She blamed herself, and he blamed himself. If he was more on point, he'd of been able to spot the knife thrower sooner, and stopped it from happening. This only proved he had gotten soft since being dead.
Though being safe, and her phasing the knife from his back was exactly that, very strange feeling. His eye twitched lightly, but the moment the stabbing pain disappeared into just simple dull ache, he sighed happily.
"I got stuff." He looked over his shoulder to her with a coy smile. "Have you met me? I get in too much trouble not to have first aid." With that said, he pulled his shirt off his body the blood oozing much more freely down his back. But he was back quick enough with a jug of water, first aid, and a sewing kit. Setting it down on the small table in the kitchen he looked to her.
"You sure you're good to do this?" But John didn't wait for Kitty's answer as he sat backwards on a chair with the wound facing her. "Just don't stab me too much in the process.