To say that Molly felt miserable was an understatement. That she had finally had a shower and a decent meal had made her feel much more human, but she would never forget she wasn't normal, especially at a time like this. Throwing up at the scent of blood and broken bones... Ivan holding her hair back was a comfort she wasn't used to. Usually she had to find a place to wash it after throwing up, and if she was lucky she would have clean hair. Her stomach's convulsions had paused and she took the time to breathe and at least try to answer Ivan through her tears.<br/>"I know..." she hiccuped. "But can't they just...just- I don't know...Do something not so violent?"<br/>She wished she could control this somehow- her mother had been a gentle woman, but she never let anything get the best of her, not even a cold. She always said she had no time to be sick. If only that worked for Molly. She had tried it, but she might as well tell the sun not to rise.<br/>Her hands trailed down to her stomach. She was feeling shaky, but a little better now. She hated the feeling of throwing up, but she did feel better. She leaned back against Ivan, legs folded under her. Her head hurt.<br/><br/>"I think that's all of it..." she sighed. "I feel so nasty right now. It feels like I throw up all the time. This sucks."<br/>The red head wanted to brush her teeth, but she was tired and wanted to sleep. She groaned quietly and closed her eyes. "Thank you for finding me, Ivan." she murmured.