Talking was keeping Damon from feeling all the attention that Alex was giving him cleaning out the wounds. His dream self could do that himself, but the real side didn't quite work the same. Even though he would be right as rain if he was left to just drink the blood. He just liked being worked on. "Nope. The evacuation at Dunkirk was before the US got involved." He did say he used to teach history.
The injury to his back was more substantial than it seemed. The gash was a good six inches long, and about two inches to the left of his spine. He had cracked ribs in the first round, but the blood delivery had healed it. Now it was just a rather large, deep wound, and it fucking hurt. His mouth was moving because the pain was keeping him quite alert.
"I'm gonna be fine. It just needs some cleaning." Probably stitches, but he wasn't going to say it. "I took out like five of those things. I would have been fucked if there was more than one." Enzo and Tyler were there for some of it at least. "Tell me something while you are picking at me."