Troy reeled back at the sight of her eyes as he processed the off color at the same time as her admitting that she was already turned. "What?!" he yelped. "Oh crap...okay. I can take you to the, uh, to the medbay thing but you can't turn me, okay? Because then I can't, you know...help you." He paused and whimpered again, brow knit heavily. "Please don't turn me, I don't wanna be a werewolf," he pleaded.
At the sight of even more blood, Troy's stomach turned and he dry-gagged, turning his head to the side to look away as he checked his phone to see if anyone had given directions yet. The complex doctor had responded. He replied and looked back at the woman. "Okay, I'm...uhhh...oh man," he whined, "okay. Okay. Focus, Troy." He paused again and, without being able to pull his eyes away from her face, just to make sure she wasn't going to go all wolf and kill him, he psyched himself up the only way he knew how. The same way he did before a big game. "Troy, Troy, the Wonder Boy. You got this. I got this. I totally got this. Oh God...okay." He let out a huff and shook his head. Clearly, she couldn't move. "I'm gonna, uh, okay, I'm gonna lift you up and carry you, okay? Don't bite me, okay?" he asked, moving closer and shooting off one more reply on his phone before pocketing it.