Ellie wasn't unaware of Brennan's pain, or the effort he was putting into what he did; she just knew that her best contribution would be staying silent and moving quickly.
Her own knees were killing her, in a way that seemed to grow strangely distant as they moved -- a real hurt, probably bleeding out steadily, probably ending in scars, but one she seemed to ignore easily.
Danger was a simpler focus. Eloise was good at keeping her head straight when it came to things like that.
When they'd entered the library, though, she let out a breath between her teeth. "Let me take that now," she told Brennan quietly, gathering up the bag.
"Your shoulder looks bad. You need to go get that looked at."
She squinted at the gash, mouth set in a straight line. Eloise was no doctor, but then -- she didn't need to be one when it came to things like this. "The medic's on the ground floor."