The muffled groans of discomfort stirred him from an unsound sleep. As awareness dawned, he realized his chest felt damp. Doc opened his eyes and looked down to see Kitty still leaning into him, the sweat from her forehead and the blood from her nose having soaked through his shirt. Gently he lay her back down onto the pillows, and Kitty moaned uneasily. Doc reached for the cloth in the basin of water, and grimaced from the protesting stiffness that had settled into his back during the night. Shaking it off, he pressed the wet cloth onto her forehead, holding it there for a minute; then he cleaned the small trickle of blood coming from her nose. His mouth felt overly dry as he reached into his bag to pull out a small bottle of white powder. He mixed it in a glass with some water, and then carefully picked up Kitty's head, touching the glass to her lips. Doc poured a tiny amount of the liquid into her mouth, and instead of swallowing, she sputtered and coughed it back up.
He wiped her lips and chin with a cloth. "I want you to drink a little of this water for me, Kitty."
Gently he lifted her head again, and once more poured a little liquid into her mouth, with no better results. She choked on it, and her eyes shot open in panic. He set the glass down and held her by the arms.
"Take it easy, honey. I'm not gonna let anything happen to ya."
Caring hands gently probed her throat and felt swelling all around the area. With mounting concern, he tilted her head back and looked into her nose, hoping against hope that he would find nothing. But Doc fought off a sudden wave of nausea rising from his belly: the membrane he could see forming in her nasal cavity, along with the bloody discharge still running, confirmed that she was further along in the disease than any of the patients who had survived. Despair filled him, and he experienced a moment of rage that no man should ever know. But in deep contrast to the overpowering emotions that were churning inside him, he softly stroked Kitty's forehead, and kept his timbre low and even."I'm going to have Festus bring me some ice to cool you down, and then you're gonna feel a little bit better." He smiled sweetly at her. "In the meantime, Kitty, I want you to close your eyes and try to sleep for me."
She reached up and grasped the front of his bloody shirt, her voice a bare whisper. "My throat burns like fire, Doc..."He put a strong arm around her back to support her, and reached for the water glass with the dissolved powder with his free hand. He touched it to her lips, and poured a little of it into her mouth, nodding at her. As painful as it was, Kitty eventually swallowed it all. Doc carefully set her back down against the pillows, and tucked her in as if she were a little girl. He leaned over and kissed her beaded forehead.
"I'll be back with some ice before you know it, honey, you just rest for now."
The trust in her eyes as she looked up at him, tore into the guilty fabric of his soul. He forced another smile to his lips, patted her arm, and quickly left the room. He stood on the second floor landing of the Longbranch for a long moment, trembling with fatigue and emotion. He ran a shaky hand over his chin and mustache, and then slowly walked down the staircase. Before he reached the bottom, Doc sat down on the second to last stair, giving in to what he knew he could no longer fight.
And it was there, in the levied silence of the Longbranch, that the raging river of emotion inside of his heart rushed to the surface, ripping the last of his dignity away from him.