Credence is quiet as they fix the bandages, and silently grateful: Graves makes it a point to be patient, to let Credence help so he doesn't feel so useless, and his frustration is silent and ebbs away once the last bandage falls. Burns are different then lashes, Credence has come to realize, the pain is a little different. Not so different that he can't block most of it out, though he hisses as he moves without the aid of the bindings.

He tries to be brave. He thinks of Tina, he thinks of Stella and Peggy, and he thinks of how Graves himself wouldn't be caught shaking like this. They wouldn't shiver at the slightest touch, ashamed. They would be unafraid.

He nods, biting his lip. "Yes," He says, and it's more hushed and whispered than he wants. Graves is the first person to touch him like this--it's intimate, strangely so, far beyond the man who isn't him ghosting fingers over palms.

He squeezes his eyes, tight, and wills himself to stop.

"I'm sorry," He says after a moment. He's not even sure what he's apologising for.