Wil collapses onto the bed, gasping for air and his ears ringing from injury. His hand is stifling any excess blood running from his wound on his abdomen. The only way he can see the extent of the damage done is if he were to unbutton his vest and expose the wound to air, but would admit to being a bit of a prude, and was hellishly stubborn. His jaw clenched in pain, and he let out a breathy: "Fuck."

He shuts his eyes in pain, his head tilting back as he suppresses a groan. He rests back onto his elbows, his chest heaving in agony.