[Sharky ignores his thoughts of what the fuck did you do and who did you kill and who's knife is it, then??? Those are things he can freak out about later, once they've dealt with the gnarly-looking knife sticking out of Pratt's shoulder.]

It's gonna be okay. Let me look. [Despite how fucking freaked out he had been seconds ago, Sharky's voice comes out even and firm, and his hands don't shake as he examines the knife.] Take a deep breath, man, you feel any pinching? Shit can get your lungs if it goes too deep. Fuck, this thing is nasty-looking. [He definitely doesn't want to take it out until he knows that it hasn't pierced any organs. The last thing he wants to do is collapse Pratt's lung...]