[Okay, the cup and the pitcher he both catches, but the pillow hits him square in the face. The IV stand he wards off with one raised forearm, and it clatters to the floor. The bag of saline is torn open in the scuffle and it bleeds all over the floor like an arterial wound.
And Bruce is just-- standing there. Awkwardly holding the cup, the pitcher (the pillow now, tucked under one arm) in his dressage uniform, half-soaked in saline. His eyes are dark.]
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And Bruce is just-- standing there. Awkwardly holding the cup, the pitcher (the pillow now, tucked under one arm) in his dressage uniform, half-soaked in saline. His eyes are dark.]