I know they do. I know. [John's presumption that the next action would be Kid enduring Stein removing the stitches himself, forcefully, isn't wrong. The teen has been quiet, but he'd already endured a very uncomfortable physical exam. An exam that included looking at his eye, which had gone exponentially worse than this.

Kid shudders, taking a shaking breath. He's not willing to admit that physical comfort would be helpful--it's in times like these that he misses his weapon partners the most, the way Patti would settle against one side and Liz against his other and tangle themselves around him until he was finally still.

Head bowed, he nods slowly. The sniffle he attempts to hide by clearing his throat.] I want to try. What sort of...what sort of grim reaper am I, if I cannot tolerate this? [He scrubs his hands through his hair.] There is no excuse. Please, forgive my earlier behavior.