Zoe hadn't complained as she helped him along; she hadn't said much at all, not even answering the Miranda question. For now, she'd let it be. Just for now. As he sat, she actually looked at the medbay; Wash was right - the doctor wouldn't have stood, sat, or anything else for this. She'd taken only a brief look earlier; the dust quickly filed away with the rest of the odd situation.
"Right." She looked over the place again, quickly walking to one spot but soon turning to walk to another. "Right."
Zoe knew she had to find bandages, and she knew she knew where they were. She knew she had to stop the bleeding, had to get everything cleaned up, had to wrap it up good and tight without cutting off circulation. She knew all this, but her mind had decided to make this the moment to shut down, which only angered her. She had been through worse; she'd climbed over torsos and heads, limbs more than just akimbo. She'd created some of that mess. She'd been shot at, shot, beaten. She'd seen to those just as badly off. She'd done all that, but to see him there, one drop of blood was was one drop too many.
Her brows furrowed; her lips pursed. Anger, pain, loss, love, fear. Her hands lifted, and they were shaking, trying to grab at something anything; but, all she could feel was air and uncertainty. She had fought to get him out of that chair, fought to bring him back - Mal was the only one who could have gotten her off the bridge that day. Now, now, she was looking at the man she'd thought she'd lost forever, and she had no idea how to help him. What if this was all some awful dream..she'd had them before.