[ She'd like to say she's gotten worse reactions to a stethoscope, but most of her patients understand when she needs to listen to their lungs. Of course Tim wouldn't. She rolls her eyes and pulls the stethoscope down to hang around her neck. ]

You have a fever over a hundred degrees, a new scar [ she knows what those look like ], no access to medicine or proper food, and a room that's as likely to give you pneumonia as the children's ward. You're not fine, and you're coming home with me. You can either drink your soup and I'll be your crutch or I will physically pick you up and carry you the whole way and you can have the soup when we get there. Your choice.