"Water?" Meredith asks, but it isn't really a question. He needs fluids, not alcohol, at this juncture, even if he didn't have this particular set of injuries (as if she needs another reason to keep an eye on him). "I'll be right back." Touching his arm, she gets to her feet and heads off. Even with the crowds and the pain in her leg, she makes quick work of it, returning a minute or two later and sitting on his bed again. The relief that comes with being able to do anything at all almost makes her feel even worse as she hands the glass to him.