Helping Frank into cover, he sat him down and started examining the wound. "By the Gods, they really stuck you good," he commented under his breath, trying to stay quiet. Hovering his hand over the wound, the palm of his hand glowed a soft but bright golden color and he watched as the injury healed over completely, including whatever internal damage Frank was suffering. He'd be sore for a while, but that would fade away. The important part was, he wasn't bleeding anymore and would live to see another day.
He handed Frank the gun he looted off the first thug and the packs of ammunition he collected afterward. "I'm not sure how to work this thing, whatever it is. Didn't want to waste ammo so I used my magic instead. It drains me of my magicka, but that tends to regenerate itself if I give it a few moments," he explained simply. "What I used on you was a healing spell. I've used it on others, too. You should be back to full health, if not a little sore. The magic accelerates your body's healing process and also encourages your body to produce more blood. Whatever you lost getting here should have regenerated. How do you feel? If you spot me for long-distance with that weapon, I can take out the closer ones with this blade and my other attacks. If you heard something like thunder, that was me."
He was now Frank's self-appointed "Shield-Brother" until they were both to safety. "We are trying to get to the Tops, correct?"