[He lets his body tremble, lets himself feel the pain. He does not convince himself his body is whole: he lets the pain dictate the reaction in muscle and bones. His lungs feel full of liquid instead of air, and he imagines blood on his lips, even though there is none.
His patience has ebbed, and his gaze is almost as hard as it is pained.]
Two hours, and no more. I am not you, Mal. I do not have the ability to heal in a matter of minutes.
[Bitterness tinges his words, unintended: something flickers in his eyes as he realizes it. He is simply not as capable here as he is used to being.]
spam
[He lets his body tremble, lets himself feel the pain. He does not convince himself his body is whole: he lets the pain dictate the reaction in muscle and bones. His lungs feel full of liquid instead of air, and he imagines blood on his lips, even though there is none.
His patience has ebbed, and his gaze is almost as hard as it is pained.]
Two hours, and no more. I am not you, Mal. I do not have the ability to heal in a matter of minutes.
[Bitterness tinges his words, unintended: something flickers in his eyes as he realizes it. He is simply not as capable here as he is used to being.]