The noise that comes out of his mouth as Charlie falls back against the table is almost inhuman; no words, simply a sound, something between a shout and a wail, a noise he's never made before, a noise he didn't know he was capable of making until he sees Charlie there, bleeding.

He's suddenly unchained, as though he'd never been restrained at all, and he's immediately bent over Charlie, trying to sit him up, trying to put pressure on the wound, trying to put Charlie's blood back in his body. It's coming out too fast, staining the green table red, and there's blood coming out of Charlie's mouth, too.

"You'll be okay," he says, but he knows he won't. Neither of them will be. His hands are soaked with obscenely red blood, and they shake as he desperately tries to stop the bleeding.