I finished with time to spare, what are you complaining about?

[ That kind of levity is really not necessary, Paul. Or maybe it is: he's not genuinely trying to distract from having a wound because he knows it needs tending; he's keeping himself from thinking about the fact he'd just had to kill three living, breathing people. They weren't good people but they were still people. It's just the person in front of him now is more important.

But that's how everyone feels, right? That their own interests are most important. Just how people are.

He's still kind of smiling even as Daryl moves to unzip his vest and work at his shirt and Jesus is about to try and help shrug out of the vest and all but as soon as Daryl presses against the wound he sees stars and has to grip at Daryl's arm with his own good one, exhaling roughly as his head tips forward. ]

Shit, that hurts. [ A grimace , hidden. He pushes forward against Daryl's hand anyway for more pressure as he weathers the pain. ] No, you shouldn't have. It was bound to go bad either way. Let's just take the win.

[ The wound isn't as bad as it could have been: the blood flow is already stopping. ]