lanselos_du_lac

The cut itself is probably deep enough to warrant stitches, but it is clean and healing well so far. (It is still rather painful, but Lancelot is used to ignoring that sort of pain.) He stands still, letting Magnus work.

When the healing happens, it will be apparent to Magnus that the last few days have taken their toll, no matter how Lancelot brushes off any questions of trauma. There are some things that are sharply clear: Magnus himself, with the sword pinning him in a pool of his own blood and covered in bits of glass; Lancelot's singular focus on at least slowing the bleeding, getting Magnus somehow stable; carrying Magnus out into the stinging wind and feeling the shock of cold while brushing off Magnus' comments about said cold; Susan's expression when she opens her door to him, the intensity of relief at seeing her unhurt; his own strange feeling at the continued shivering, the lack of coordination; Susan's care for him, in a fluttering collage of specific moments; and, strangely, the memory of Arthur asking him if he would rather stay, of Arthur holding him more tightly than he ever had before.

The rest is a blurry jumble. He remembers the cold, remembers knowing that he had been out in the weather, half-dressed, for much longer than was wise. He remembers finding Lan Wangji, and Alex's dramatic entrance. He remembers knowing that Magnus was recovering. But much of the rest of that day and the days that followed are hazy thanks to the hypothermia, the fever, the general dissociation of managing a life and death situation while being very much out of practice with encountering grave injury or death.