All the while the doc stapled up Cole, John kept himself firmly in Rosalie's view. He knew, sometimes, that sounds were just as bad as seeing, but it couldn't hurt to make an attempt. He held her hands still, trying to distract her with lame jokes and stupid stories. No wonder he had failed as a father; he sucked at it.
When the doc was finally done, he asked for an update on Rosalie. "She's doin' alright," John replied. "Not a fan of doctoring, though, and I can't say I blame her." He shot her a warm smile. "And I'll get to the wolf in just a minute." Turning back to Rosalie, he patted her knee. "Let's see these legs, sweetheart, just to make sure they're alright. And if they're not," he told her with a conspiratorial wink, "we'll make sure the doctor over there who might be a bit staple gun happy doesn't know right away." Of course, if she didn't like needles and staple guns, she probably wouldn't like a hospital either. But the least he could do was either find something to numb her pain or get some whiskey in her, too, so she just didn't care.
Glancing at the wolf, John beckoned to him. "Wanna come over here so I can see that face?" he asked, pointed to a spot on his left. That way, John would remain between the wolf-man-thing and Rosalie.