Any other night, Lazarus would balk at that fury. The razor-sharp sounds would cut right through his thin frame and leave him hurting and apologizing, but tonight, he thinks he's right. His gut is telling him that if he doesn't do this, she won't let him leave and fix things, and he has to leave and fix things.
The only thing that makes him hesitate is when she slumps in her chair, and he feels a pang of dread. An aneurysm, did she finally pop a blood vessel screaming at something...?
...no, it's just an echo, and one that seems to throw fuel on an already angry fire. He winces, but finishes binding her, doing the best job he can under the constraints of time and stress.
"Please keep her quiet," he beseeches Nathan softly, not having the heart to tape her mouth shut, mumbling that he'll be back and hurriedly leaving the shelter without another word or look.
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The only thing that makes him hesitate is when she slumps in her chair, and he feels a pang of dread. An aneurysm, did she finally pop a blood vessel screaming at something...?
...no, it's just an echo, and one that seems to throw fuel on an already angry fire. He winces, but finishes binding her, doing the best job he can under the constraints of time and stress.
"Please keep her quiet," he beseeches Nathan softly, not having the heart to tape her mouth shut, mumbling that he'll be back and hurriedly leaving the shelter without another word or look.