh. Try not to bite most of the time, myself."
Vaccines were often tricky to transport, and he hadn't given most of them all that much thought. Given that the world was being decimated by the mother of all fucking viruses, it hadn't seemed all that necessary at the time to worry about the future generation's risk of catching rubella or whooping cough. Now, though, with an actual child shuffling in front of him, looking vulnerable as hell, Marcus almost wished he'd anticipated that. Be a shame for people to lose their babies over shit that was cured generations ago after managing to protect them from the scary new shit that had been unleashed.
"Hey, pequeño," he said by way of amiable greeting to Liam. "Qué onda? What's he into?"