[Great. Why do all his injuries leave gross pits of scar tissue?] You're the doctor. You know more about this shit than I do. [He sighs, gritting his teeth as the movement tugs the blood-encrusted shirt away from the bite. Now that the adrenaline is wearing down and he's just... sitting, this shit is starting to hurt. What he wouldn't give for some Tylenol.]
SPAM!