Steve's probably lying -- there's no way even a super soldier could make it through that crash unscathed -- but Stephen can't see any blood, and he's moving fine, so it's safe to assume Steve's mostly okay. Probably. Stephen will still insist on checking him over later.
The Captain's offered hands are a relief, and Stephen guides him to put his hands over the makeshift staunch. "Here. Keep pressure on it for the next few minutes." Stephen's sure Steve knows how to staunch a wound, but he's so used to giving medical instruction that he can't help himself.
When was the last time he was in a medical triage situation like this? There was that pile-up six months before his own accident-- the Chitauri invasion before that, and the less said about that, the better-- and it's not nice to be back on familiar grounds, but at least he knows what to do.
"Given that I have no idea if external medical help is even available here," Stephen says, a wry little quirk curled at the corner of his lips, "I think I'll have to rely on what resources I have available. Namely, you. I can't stitch my own shoulder." Once, he would have been able to. Now he can barely grasp a needle with his damaged fingers, let alone sew steadily. "It'll only take a moment, Captain. And then I can see to the other passengers, and... perhaps you can figure out where the hell we are."
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The Captain's offered hands are a relief, and Stephen guides him to put his hands over the makeshift staunch. "Here. Keep pressure on it for the next few minutes." Stephen's sure Steve knows how to staunch a wound, but he's so used to giving medical instruction that he can't help himself.
When was the last time he was in a medical triage situation like this? There was that pile-up six months before his own accident-- the Chitauri invasion before that, and the less said about that, the better-- and it's not nice to be back on familiar grounds, but at least he knows what to do.
"Given that I have no idea if external medical help is even available here," Stephen says, a wry little quirk curled at the corner of his lips, "I think I'll have to rely on what resources I have available. Namely, you. I can't stitch my own shoulder." Once, he would have been able to. Now he can barely grasp a needle with his damaged fingers, let alone sew steadily. "It'll only take a moment, Captain. And then I can see to the other passengers, and... perhaps you can figure out where the hell we are."