He took a seat next to her, somewhat dead-eyed. Before calling Nate he'd healed his wounds; Nate would have been upset otherwise and Anders could at least keep himself together enough for that. But that doesn't mean he takes the seat gracefully. He's exhausted. They all are.

"I heard you had alcohol." And she's her, too. A friend. He needs that right now, and he thinks it's likely she does too. They'd both tried so hard for the boy and it hadn't paid off, and no matter how many times it happens, losing a patient never gets easier.