He's awake before she's finished moving and it's the words that make him stop. Because he could make this worse or he could make this better and he's not sure which action causes which effect.
He has to try, though. He can't just let her sit there, terrified. A hand on her knee. "Allison?"
"Something on my leg. To clean it. To burn it." Cauterize the bullet wound. Keep her from bleeding out. "She hit me. When I killed him, she hit me. I didn't fall."
Yeah, well. John's in a bizarrely selfish mood. The world doesn't extend past the room at the moment. "Rainbows. Lemon cake. Ballet." Things Allison likes.
He has to try, though. He can't just let her sit there, terrified. A hand on her knee. "Allison?"
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