"I don't know how," Mark blurts out, and it's not her snapping at him that throws Mark off so much as the sight of her in so much pain, and the knowledge that she wants this kid to come out sound, healthy, intact, and that might end up being a huge problem if the kid's made to stay inside her longer than he's supposed to. But, quite frankly, that still doesn't help Mark figure out what he's meant to do in a situation like this, and he blinks, only acting on instinct as he does his best to help her up. In the back of his mind, vaguely he wonders if this would be easier were he someone who rowed crew. Someone capable of holding her weight up.
Jesus Christ.
"Okay, tell me, you must have practiced with your— the father," Mark frowns. "What do I need to do?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-04-18 12:48 am (UTC)Jesus Christ.
"Okay, tell me, you must have practiced with your— the father," Mark frowns. "What do I need to do?"