[ Maybe what's going on with his body is like what's happening to hers, sicknesses manifesting in different ways. It's plausible. Enough to make him worry that there isn't anything he can do for her — that worry amplifying that much more when she voices those same doubts. Because Amos knows he can deal with the shit that's happening to him; doesn't like it, but he's managing. He was always meant for the frontline shit. But Lottie...?

He takes his free hand, places it over hers. At least his palms are still mostly skin, something soft and human underneath whatever it is going on. Still him. He's still him, which means she's still her, and...

Seeing her like this, he's not sure if that's a good thing.

His thumb absently swipes over her hand, an attempt at reassurance as he thinks it over. ]

There's gotta be something. There's gotta be...

[ There doesn't have to be; he knows that. More like he wants there to be. Her laboured breathing sends a pang through his heart; it's not the first time he's heard someone he cares about going through something like this, even if the circumstances are completely different now.

Amos takes a quick look around them, already knowing what he's going to find — bark and roots and nothing to really eat or drink, so what... else... ]

Have you been able to get any rest? Sleep? [ It's an earnest question, hoping to find something that'll help her feel better. Stave off her symptoms. ] Maybe if you don't gotta be awake for this it'll be better. I can watch over you while you do.

[ Keep her safe. Give her one less thing to worry about. ]