Isam seemed to be in a daze when the man came back out. He blankly stared off across the river, even as the man sat down next to him and began to bandage his wound. The blood had seeped down his neck and was soaking onto his left shoulder, staining his shirt. He'd have to wash that later. Isam didn't even flinch when the man applied the alcohol pads to his wound. He only seemed to snap back to reality when Ulysses introduced himself. Strange name; Isam was sure he'd heard it before. His head lolled to the side to look at the man, his eyelids drooping. 
"Isam," He said, leaning over to shake the man's hand with his clean, right hand. 

Isam then grabbed onto the boat's railing and began to slowly pull himself up. His wobbled, then grabbed onto Ulysses's shoulder for support. "Can you help me get to my bed?" He asked. It seemed to be the least the man could do, since this whole thing was entirely his fault. Or at least that was how Isam saw it. He depended heavily on the man's help as he stumbled over to the hatch, and getting him down the ladder was no easy feat. Once inside, Isam could use the narrow hallway to hold himself up. He got to his little nest in the back and sat down on the edge of the bed. He reached into a cardboard box that sat nearby and pulled out a clean shirt to change into.

Isam pulled his bloody, long-sleeved t-shirt off over his head and tossed it aside, not too concerned with neatness. His skin underneath his clothing was nothing short of horrific: dark red bruises that refused to heal littered his body. His arms were covered in ugly red dots, like some kind of bizarre rash, and the old scars left over from years of war didn't do anything for him. Isam pulled the clean shirt on quickly, not wanting to see his own body. The worse it got, the more hope he lost. 

Isam pushed his boots off his feet one at a time, then drew his legs up onto his bed. He laid down on his side, not caring if he made himself vulnerable to his new company or not. What did it matter if the man killed him? He was dying anyway. All Isam was concerned with was sleep; he really wanted to sleep. He just wanted to laid there and sleep for a very long time.