"I'm not." he says, lifting his chin to look up at the other man, "Thomas. Do you mind if I call you that? I'm used to first names. My unit...we don't stand much on rank, except where it's important."

Another glance down, and his eyes trace all the red lines across his chest, the bits of cloth Thomas is using to clean the wounds. He's still shaking, he doesn't know how long he can hold out like this, but he's faced worse, watched Harry go through much worse.

"Thank you. I don't need it right now, but it'll help keep me from going into that state again. Loud sounds bother me."

He avoids eye contact again, his head turned to the side.