Mn. [ —the Director's is a soft sound of acknowledgement, the surgical needle in his hand set aside as he takes to cleaning blood from skin (gently), applying a thin layer of ointment to the site of the sutures (with a ginger touch), and bandaging the wound with a fresh roll of gauze before he is satisfied that the injury will heal properly and heal well. ]

As I said, my fear was misplaced. [ Peeling the medical gloves from his hands, he is quick to discard them, and swifter still to touch his hand to Julius' shoulder opposite of the gunshot wound, his fingers curling there in a mirror of his friend's gesture from before. ] I... should not have doubted.

[ It is only that I doubt myself. ]

But you should know that both your arm and middle back will continue to be sore. [ Ever so slightly, he huffs, introducing a small bout of levity where he deems it to be needed— ] And I've half the mind to check on your other bandages, so long as I have you upon a medical table.

Your wellbeing... it is what matters most to me.