He'd been contemplating it previously, but after he spoke with the staff at the hospital, Inaho decided that it was necessary to dismiss Slaine's current physician. Find someone far more suitable would be one of his next tasks. He had no doubt that the report in front of him was largely due to negligence. The doctor was not the only culprit, some of that responsibility remained squarely on Inaho's shoulders, but his internal irritation was not going to keep him from making the proper decision. Inactivity was to blame for the report, both his and the doctor in charge of Slaine's care.

A more assertive doctor seemed like the proper course of action. With the current physician, Inaho had gone out of his way to be accommodating, and to listen to his assessments. He had also not dedicated sufficient time to Slaine's care. Initially, Inaho had only visited once every two weeks, for only thirty minutes per visit. He had left the primary concerns of Slaine's care to both the physician, and the staff. It had seemed at the time that Slaine would be more than capable of handling himself in such a situation. In fact, Inaho could perhaps categorize his lack of investment, in the firmly held belief he'd retained from the war; Slaine Troyard was well capable of handling himself, and his unpredictable nature had continually frustrated Inaho, often leaving him on the receiving end of some rather unsavory situations. It had only been after the attempted suicide -something he had not anticipated- that Inaho had started to take a vested interest in the situation. He should have known better than to leave such a delicate situation in the hands of others, but at the prospect of tending to Slaine, Inaho had found he had very little that he felt he could add to the process.

Now, at the stage where he found himself, Inaho was sure that an assessment of his priorities was in order. He was finding it less difficult than he would have originally thought to make his decisions.

The CT scan had come back negative for signs of cerebral hypoxia, a very good sign. The x-rays had come back with definite visual confirmation of liquid in the lungs. The doctors were assessing it as pneumonia, and said that the diagnosis was rather obvious due to the manner in which Slaine had been breathing. The bronchoscopy -which Slaine's physician had deemed unnecessary, and the doctor in charge of the case had insisted on regardless- showed a slight tracheal fracture. It was small, likely to heal on its own given time, but it was possible it had led to the shortness of breath, and the pneumonia, both of which aggravated the other. Surgery could be performed to repair the tracheal fracture, but Slaine was likely to weak for the procedure. He was malnourished, and in high probability of developing refeeding syndrome. The doctors handling the case had expressed concerns that he had been sedated at all in his state.

The original plan was to only keep Slaine in the military hospital till preliminary tests had been completed, and a plan for follow up care had been drafted. Under advice of the hospital's administration, that plan was being modified. None of the doctors wanted to risk complications of refeeding syndrome; it would only cause difficulties for his already waning health. It stood to reason that it was better to keep Slaine under consistent watch for future issues. Inaho was quick to agree with their assessments. He was also of the opinion that the hospital room was much nicer than the observation room in the complex, and that the large window that let in ample amounts of sunlight and a soft breeze would not be a negative addition unless Slaine somehow decided that jumping was a prerogative. Inaho did not intend on giving him such an opening, even if Slaine somehow found the strength and motivation to do anything other than lay there blank eyed and unresponsive.

In the months where Inaho had spent one thirty minute session with Slaine every two weeks, he had grown accustomed to being ignored. Those had been intentional dismissals, deliberate refusals to interact or show interest in anything mentioned. Slaine had gotten quite good at it over time, but Inaho had been sure that a gradual shift would happen eventually. He had been surprised that the addition of Yuki-nee to the staff had been one of the leading factors.

Slaine's current state of being was not like that at all. It was far worse. Before it had been a deliberate refusal to cooperate. Slaine's interactions now were entirely apathetic, not combative. Lethargy was now the norm, and though he took instructions relatively well, answering questions and eye contact was nonexistent. There was none of the anger that had been reported in Slaine's down time, and none of the hostile glares that Inaho had grown so used to.

Slaine did seem to appreciate that Inaho had him placed in the bed closest to the window. In fact, with the sun shining on him, Slaine almost seemed happier and calmer. It reminded Inaho that Slaine had likely spent a large part of his life stuck in a sophisticated tin can, with only artificial light. It was an obvious thing to think about now, but something he had not considered before.

How exactly did one go about taking away another person's misery? It was certainly hard work making oneself happy, let alone another individual. Inaho had almost always been the master of his own world, in charge of his own emotions and situations. It seemed like a daunting task to simply rid an entirely different being of misery.

As Inaho set the reports aside onto the bedside table, he looked over at Slaine. Sunlight washed over his face, and his alarmingly blank eyes remained closed. His breathing remained stable, and low enough to indicate sleep. Inaho wondered if perhaps the first step to that process, to the unimaginable task of eliminating misery, even for one person, was to be observant. Slaine enjoyed sunlight. A very rational, obvious conclusion, which he had not previously come to. In fact, his initial thought had been that since he had lived so long in space, that he might not need it. He wasn't sure if need was the word for it, but it was certainly something he seemed to enjoy. It was something to note, something that should have been obvious from the onset. Before berating himself any further, Inaho reminds himself that social interactions were not his forte; they were Yuki-nee's. He was going to have to work harder from now on.