Oh uh okay: the way he props her puts her arms dangling over Abby's shoulders in a loose hug, her head tipping to one side. Abby cranes her neck automatically in the other direction, she doesn't want to get any nose blood on her. Some has just run down over her upper lip, which is disgusting, face scrunching at the slippery hot feeling. Congeal, damnit.

She mops up quick with her arm then stands, pulling Clarisse up with her — like wearing a backpack on your front, if the backpack were a girl.

Squints.

"S'there another room with a door that locks?" For Barrow. The uhhh, the one with the door now missing is probably not gonna do it. And she doesn't want to lock the entire infirmary up behind her.