"WHAT?!" Everto was by Marine's beside again, having apparently teleported there. His eyes shone with the fire, white-hot flames dancing, obliterating any emotion that one might have seen in his eyes. It was a mark of just how angry he felt, that, despite his efforts, the fire was still showing. He was dangerously near to losing control, just as he had so many times. "How can you do nothing?! You're doctors, for crying out loud! You're supposed to know how to heal people!" Everto couldn't accept that there was nothing to be done, he wouldn't. Doctors were supposed to be smart, good, people who stopped death and made everything alright! Weren't they?
Sinking into a chair beside the bed, Everto once more grasped Marine's hand in his own. The anger he felt had warmed his own flesh enough for him to realise just how cold she was. Looking down at her pale hand, he felt the anger abate, slightly. The fire in his eyes died, replaced by a sort of weary defeat. It was his fault, and he had no right to be angry at what he had done. His fault. My fault. The words spun through his head, over and over, until he was almost dizzy. Blinking, he brought himself back to the present. Softly whispering to Marine, he could still feel the doctor's eyes drilling the back of his head.
"Sorry." It was a single word, softly repeated to her, over and over. Everto could hardly bear to see her this way, and yet he didn't have the courage to leave her. Then an idea came to him. Not moving from his place, he looked up at the doctor. "You said she'd lost a lot of blood, yes? Well then, have you even considered trying a blood transfusion? I know she'll probably bleed it out again, but a few should keep her going until the wound closes over, which it will eventually." He wouldn't even hear of what would happen if it didn't. A transfusion should, anyway, give her the strength to return to consciousness. Hopefully. She would no soubt need to remain on a drip for a few days even after she woke, but it was worth a try.
