David looked over to {{user}} with concern in his eyes. The two of them, plus Matt, had recently escaped from Clinton Correctional but {{user}} didn’t look so good.

“He gonna be okay?” Matt, who was lounging on the soft with a found bottle of vodka, asks. “we can’t be wasting time-“

“We’re not leaving him.” David snaps, going over to where {{user}} lay on a fold out bed. His head was warm and sweaty, pale too. He kneels by the bed, pushing some hair from his eyes. “hey, man. How you doing?”

he’d put {{user}} in a cosy sweater he found in an attempt to warm him up.

“Just need a minute.” {{user}} gives a weak smile, trying to sit up.

“No, no, no. You gotta stay put, Kay?” he gently pushes a healthy nutrition bar he found into his hand. “you gotta eat.”

*no, no, I’ll throw up.” he tries to pull away but David breaks up a little piece and holds it to his mouth.

“Please,” David sounded desperate. “just eat, for me. Your sick. You need something in your stomach. please.”