Scout frowns as he pushes himself up but doesn't quite get in there in time to keep him from folding over - she catches one of Lambert's horns and manages to prevent him hitting his fool head on the floor, and that will have to do.

Muttering about thugs who don't understand they have limits she gets him, through muscle power and the gentle help of the Force, into a cot and pulls off his footwear. She reinforces the pain block and makes the traditional note to herself that unconscious but without pain he looks uncharacteristically peaceful.

Then she mixes a packet of powder into a big canister of water and sets it on the bedside table so he'll have a sugar-electrolyte solution to drink when he wakes up and leaves, telling herself off for feeling vaguely guilty. He'll be fine. This isn't someone to hover over and worry about. She doesn't have anyone like that anymore, and isn't looking to replace them with him.