Peter was still awake, more through force of will than anything else. "Think I'll make it," he said weakly, almost a whisper. He smiled, though, and that would hopefully convey that he really did think he would. He just needed a transfusion and he'd be fine.

And he really should try to stay awake. "What's your name?" he asked. It wasn't the best small talk he could make in the world, but talking helped keep him focused. So questions it was.