those moments in the woods

LOCKE

He doesn't say much, carefully taking her hands and undoing the wrappings. He looks them over with one hand while he digs around in her bag for bandages. For as expressionless as he seems, he's deep in his head, trying to sort things out. Maeve, Aidon, Seren, all of it. Mostly Maeve though. She seems in such good spirits despite the tumbleweed so he's finding it hard to be too upset. Maybe they're both a little reckless. It's fine.

He presses light kisses to her palms before he starts cleaning her hands. He's slow, taking his time to make sure it's done properly. It's like when she did his hands but not quite. There is no brewing angst, no bone deep realization of death. But he's quiet nonetheless. No, there's something else brewing in the pit of his stomach. He just has things to take care of first.

Once he's done wrapping her hands, he crawls down to her ankle, propping it up on his thigh as he pushes her clothes out of the way and plucks off her boot. "Give me the wrap." As almost stern as his voice sounds, his fingers trail gently along the sprain, pressing ever so lightly. It doesn't feel broken as far as he can tell but he's not trained in medicine. The fact that she can walk on it is promising though.

Callin' it quits now
baby, I'm a wreck