Moloch had gotten himself propped against the wall, hand over a nasty gash in his side. He'd been a soldier long enough to know it probably wasn't fatal, unless he couldn't get the bleeding to stop, but it still hurt like the blazes. He looked up when he heard voices and called out, voice rough with pain. "Over here."
Merlin darted forward, kneeling beside him. "Don't move." He ripped a strip off the bottom of his t-shirt and held it against the wound.