"Wait, hold on," Larry said, rearing back as he afforded Danny a more critical, concerned once-over. "I didn't think you were seriously shot, like— More than a Band-Aid shot. No offense to your prowess with first aid, but if we're talking actual bullet wound here, maybe we oughta let somebody more qualified take a look at it."

A little twinge of guilt wrapped in anxiety pressed against Larry's chest, told him in a low whisper that if something bad happened to this guy, it was his fault. The comfort of a familiar face could make a guy do reckless shit, right? He should have paid closer attention.