"I'm the wrong kind of Doctor," Crane murmured, and his gaze was unfocused but still staring at Tillman. The soldier was precise and knew how to act under pressure, and Crane's glasses safely in the breast pocket of his shirt.
"But I can make an assessment and my assessment is--yes. I appear to be bleeding." He blinked, long and hard, and then proceeded to look down at his own pale, scrawny chest. Immediately comparing it to Tillman's.
He'd watched.
Long before he'd even considered picking Tillman. When he just knew him as Kable. When word had got out to Gotham about Castle, when he curiously reviewed Slayers footage. It was Tillman's gaze that got him--the unflinching, determined glare he was currently giving Crane himself. No trace of terror, no glimpse of the inner psyche. And that blue, that gorgeous hue of his eyes that Crane had seen in more than just video view...
no subject
"But I can make an assessment and my assessment is--yes. I appear to be bleeding." He blinked, long and hard, and then proceeded to look down at his own pale, scrawny chest. Immediately comparing it to Tillman's.
He'd watched.
Long before he'd even considered picking Tillman. When he just knew him as Kable. When word had got out to Gotham about Castle, when he curiously reviewed Slayers footage. It was Tillman's gaze that got him--the unflinching, determined glare he was currently giving Crane himself. No trace of terror, no glimpse of the inner psyche. And that blue, that gorgeous hue of his eyes that Crane had seen in more than just video view...
"You've passed."