Tristan: "James, where is she? Is she ok?"
James: "Come on, you don't want to go down there."
Markus: "They're not letting anyone see her right now. Why don't we all go out in the waiting room?"

Tristan: "I don't want to go back into the waiting room, I want someone to tell me what the fuck is going on!"
James: "Try to calm down, ok?"
Tristan: "Calm down?! How am I supposed to calm down when no one will tell me a god-damned thing about what happened?!"
Markus: "Let's get out of the middle of the hallway and we'll explain what we know."

Tristan flinched from Markus' touch as he tried to get him to move to another area of the hall. He followed them, but with a looming anxiousness. Only one thing was going to ease the pain he was feeling, and no amount of gentle coaxing or quiet reassurance was going to help.

Tristan: "What--"
James: "She cut her wrists, both of them. There's been a lot of blood loss."
Markus: "The doctors are doing all they can for her. The only thing we can do now is wait."
Tristan: "Oh god… how? Why?"
Markus: "We don't really know much yet."

James: "We should probably go back out to the waiting room. It won't do Emily any good if we get kicked out of the hospital."

This time when Markus reached out to guide him, Tristan offered no resistance. His mind was ablaze with searing anger, confusion, and guilt, all blending together in a single mass of anguish.