Jack pulls away and everything about him is suddenly prickly, and Eliot feels a lurch of discomfort. He’s crossed a boundary; they don’t know each other like that, or perhaps Jack just doesn’t like to be touched. So Eliot lowers his hand and frowns. At least he doesn’t seem to have a fever.
“Not that you know of.” Eliot knows he’s mostly angry with himself for failing to consider something as important as modern medicine, but he shouldn’t snap at Jack for not knowing about it. He sighs, feeling ragged and tired. “Look, there’s been a number of advancements in healthcare since your time, you don’t have to--to put up with something like that. You’ve likely got germs under the stitches, and--” He stops talking for a moment, horrified by the sudden certainty that Jack isn’t even aware of germ theory. So many things were after his time, it’s a wonder he’s even alive. He should see a doctor, surely the medical facilites in Darrow wouldn’t bat an eye at the host of weird shit people come in with. But Eliot’s probably already pushed his luck this afternoon, and he doesn’t want Jack to be frustrated with his meddling.
“In any case,” he says after taking a breath to try and calm his tone, “Once we’re finished here we can find a pharmacy and get some things to help keep it clean and...help with the pain, at the very least?”
no subject
Jack pulls away and everything about him is suddenly prickly, and Eliot feels a lurch of discomfort. He’s crossed a boundary; they don’t know each other like that, or perhaps Jack just doesn’t like to be touched. So Eliot lowers his hand and frowns. At least he doesn’t seem to have a fever.
“Not that you know of.” Eliot knows he’s mostly angry with himself for failing to consider something as important as modern medicine, but he shouldn’t snap at Jack for not knowing about it. He sighs, feeling ragged and tired. “Look, there’s been a number of advancements in healthcare since your time, you don’t have to--to put up with something like that. You’ve likely got germs under the stitches, and--” He stops talking for a moment, horrified by the sudden certainty that Jack isn’t even aware of germ theory. So many things were after his time, it’s a wonder he’s even alive. He should see a doctor, surely the medical facilites in Darrow wouldn’t bat an eye at the host of weird shit people come in with. But Eliot’s probably already pushed his luck this afternoon, and he doesn’t want Jack to be frustrated with his meddling.
“In any case,” he says after taking a breath to try and calm his tone, “Once we’re finished here we can find a pharmacy and get some things to help keep it clean and...help with the pain, at the very least?”