Crow nodded when Penelope kissed him and said they would be right back. “Well, I guess I’ll wait for you here then,” he joked with a one-shouldered shrug. Despite the pain from the dagger in his chest, he managed to keep a somewhat light spirit about the situation. It helped that even though the blade was uncomfortable, he didn’t feel like he was in any immediate danger from it. His heart wasn’t racing anymore and he could still breathe without too much trouble. It was strange how anticlimactic it was to be stabbed in the chest. He would have thought there would be more blood and screaming, but instead it was almost as if he had just received a cut.

[i]Then again, we haven’t tried to remove the blade yet,[/i] he thought with a nervous shudder. Arrows were painful enough to pull out. He couldn’t imagine what it was going to feel like to remove an entire dagger. Suddenly, he wasn’t quite so enthusiastic about taking the blade out of his side.

While Penelope and William went to the market to get the supplies they needed, Crow passed the time by dozing against the tree. He covered the dagger up with his cloak again so he could relax without worrying about drawing attention to himself. Fortunately, his rest was uneventful and he even managed to drift into a light sleep until the knights returned.

When he eventually heard approaching footsteps, the thief blinked his eyes open and stretched, wincing as the motion caused the dagger in his chest to shift slightly. After his nap, he had almost forgotten it was there, so the pain was an unpleasant reminder.

He looked up at the knights as they briefly discussed who would treat his wound and was surprised to hear William insist on doing it, himself. He would have thought the stubborn old knight would jump at the chance to let his comrade take over the healing of a criminal. Although, if William truly did have more knowledge about dealing with injuries like these, Crow would have preferred to have him treat the wound anyway. He loved Penelope, but he wanted to have the blade removed in the least painful way possible, and if the older knight was better at that, then of course he should be the one to do it.

“First thing’s first,” William grunted as he crouched down beside the thief. “Drink up.” He offered a rather large flask of ale that he and Penelope had bought at the market.

“Um, thanks, but I’m not really fond of getting drunk,” Crow shifted his weight warily, naturally swinging towards suspicion. He knew William was planning to treat his wound, but he didn’t see why alcohol was going to help anything, and he didn’t like the idea of being inebriated around a knight he didn’t trust.

“Well, you’re going to make an exception this time,” William grumbled impatiently as he shoved the flask into the thief’s hands. “Trust me, you’re not going to want to get through this sober. Now, drink that whole thing, or, so help me, I’m going to make you.”

Crow looked down at the flask and grimaced. He still didn’t feel comfortable with the idea, but he disliked the thought of William forcing him to drink even more. “Fine,” he sighed. Casting a quick glance towards Penelope for reassurance, he brought the bottle to his lips and downed its contents. The drink was strong. It burned his throat on the way down and made him feel warm almost immediately. Once he finished off the flask, he set it aside and turned back to William, trying to fight back against the fuzzy feeling in his mind. “Now what?” he asked a bit gruffly.

“Sit up straight against that tree,” William instructed. He waited for the thief to comply before going on. “I’m going to pull out the dagger first. It’s going to hurt, so bite down on this.” He held up a thick piece of bark that had fallen from the tree and gave it to Crow. “It will help you bear the pain and muffle your screams, since we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

“’S it really that bad?” Crow slurred slightly with a frown, leaning away from the knight. “On second thought, ‘m fine. We should just leave it in.”

“Only if you want to die of infection,” William snorted unsympathetically. “Hurry up and brace yourself. The sooner you do, the sooner this will all be over.”

Crow hesitated for a moment before he gave a reluctant nod. He took the bark between his teeth and subconsciously reached to hold Penelope’s hand, seeking comfort in her touch. Once he was ready, he turned back to William and nodded again.

The knight returned the gesture before going on, “I’m going to count down from three and then remove the dagger. Understand?”

Crow nodded once more and closed his eyes, bracing himself for what was to come.

“Three,” William took the hilt of the dagger in his hand. “Two,” he grasped it firmly and braced his other hand against the thief’s shoulder. “One!” In one sharp movement, he ripped the blade from Crow’s chest. The thief let out a wail of pain that was stifled by the bark he was biting down on and squeezed Penelope’s hand tightly. Even though he was under the numbing influence of the alcohol he had drank, the searing pain still nearly made him black out for a moment. With the dagger gone, the feeling continued to resonate in his chest as the open wound began to bleed freely.

Fortunately for him, it seemed that William really was skilled at dealing with wounds like these. The knight worked calmly and swiftly as he lifted Crow’s shirt away from the cut and used the catgut and needle to suture the injury closed. Checking over his work once he was finished, William reached for the bandages and wrapped them around the thief’s chest to cover up the stab wound.

“There,” the knight said, seeming satisfied. He let Crow’s shirt drop back down over the bandages. “That should hold until it can heal on its own.”

“Thanks,” Crow panted a bit lightheadedly, opening his eyes again to meet the knight’s gaze.

William just grunted in response and stood up, turning to Penelope. “After we take care of our injuries, we need to keep moving to find a place to stay tonight. One of those bastards is still out there, and I’m not about to give him the satisfaction of catching us while we’re still licking our wounds.” With that, he took some bandaging and moved to sit down a little farther away as he dressed his own injuries.