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As the tram shudders along the track, taking them further and further underground (and toward the hidden lab that was apparently underneath the city all along), Claire stares at the controls, wishing she could make this thing move faster. They don't have time to waste travelling so slowly. Sherry needs that treatment, and every second counts.
Behind her, poor Sherry lies on a metal bench, groaning and fidgeting in agony as the virus spreads through her body. The mere thought of this innocent little girl being in so much pain makes Claire want to cry, but she holds it all in. Right now, helping Sherry is all that matters. And she can have a massive breakdown about the zombies and death and violence and all the other horrors she's seen later.
"C-Claire..." Sherry groans, snapping Claire out of her thoughts.
Spinning around, Claire hurries back over to Sherry. "I'm here," she says, taking Sherry's hand and squeezing soothingly.
Sherry's hand trembles in her grasp, and it takes Claire a moment to realize why Sherry's hand shakes far more than she did earlier. She's shivering. Tremors run through her body, her teeth beginning to chatter.
"Cold..." Sherry mumbles.
Claire holds back a sigh, wishing she noticed this earlier. "Do you wanna wear my jacket?" she asks, reaching to undo the zip.
"I... I don't wanna... be a bother."
"You're never a bother. Here," Claire says, unzipping her jacket and holding it out, "you need this more than me."
"Thanks, Claire," Sherry says as Claire helps her sit up, keeping a hand on Sherry's back as she wobbles and moans through the pain.
As Sherry tries to pull on the jacket, she fumbles, her hands getting stuck in the arms. She doesn't ask for help, but Claire can tell that she needs assistance.
So, Claire says, "Let me help you with that."
And soon enough, Sherry lies back down with Claire's jacket wrapped around her, keeping her warm.
"Thank you, Claire..."
Claire smiles. "No problem."