"I see." He doesn't push the matter of getting John Constantine's shirt off. If he wants to die from something internal rupturing that is his business, and one way or another Doc will come to accept that he doesn't have to feel guilty because of someone else's stubbornness. Maybe it is unkind to be thinking that way, but there is only so much of Doc Holliday to go around. It is arguably better to spend efforts on those who want the help.
"Well perhaps it is best we leave him be." Let's be fair now - he wouldn't call Number Five or John Constantine particularly tactful negotiators. He wouldn't be surprised if the two of them antagonised their new friend. Doc isn't so sure himself if their assailant is the so-called landlord. He could all be stuck here for the same reason, entrapped by the same people for all they know.
Another sweep of the adjacent shelf uncovers some promising-looking tinctures, and Doc abandons their topic of conversation momentarily to swipe a few vials of lavender, pocketing them in his coat.
"Maybe he is simply deathly allergic to assholes," Doc theorises wryly. In which case, none of them would stand any chance of getting close.
no subject
"Well perhaps it is best we leave him be." Let's be fair now - he wouldn't call Number Five or John Constantine particularly tactful negotiators. He wouldn't be surprised if the two of them antagonised their new friend. Doc isn't so sure himself if their assailant is the so-called landlord. He could all be stuck here for the same reason, entrapped by the same people for all they know.
Another sweep of the adjacent shelf uncovers some promising-looking tinctures, and Doc abandons their topic of conversation momentarily to swipe a few vials of lavender, pocketing them in his coat.
"Maybe he is simply deathly allergic to assholes," Doc theorises wryly. In which case, none of them would stand any chance of getting close.