The bracelet's small beads click together when William decides, after a brief flutter about whether or not to wash it too, to wear it instead. It'll be safe there. Won't fall out when he goes scrambling around his pockets in search of more gauze or tape or whatever else he has going on. Realizing she's keeping her voice down, he ducks his head slightly and squares his shoulder up near hers, falls into step. He'll probably go back to his patient once his hands are washed, but until then, it's nice to have a breather.

"It is bloody terrible," he says, after a long moment. "But I think it means you're the right w--person for the job.

"Fucking disaster zone born and bred, eh?" William's cocks a brow, even as he stops just short of body-checking a man bringing in a child with blood smudged all over her forehead. He can't tell if the blood is hers or not. "Was it as big as this, the last cluster you got out of from your Matrix?"