↳ The knife sliced easily through the rope, and subsequently, his thumb.
"Ah, bless it," Russell grunted, bringing the digit to his mouth to ease the sting as he stuffed the knife back into his satchel. He smacked the horse on the hindquarters and it took off at a gallop down the road.
Works frowned at him. "Okay, Kid?"
Russell turned back to the cart and held up his thumb, the cut across the knuckle beginning to well with a thin line of red. He shook his head, more embarrassed at his dumb mistake than in any kind of pain he couldn't handle. "I'll survive this time, I think."
EJ popped up from inside the cart and leaned over the side to look at the injury. The minute Works' eyes landed on it, however, he went pale.
Jack patted the wood under EJ’s elbow. "Right. Let's get this safe outta here. You grab one end, Kid, and I'll—McCoy?"
Works had Jack's arm in a tight grip, leaning into the cart, neither of which were at all adequate in keeping him upright. At once, EJ scrambled to grab his shoulder and Russell sprang forward to catch him, but the angle at which he slid proved too difficult to reconcile, and Russell went halfway down with him.
"Shit—!" Russell hissed, at least able to cradle his head before it smacked against the packed dirt.
"What the hell was that?" Jack exclaimed after exchanging a bewildered glance with EJ. "I ain't never seen that man faint at the sight of blood in all the time I'd known him."
Russell lowered himself to the ground and kept Works' head off the dirt. He carefully turned him onto his back, sure to keep his thumb from bleeding on his clothes. He wouldn't hear the end of it if he didn't. "Wet a cloth and gimme the water. And a bandage, I guess."
Jack nodded, striding to Darla's saddlebags. "Don't move 'im."
EJ watched Russell unbutton the top button of Works' shirt and fan him with his hand. "He's usually the one patching us up. Don't how I feel about this." She was smiling, but Russell noticed some strain involved. "Glauco lost a whole toe to a fish and he didn't bat an eye."
Works started to wake as Jack returned with the things Russell had asked for.
"No, no, my delicate flower," Jack teased, handing Russell the damp rag and tin cup. "You stay right there. Kid's got you."
"...Have I fainted?" Works asked. Clarity rose quickly through the grogginess, and he placed a hand over the rag Russell draped over his forehead before groaning his displeasure at being several feet lower than where he’d started. "Oh, I’ve fainted..."
"You okay?" Russell helped him take a sip of the water and, at Works' cue, pushed him with care to sitting upright. "You got us pretty confused, I think. What happened?"
"Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you." Works took a heartier gulp of the water, pressing the cloth to his collar and chest. "This has been humiliating enough."
Jack snickered and clucked his tongue, propping a boot on the hub of the wheel beside them. He hitched up his gun belt and aimed a smart grin Russell's way. "Aw, McCoy. You care so much about the kid that you get the vapors at the thought of him bein' hurt."
EJ reached over to swat Jack on the back of the neck. "Get the safe and get goin', you child..."
When Jack shifted his attention to EJ, Russell lowered his gaze from him to Works, whose distant, uncomfortable stare at the horizon gave him pause.