"They do have their ways of getting things," he agrees, letting his bandaged hands rest on his thighs. It feels good to just stop for a few moments, to forget the horrors of the warehouse and the pain in his hands and the shame of his scars and just...everything. Close his eyes and breathe, and pretend that it's just not there for a little while.

He's coming back to himself, and it's a gradual sort of shock and pain, like the bruises that only become apparent hours after an impact.

But he'll get through it. At a slow stumble, perhaps, but he'll get through it.

"And I will," he promises quietly. "It won't be the first time they've seen me."

And won't be the last, the way things here are going. But at least there are things they can do to minimize the scarring.