Legwork – he truly hated it, and with good reason. His right leg seemed to agree entirely, if the searing pain that shot up said limb was anything to go by.
"Ambulance is on its way," a familiar voice made itself heard from somewhere above him. He took a slow breath – in through his nose, out through his mouth – and let his head relax against the makeshift support that was his brother's lap.
If he focused on the unexpectedly gentle fingers that were running through his hair, perhaps he would be able to block out the pain just a little longer.