Guts observes patiently, recognizing the gesture even if he didn't do much typing himself. Her communicator. He remembers where the nurse left it last - a little out of reach for the way Saturday was now.

Setting aside the glass, he gets up off the chair to find it and hand it to her.

"This? Want to send out a message?"

Guts spoke as if nothing was wrong with her, as if they were just spending another cold night on the bunk beds. No matter how much it hurt to see her this way, the least he could do is try to provide some sense of normalcy. At least, what was 'normal' on the Rig.