Aidan found himself yelled at again, reliving the beautiful memories of being in boot camp, with the drill sergeant's voice ripping through his eardrums. He tried to excuse himself and make a promise to be more useful, as if he could talk himself out of a rebuking session; he didn't understand why was she so hellbent over his mistake, after all, he wasn't really part of her team of infantrymen and if he was to die, it wouldn't be her fault. He tried not to look too annoyed in front of the captain and prepared himself for some shaming, but soon, her discourse was interrupted by sudden coughing fit that had her bend over and fight for some fresh air. The doctor, at first, didn't notice the peculiar sound of the cough itself, he allowed the woman a few moments to try to recover from the sudden fit; at first, he blamed it on the coal, dust and anger, thinking that she either choked on her own saliva, or had a sensible respiratory tract. The wet cough continued more than it should have, raising the alarm for the medic, animating him back to life. His first intention was to drag her to safety, so he slid one hand around her shoulders and invited Esailia to move over to a safer spot. With every cough, every attempt of her lungs to catch some fresh air, Aidan became more and more worried; he was waking back up to reality as his mind was racing for a quick fix to at least eliminate the symptom, but along with regaining his full awareness, he started to feel a dull, but large pain in his left arm. Out of the blue, Edward came at him and asked the doctor about his wounded hand, which, surprised the doctor enough for him to stop in his tracks and raise a suspicious eyebrow.

"Excuse me? Your superior is having a coughing fit and it's me you're asking about health?"

Something wasn't right, he felt, but he paid no more attention to twin fox and directed his focus on the feline instead. He knew he had a mask in his kit, but it was for the ventilation balloon, but that didn't mean he couldn't improvise a filter out of some sterile gauze and some alcohol in it, in place of a menthol-based solution to clear her airways. Once the two of them were safe, Aidan placed his weapon aside and let loose of the kit and let it land of the ground, but the left strap managed to jerk his arm which made him jump, curse and suck air in through the crevices of his gritting teeth; the pain certainly felt worse than the last time, feeling as if his muscles just snapped in half and vibrate like a twanging metal string, sending waves of pain down to the tips of his fingers and up straight at the top of his brain. He took a moment to recover from the pain, breathing slowly but heavily in an attempt to regain control over his senses and take care of his patient; it was then when he realized how stupid he was for his move, actually trusting a band of strangers to do no harm. Losing the functionality of his left arm, Aidan clumsily opened the kit with only one hand and rummaged through it until he found some sterile gauze and a bottle of medicinal alcohol. He quickly learnt that he couldn't lift or extend his arm from the elbow, but he could use his palm and fingers to some extent, so long his bicep and triceps remained immobilized; he kept his left arm locked in place and somehow stretched the gauze, then folded it a few times until it was thick enough to form a rudimentary filter. He poured a small amount of alcohol on the side which would face the airways and let the gauze absorb the liquid and once he was satisfied with the spread, Aidan quickly offered it to Esailia, holding the improvised filter himself.

"Easy, easy-" the doctor spoke with a soft tone as he tried to stabilize the captain by forming a shield against the noxious air with the help of his own body's profile. "Spit out whatever's bothering you and breathe slowly."

The sudden emergency nearly made him forget about the tense situation between the members of the Roughriders and the gang of miscreants holed in a barricade at the end of the tunnel, he only managed to throw a glance over his shoulder to make a quick assessment of the situation; that was when he took another look at Edward, which looked more and more anxious for some reason. He left the situation at the hands of the rest of the crew, since he had to treat the leader of it. He yanked the filter away from Esailia to refresh the alcohol in it, managing to catch a glimpse at the evidence of her medical issue she was hiding all this time; in a state of shock, the doctor looked incredulously at the gauze with a nice blotch of rusty blood surrounded by the blue stain left by the medicinal alcohol. He blinked a few times and with this occasion, he also noticed the stain she had on the sleeve of her combat clothing, which looked not too old, maybe a couple of hours or so. What worried him most was that whatever she had in her lungs wasn't caused by the mine's toxic air, since it wouldn't be enough to have anyone cough up blood; it was an old wound, or condition that was left unnoticed. He couldn't believe that it was hidden from him, the medical records stated that she was in good condition. He offered the gauze back and turned his attention to the kit so he could pull out the mask with the balloon and unscrew the two components, clumsily so.

"Ma'am, we need to get out NOW. I cannot leave you with this, we have to evacuate immediately. Leave, I don't know, Nathaniel to take the lead, but YOU have to get out! Here, take the mask and let me carry your gear."

The medic was sure about what he had to do, but, he was unsure of what Esailia and Edward's intentions were. Just becoming aware of the sudden situation change, he took a look over his shoulders and spotted six or seven people dressed up in typical bandit outfits. Enraged, the dog barked at them.

"Ey! Which one of you funny guys shot me, huh? I swear I'll fucking punch you in the fucking throat!"