Vince peered up just in time to see a young woman appear in front of him and asked if he wanted her help. She was pretty decent, a specimen he might have used to model his clothing, but was there ever a more ridiculous question to be asked to a man who had just survived a plane wreck. "You have to ask?!" He heard himself yell. Obvious pain shot through his voice, he had been keeping it bottled up, but with the asking of such a question he released some of it out at her in anger. Pain shot through his thigh and his fingers turned white as they applied pressure, awaiting someone who didn't have to ask. As another women approached him he prayed she wouldn't have to have a conversation with Thing One here, standing in front of him to figure out that he needed help. Relieved by her voices slightly, only in the fact that she had some idea as to what she was doing he would keep his mouth shot. If he angered this woman, she might abandon him and he would had to hop about like he was now.

"Vincent.." He said, for a moment releasing his clenched jaw to speak, only to allow his hands to grip his thigh tighter. "You're not a doctor?" He asked, a small attempt to make small talk, maybe even keep his sanity. He didn't want to unleash his temper in such an unstable situation. It would only end in the death of him. The seat laid back and as did Vince, letting out a scream as the muscles of his thigh tore around the bar. Taking a few deep breaths was all he had time before the woman stuffed a t-shirt into his mouth. Better than something else, he thought. The thought didn't last long as the woman began counting. His mind hadn't completely been on her voice. Vince wanted to ask why she was counting , but found out before he could ask. His teeth sunk into his t-shirt, wetting it in saliva. His eyes cramming themselves shut, not wanting to witness the gore. He was going to bleed out, he could see it like a movie playing on the back of his eyelids. However, this girl worked fast. She tied the arteries and veins with speed, he was unsure of what she had used to tie them with, but it had worked. The hot sewing needle was the best part weaving in and out of his skin like silk. There was almost a grace to the way she worked. He managed to open his eyes, still biting down on the cloth, and watch her stitch him. He took the pills when given to him

When she was finished and helped him up he gave a smile. Whether it was real gratitude or convenient for the moment he was unsure. "Thank you." He said, not remembering the last time he had said the phrase. The limping man managed to make it out of the wreckage with the woman's help. He let his leg lay where the Piper had put it and watching her go off to help the others.