He realized how out of place he was when her sisters began to hover around her like worried mother hens, clucking about their wounded chick. He couldn't even kneel beside her and hold one of her hands; both of them were occupied. But Charles didn't resign so easily; he hovered over Josie's shoulder, trying to be as little of a nuisance as possible. Charles hardly spoke in group settings, and right now he was feeling just a little more introverted, panic skewing his judgment. What if she died? Would they sue him? He knew they were both intoxicated, but his car was parked when it all happened...<br/><br/>Depsite the legal rumbling of thunder over his head, he was also terribly worried about Nina. That shard of steel, presumably that had once been part of the passenger door, looked like it was deep. Deep enough to kill? Obviously not immediately, but she was in some serious pain. It was dark out; Charles thought it was a trick of the light when the wound began to immediately heal around the shard of steel. He winced when Josie yanked it out. "Jesus, you're going to kill her!" He was in a panic, ready to yank Josie away when... Well, nothing happened. Nina didn't collapse and die right there, she only winced in pain when the metal came out of her. Charles imagined that his own expression looked more pained than hers had been.<br/><br/>And then... Her wound began to seal. There was no tricking his eyes; It was dark, yes, but his sight wasn't that bad, and being a lycan certainly amplified his human senses. "God..." he whispered, half in exasperation, and half a brief prayer. It was nothing short of a miracle. Charles had never been a holy man, but there was something spooky happening here. He knelt beside Nina, taking one of her now free hands. "And I thought I had seen some crazy shit before," he gasped, one of his fingers going to trail across the thin scar that remained, the only reminder of the horrendous accident on her body.<br/><br/>Now he was the most wounded person of the group. He was suffering from the biggest, nastiest, bloodiest cut one could imagine... One so shallow, so comparably small, and so clean, he wouldn't even need stitches. He would just need to clean the blood off and maybe apply a bandage to prevent it from really fucking up his handsome face. He ran a hand across his forehead; Warm. Well, it was still bleeding, but that was no big deal. It wasn't bleeding enough to run into his eyes, and he sure as hell wasn't going to pass out from loss of blood any time soon. He licked his red fingers, inconspicuously, as if he were trying to clean them off, not as if he savored the taste... Which he did.