Dicen's brow knitted together in concern. His mouth fell agape as he searched for words. He finally settled on, "I see. I can't imagine how frightening that must have been." So his brothers were dead, then, or else a threat. Pulling the blanket tighter around himself, Dicen sank back into the cushions of the sofa. Or at least, as far as the unforgiving pillow-shaped bricks would allow him to go. His eyes trained on the shattered glass, in the pane and on the floor, and he wasn't dumb to the disorganized and irregular sleeping quarters. These people were hiding, from people like him.<br/><br/>Water bottles sat on the floor near the sofa. There weren't many of them, but there were still multiple of them. He jerked his chin toward them. "Can I have one?" he asked. He leaned down as he asked about them, overly eager at the prospect of water. It felt as though he were dying of dehydration. The cap made a satisfying noise as he broke the seal, and the water came as a rush of relief. The sound of the door opening caught him off guard, though, and he coughed to catch his breath again. It was the doctor, and there was someone else with him.<br/><br/>"Oh my god," the brunette at the doctor's arm whispered. The hand that wasn't guiding was supporting what Dicen recognized to be a few of the doctor's medical kits. He nervously took another drink of water and looked at the floor.