It took a second glance, having looked up to see something entirely different, to notice the old man. Nadir snapped at him when he pulled the makeshift bandage too tight. "What- hey, hey!" he called out, hand on Nadir's shoulder, first for assurance and second for stability as he pushed back up to his feet, sneakers slipping on the icy floor. Nadir turned as well, confused at the suddenness of Ezra's move.

"Hey, old man- oh God," he muttered, hands hovering over the man's shoulders. Blood first, but as his hands reached out he noticed what they lingered over. Pauldrons? "H-hey," he mumbled, not sure of what he was seeing.

"What is it?" Nadir struggled to say. He crouched down next to Ezra, then swore sharply.

"Don't say that."

"His sword-"

"I said don't say that!" Ezra snapped, pressing his lips together. He didn't want to look at it. He already knew what it was.

Nadir made a sound, then a sign, falling silent. For a moment neither of them heard what was going on outside. Then Nadir shifted, taking his knife out of his boot. Every physical effort was dragging him down now, but he forced himself through the sluggishness.

"What are you doing?" Ezra hissed. Nadir ignored him. "Take his mail off. We need to cut in."

"Wha- no, no, fuck you!"

"What other answer have you got, Amos?" the spellsword said angrily. "Mail off. Before someone else finds him! X-Dav already has agents here."

Stunned, Ezra moved to comply. He watched in surreal slow motion as Nadir took his gloves off with visible effort, before pressing his hand to the man's abdomen. "...sorry about this," he murmured, then dug in.

It took a moment. Finally, Ezra took over himself, numb to what he was doing. "What am I looking for?" he asked.

"Colon."

"Right. Of course." Part of him was at least glad the man was so warm on the inside. He found himself giggling when he thought suddenly of Star Wars.