Without either the feeling of anger or desperation to keep him afloat, Alfred was having a hard time mustering the will to so much as hold his head up. The fact that the hospital bed was inclined to a semi-seated position anyway was a godsend, since it allowed him to feel like slightly less of an invalid. He watched Evander sink into the chair Zelda had previously occupied, looking as exhausted as Alfred felt. A part of him felt like Evander shouldn't have looked quite so haggard, given that he wasn't the one who had just weathered a near-death experience, but — well, Evander being Evander, he had probably put just as much mental and emotional energy into worrying in the past twenty minutes as Alfred had trying to keep himself alive all morning.

"The silver lining, if there is one, is that we know what it does now," he pointed out. "So if it were to happen again I could get myself to the hospital before it killed me. You know, probably."