Possession. Having someone else, something else inside your head trying to call the shots. Steve's blood simmers at the similarities to the plights of other friends he's done this for over the years. He nods, shoulders squared. Accepts the medicine when Isidor offers it in one hand.

The time of day doesn't matter in this place here the curtains are drawn and the lights turned on. Their artificial light keeping any shadows that are present minimal and constant, unlike those cast by the moving sun. Still, Steve thinks carefully to the techniques he knows and finds his chest tight when he tries to come up with something to say.

He doesn't want to spout false platitudes. Not to Viatorus. Not to a man who's lived through this before and who knows it's not alright.

"Sun's getting real low, Viatorus. You need to rest soon. Please let me help you do that, before you hurt yourself. None of us want you to have a seizure, least of all you. I know that. Let me help? I'll stay with you if you want. If you need someone to keep watch I can do that. But you have to rest."

Steve holds out his left hand toward his friend, still curled shut to keep the pills from dropping to the floor.