Somehow, Alfred had expected that, and he sighs slightly, lifting his hands shakily to press against his ears, eyes squeezing shut for a moment, as if he could shut everything out.
The soldier is leaning down, now, dabbing at the cuts on his torso - he's slimmer than most soldiers, he hasn't built up the muscle most do in basic training because he's still new to it, new to this whole war business. But this is what he chose, and he opens his eyes after a moment.
"I'll make do with some cotton, then." he says, quietly, calmer now, though he's still shaking, hissing softly at each dab of medical supplies on his wounded skin. Another shaky breath, and he's got it mostly under control.
"You're...Barrow. A medic?"
No one's told him, but he can hear it, can hear someone outside talking about it. About him.
no subject
The soldier is leaning down, now, dabbing at the cuts on his torso - he's slimmer than most soldiers, he hasn't built up the muscle most do in basic training because he's still new to it, new to this whole war business. But this is what he chose, and he opens his eyes after a moment.
"I'll make do with some cotton, then." he says, quietly, calmer now, though he's still shaking, hissing softly at each dab of medical supplies on his wounded skin. Another shaky breath, and he's got it mostly under control.
"You're...Barrow. A medic?"
No one's told him, but he can hear it, can hear someone outside talking about it. About him.