@grimnephilim
Stiles had stayed at the site of the explosion as long as possible. Which meant he stayed until a medic saw him fall to his knees and they gave basically dragged him into the next ambulance. He is out and in of consciousness during the drive, already hooked up to a drip while they sort through his make shift bandages. There had been someone who had done first aid on Stiles, but instead of going to the hospital right away, he had spent the following hour or two searching for his boyfriend adn thentrying to help where he could.
By the time he arrives in the E.R. he is aware enough again, that he can stumble his way along. He looks a complete mess, dust and blood covered. His right arm hangs uselessly at his side, deep gashes visible through torn cloth. It had been crushed under debris in the explosion, his ribs having taken the rest of the damage.
The rest was luckily just scratches and bruises, and while the damage to the arm was bad enough, by now he was barely aware of the pain, having powered through it for too long. He couldnt even say if he just didnt feel anything, or was too far gone to register it. “Hey Doc.” He greets tiredly, tilting to the side slightly where they had sat him down on the gurney
