"I hate how you put yourself in situations like these."

Eight crushed his cheek into the palm of his hand further at the sound of Ain'res' breaking voice, making a point not to turn around as the Chiss tended to his wounds.

"...I couldn't leave you alone." He answered, voice just above a whisper.

The other agent's own expression remained sharp with professionalism-- but Eight could sense the rawness of his emotions without even looking at him. For all his purposeful gentleness, Ain'res' frustrations betrayed him, his fingernails digging so tightly into the kolto-soaked rag that it bubbled with foam beneath his cuticles.

The sting of it against his open skin did little to relieve either of them. Still, dutiful as ever, Ain'res scrubbed at his scars. The repetition was a calming tactic, mere routine in a time of constant threat. It didn't stop tears from blooming at the edges of his crimson eyes.