[So much for that. Dixon grabs Ronan's wrist to stop the blow to his face, trying not to let that distraction pull his attention away from the Nazgul approaching with its sword pulled.]

Just saved your ass... [He gets to his knees and gets the shield propped at an angle between them and the Nazgul. He doesn't have the time or space to get to his feet.] You want psychopath, you get your magic voodoo back and take out this guy.

[He feels the back of his undershirt getting damp and instinctively checks it with his palm; it comes back bloody. He meets Ronan's eyes, the panic there, the glassiness.]

Get out of your head and do some fucking magic!