Crane's continued laughter was disconcerting, but as long as he was laughing, he was breathing and Tillman took the joviality as the mixed blessing that it was. He tuned out the majority of what was being said. More ranting about the Batman. Babbled nonsense.

Tillman pulled the van into the indicated building and gave it a quick once-over before climbing into the back with Crane. The doctor's pupils were slightly dilated, but his eyes were bright and clear. Tillman pulled his knife out and knocked one of Crane's hands away so that he could slice through the material of his shirt to better examine the wound.

"You're going to be fine," Tillman stated calmly. "Ricochet. Do you have contacts in your operation that can treat it for you?" Tillman was a soldier and he had dealt with many of his own wounds over the years, but his brand of medicine lacked the niceties of a legitimate doctor's.