Lachlan nodded once to indicate he heard heard Fiona, and wasn't too stunned to not comprehend what she said.
Taking comfort in the steadying pressure of her hand on his shoulder, Lachlan did not have long to wait before the first bit of shrapnel was removed, then the next in quick succession. He did not cry out, but his jaw clenched as a sharp hiss of pain escaped through his gritted teeth. Dislodging the metal shards seemed to act as a release valve to the feelings Lachlan had been numbed to, driving the numbness away so forcefully that it was as if Fiona had plunged a dagger into his back.
Deeply unpleasant as the sensation might be, the pain was hardly foreign. Lachlan bore it with minimal complaint, especially given how fast Fiona worked. She didn't hesitate to lay her hands over his bloody wounds, and heat soon flowed through him.
As soon as Lachlan felt sure that he could move without passing out, he turned to face Fiona. Deep lines of concern furrowed his brow at the sight of the bloody smear under her nose, and he swiped his thumb over it to clear away the evidence of her exertion.
"I'm fine," he lied, knowing she would be aware that he was not fine, but was as good as they could hope for given the circumstances. He hastily snatched up the scarf and shrapnel from the ground and rose to his feet then, and closed his eyes for only a moment as the world swum in and out of focus. "Come, we must go," he added as he extended a hand to help Fiona to her feet.