Castor didn’t go running across the narrow room, diving to the floor in order to save the man’s life; it really wasn’t needed despite any alarm that the Doctor might have felt. His body was feeling the effects of ‘sludge’ by the sounds of it, an unhappy side-effect when you were dormant longer than your body particularly cared for. Civilians went through this fairly often, but if left untreated it could have nasty results; such as paralyzing the diaphragm that would lead to no longer breathing. Bloated corpses all around. Blair crossed the room with wide steps, kneeling down next to August with a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She even blessed him with one of her crooked smiles.<br/><br/>“You’re the Doctor, I’m just the medic.” Calm and reassuring, her voice offered something for the man to focus on between heaves while she pulled out a metal tool that looked similar to a small pistol. Instead of loading it with bullets, she pulled a thin glass vial from a strap on her forearm, and locked it into place. A small hiss of gas being released caused the contents to swirl and bubble inside, changing from clear to a toxic looking blue. She pressed the tip against the side of his neck, delivering a quick prickle of pain, followed by a cool rush as the fluids hit his blood stream. “I had the sludge once; used to get it all the fuckin’ time. You’ll feel like you’ve had the best abdominal workout of your life come tomorrow. Just remember to brush your teeth; otherwise you’ll get a funk that’ll turn a rat away.”<br/><br/>The reassuring hand on his shoulder shifted, moving to the side of his face while she continued to crouch there, waiting for the last of the nausea to pass. Blair proceeded to pull out a thin pen-light, checking the dilation of his pupils. “It’ll get easier to breathe in a moment. See now? You don’t need a Doc, you’ve got me around. I'm lucky."