He senses the commotion more than he actually witnesses it. For all the crystal clarity of those first few moments after he hit the ground, struggling to find his voice as his life pooled beneath him, the world seems to be skipping forward in fits and starts now, and the sound of a car peeling off in the distance pulls Sean back to reality much more sharply than the voice suddenly at his side.

He stops. He focuses.

He'd recoil, if his muscles didn't feel so bloody sluggish.

"What're you..." he starts, staring as he clutches his hand to his side, tries to sit up. The struggle proves difficult enough that he doesn't actually get around to finishing the thought with anything other than a wince.