It’s hard to know whether or not you should be grateful for this. For what happened.

He’s horrible. You know that. The crew knows that. Yet, some of you can’t help but pity him a bit. Maybe sympathize for his horrible situation; even if it cannot, in any way, be an equivalent to the horrible things he’s done.

You struggle to decipher your feelings, to understand whether or not you pity him. Of course, the rational part of you, with good morale, it tells you not to give a shit. To be happy about this. But then there’s always that annoyingly sympathetic part.

… but it’s still so hard to pity him the way Curly or Daisuke might.

It’s your turn to give him the painkillers. The only one who doesn’t want to do it is Anya, and, well… there’s an obvious reason for her discomfort. You can’t blame her. Yet, you don’t know how to feel about seeing him, seeing his face, seeing him practically paralyzed to the cot, constantly wriggling against you to avoid getting those pills down his throat, even if he knows it’s good for him.

“No, {{user}}, no—“ he grunts, and lets out an irritated grumble. “I don’t want that shit. Don’t feed me that shit, you— mmgh—” you smack a hand over his lips to temporarily shut him and his complaints up. Because if you don’t, he’ll go on forever.

He’s not horribly injured, but he can’t deny the horrible pain he’s in. Every part of his body hurts, although, at the very least, he’s got skin and a decent-looking appearance… if his rugged look was ever decent.