"I've been here about six months," Josh informed Nora casually, and helped himself to another scoop of salsa. "Before that I was at the hospital, and I might have been a zombie myself with the amount of sleep I was getting there. Massive sleep deprivation and some malnutrition over the course of a year takes a toll on you, you know? You'd think I'd be used to it, being a med student and all, but...it was a different kind of exhaustion at the hospital. Instead of pouring over my books at three in the morning, I was stitching up five-year-olds and using the incinerator to dispose of decaying, unclaimed bodies." He shrugged, and chewed before deciding he needed another chip. And possibly a drink. Or five. "It gets to you, after a while," Josh grimaced and looked away from Nora, still ashamed of what he had to say next. Of course, he didn't have to tell her anything, but it was nice opening up to someone for a change. "I couldn't take it anymore." He finally said.
Josh held his breath for a beat, unable to look at someone and face the truth of his cowardice so he just stared out the window until he could talk again. "So I left, and I came here. No one asked me any questions; they just cared if I could handle myself and do something useful for the crew." Living in the Dog Park had its own challenges, like literally building some sort of structure to live in, limited medical supplies, and the big guys in the Capitol pretty much constantly out to get you, but that all paled in comparison to the pressure Josh felt in the operating room. Why anyone would want to be a doctor was beyond him. Entirely too much stress.
"So....yeah." Josh interlaced his fingers and finally shifted his gaze from the window to the table, only catching glimpses of Nora's fingers as she snuck more chips from the bag. "I think I have a pretty good claim to being the bad guy after all, even if you did make me cut myself and assault me with a tortilla chip."