Katara was almost completely unconscious in a cot but the Town Hall's makeshift hospital was ticking over like a well-oiled machine. Even as volunteers and doctors grew more and more tired, their dedication still won out as each patient was tended to carefully.
[OOC: And this is the last hospilinic post! The researchers are very close to a cure
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Eventually she got him upright, propped against her side with one arm wrapped around his shoulders. "You need to wake up. We've got a cure. Please?"
She was really starting to get worried that he was so unresponsive.
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Somehow Isabel doubted he'd be able to manage the mug on his own. "Ready for it?"
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"Here then," she said, holding the cup to his lips. "Take a sip."
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Each swallow seemed to bring with it a certain degree of renewed strength, and soon he'd finished the cup, only to collapse weakly against Isabel, his strength spent. Another coughing fit wracked him, but it seemed already to be less strong than it had been.
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Relieved that it seemed to be working, Isabel gently rested her head against the top of Ronan's and smiled, feeling the tension that had been a constant companion for days slowly start to ease.
"How do you feel?"
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