TC had been in combat zones before during his time as Peacekeeper. Hell, he'd spent a few months helping sift through the rubble in District Seven and using the bare minimum of medical supplies to treat survivors, following the Capitol bombing. But right now, TC wasn't ashamed to admit they could sure as hell use a medical supply drop right about now; as he made one final round to check on the more critically injured patients before handing off to the only other attending in Terminus, Doctor Leonard McCoy. Picking up a medical chart to make a small note on a patients chart, TC quickly made a note for McCoy before removing his stethoscope and heading toward the opening of the triage tent that had been set up hastily upon arrival.
Pushing back the tent flap, TC blinked owlishly after spending so long in the darker tent, as he took in the activity of the camp.
Rolling his shoulders, the Medic slowly began to head in the general direction of where he had set up a tent to crash in - silently hoping that he hadn't finished that half empty bottle of whisky he had salvaged (though he suspected he had finished it after waking up to the fading screams of a young woman from District Two). The bombing of the Nut had brought with it memories of TC's former life as a Capitol Peacekeeper. And while it hadn't all been bad, these particular memories - of raids and arrests of people TC now suspected had been innocent - weren't the kind of replays TC wished to relive when there were still people who needed treating.
"What I wouldn't give for something stronger than water right now."