He stays where he's put, staring at his right hand where it rests palm-up on his knee. It's shaking, muscles in his fingers and wrist twitching loosely. Absently, he remembers what Malcolm said about his own tremor, about how it went away but then came back and stuck around. He clenches his hand into a fist and pretends he can't feel the muscles still twitching.

When Daisy sits down again, it's like he's realizing she's there for the first time. His unclench hand goes to her cheek. She looks so ashen in the redness of the world around them. "You--" His stomach turns over. "Oh, no. No, no."

He struggles to breathe deeply, to follow that instruction. "You shouldn't have to be here."