Theodore watched her, getting to his feet instinctively as she moved around the room. He didn't notice his feet moving to carry him towards her, but it was only a few strides to reach her by the time he could tell she was out of the vision. He went to her side, hand on her shoulder, murmuring a spell to calm her, and a second to make it easier to breathe. It was the very least he could do.
"It's alright," he said gently. He had no idea what she'd seen, but her health came first. Nothing he did for his father would bring him back, after all. Theodore knew better than most how permanent death was, how final. He spoke only a few words of very basic French, for the purposes of conversing with his patients, but he didn't need to know what she was saying to understand the meaning of it. What she had seen had been awful. He gave her a small smile. "Take your time, you needn't get up just yet. Would you like a pillow for your head?"