Sort of hurts? You've been shot, shouldn't it be excruciating or something?

[Stop. Helping. Sawyer.]

Sorry! [At least she realizes she's not.] When I get anxious, my mouth has this habit of saying every thought that pops into my head and the fact that you're bleeding all over the place? Really not helping the whole, anxiety thing right now. [A beat.] Not that you can help that! [Another.] Sorry.

[Sawyer would probably be appreciating how young and pretty he is right now if it weren't for the fact that she shot him and she's trying to turn her cardigan into... well she's not even sure what because she was too busy studying magic to worry about first aid.]

I'm... really sorry. [Grimacing before she can even press the cardigan to his wound.]