As they walk from the beach to the ship, Rosie stays where Jamie can see her whenever she can, her presence the only thing she knows she can give him at this point. It gets harder to do once they're onboard, in the narrow stairs and corridors of the spaces below deck, but she sticks close to Will, following behind him until they're at the infirmary and Jamie's laid down on one of the cots. He looks so young and lost--but then again, they both are.

Will glances at them both before he leaves, and Rosie meets his eye. "Thank you," she murmurs, her voice wobbling even on those two short words. He nods once, then turns away.

She doesn't know what she expected Jamie to say, how she'd thought the doctor might repair what's been done to him, but the thought of cauterization makes her stomach twist horribly once more. She's not going to be sick. She refuses to be, when Jamie needs her. "I'll stay while he cleans it," she says, coming around to stand by his head, close enough that he doesn't have to strain to see her. "And...and after that's done, I'll be right outside the door. No further than that, I promise."

A better friend, a stronger friend, might have stayed for it all. Rosie doesn't let herself think about that.