She doesn’t sound alright. At least he thinks she doesn’t. It’s hard to tell, hard to focus.

As she leads him toward his room, crew move to get the doors, giving them space other than to tell Aerith if she needs anything anything to use Balthier’s comm or come find them.

He’s only hazily aware of it, trying to stay upright. “Bench,” he rasps as they get inside. When she steers him to it, he all but collapses, trying to get his best off but fumbling. He just wants the blood off before he lays down.

His stomach tightens. There’s a lot of blood.