Marlene's brain tugged at the name Bones. She knew the Bones, she'd always known the Bones. Or it seemed that way, in particular with Amelia. She sat with Ernie's help, her sides finally starting to actually hurt. The adrenaline and the denial of her wounds was catching up with her, and she was having trouble assessing her own damage. She supposed that was the point of a healer: to deal with your hurts for you, because you couldn't rightly deal with them yourself.
The rib and the other wounds would be easy enough. A few days of rest. The arms were another story, but that was not a pressing concern right then. "Edgar," she said, not trying to ask a question or calling his attention, but showing that yes- she knew him. She knew this man. And that settled her the way that only a potion could have otherwise. "He says he's not a death eater," she said, jerking her head towards Ernie.