"What the hell." He shouldn't. There's personal space and PTSD and reflexes and habits and reactions but the sheer mess of David's skin has him stepping forward, fingers slipping out to glide along the line of- a graze? A knifewound? What the hell.
He'd spent the least amount of time in Medical during the project and yeah, he'd thought the kid was dead. But this?
no subject
He'd spent the least amount of time in Medical during the project and yeah, he'd thought the kid was dead. But this?
"What the hell happened to you?"