What

Left to go his own way, Mick quietly returns to the dining hall, slipping back down beside Rosetta. He was thankful that BJ was visiting Clint and Wendy's table at the moment. "Jeff's not doing well," he mentions quietly to his wife. "Angel's trying to work with him but he's being incredibly stubborn all of a sudden." 

Taking a bite of food, he picks up where he'd left off earlier. "There's something really bothering him but I can't figure out what it is." 

Jeff remains quiet, not responding to Katie. He understood. And he did see. He just didn't care. He'd been sick almost all of his life. And he was tired of it. When he was young and in his prime, he'd constantly been battling sicknesses that no doctors could figure out. In and out of the hospital, he'd seen enough white walls and polished floors to last him an eternity. Oh there had been times that he'd felt well and it would seem he was on the mend. Then it would just all come back again, putting him back in bed. Finally, finally they had solved the mystery not all that long ago, discovering that it was all Agency related to begin with. Then he'd been well again, only to come crashing back down harder than ever before. And now... as a result... he was weakened for the rest of his life. That was it. There was no getting well. There was no cure. There was no hope of him getting over it. His heart was weak. His immune system was shot. A cold could put him in the hospital if he wasn't careful. A cut could cause him to bleed to death. And he was tired of it. 

Studying Katie for a long moment, the corner of his mouth turns up a little. "You look so much like your mother today," he muses quietly. And his eyes glisten as his heart hurts. Most days the past didn't get to him anymore. Then on days like today, he missed Katie's mother so much. He'd had her for such a very short time. It just wasn't fair. 

Before he can say any more, Angel has returned, and he clams up, shifting his eyes over to her. Another medicine? He quirks one eyebrow. The only thing he was on now was blood thinner to avoid a heart attack. He should be on all sorts of other things, but his diet would have to control most of it since so many medications made him even sicker. But even so, one medication was bad enough to him, and the last attempt to help his anxiety had failed. Now what? 

Letting go of Katie's hand, he pulls himself up a little on the bed, knowing he wouldn't be getting away with not eating. "Another medicine to help what?" he questions. "What are you talking about?"