Don't panic. A mantra that Pratt would do well to repeat to himself because as he watches Ben move Kieran, and finally acknowledges the full extent of his injury, that panic is welling up in a way that's hard to ignore. He doesn't have anything to do as Ben presses the cloth to the wounds, hovering around awkwardly and feeling useless.
He doesn't want to hold him down, having been tortured himself he knows the thrashing is cathartic, it'll give him something to focus on that isn't the pain. For once he wished the canteen at his side was full of whiskey like it always had been. Drinking for the pain didn't really work, but Pratt would have at least let Kieran try. If it helped even a little it would be worth it.
"Carlisle is on his way. He'll know what to do, he's a healer." Well he had been anyway, Pratt isn't sure if he still can, but at least he'll know better than the two of them what to do in this situation.
He looks up at Ben, ready to pull Kieran's hand away and transfer those digging fingernails onto him instead. They can tag team this until Carlisle arrives.
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He doesn't want to hold him down, having been tortured himself he knows the thrashing is cathartic, it'll give him something to focus on that isn't the pain. For once he wished the canteen at his side was full of whiskey like it always had been. Drinking for the pain didn't really work, but Pratt would have at least let Kieran try. If it helped even a little it would be worth it.
"Carlisle is on his way. He'll know what to do, he's a healer." Well he had been anyway, Pratt isn't sure if he still can, but at least he'll know better than the two of them what to do in this situation.
He looks up at Ben, ready to pull Kieran's hand away and transfer those digging fingernails onto him instead. They can tag team this until Carlisle arrives.