"Do you think he's going to be alright?"
The middle-aged man asked as he once again nervously peeked towards the hospital room.
"Squire," The woman accompanying him sighed heavily. "He's immortal, remember? He's going to be just fine, he just needs to rest. You heard the doctor anyway, he's more in shock and mental pain than a physical one."
"I know Britha, but..." The ginger nervously fidgeted with his fingers. "He's been gone for so long, and you saw the state he was in when we found him. I'm just...worried..."
"I understand, boss, but you're just getting worked up over nothing. I told you-"
"Yes, yes, I know. Abel's immortal and I'm a moron for caring." Squire grumbled.
Britha blinked in surprise before pursing her lips. "Well I never said that."
"Okay, but in my defence," She gestured towards the door to their commander's hospital room. "You're literally worried sick over something that's an equivalent of a few bruises and scratches for an immortal. He's been fucking severed in half before, you think he won't take this?"
"I-" He opened and closed his mouth, trying to come up with a comeback, but only managing to look like a fish with his constant opening and closing of his mouth. "Okay...yeah, you got me there. But I'm still worried. Can you blame me for that? He's been missing for nearly a year. A year, Brit."
"I know, I just worry about you." She crossed her arms. "You've been here non-stop since we found him, when was the last time you ate?"
The black-haired woman sighed heavily. "You know what? Come on, I'm buying you lunch. You need to get your mind off of this situation."
"The world won't collapse on itself if you leave him for a few moments, come on."
The ginger groaned. "Fine, mum."
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