[ Algric flinches, but he’s hardly touched; it’s Jon who gets the mess of mashed potatoes and congealed jello. Oh and the pain of a metal tray to the head, but at least she doesn’t have much arm strength. ]

“Just leave. Or I’ll throw something else.”

[ She’s already reaching for the glass of water on her bedside table.

Algric just. Breathes for a moment, breath rattling. ]

Jon, it’s okay. Let’s - let’s just go.