Sawyer is still nervous. He knew somehow that the other wouldn't have hurt him but he's skittish. He nods, hesitating before reaching to bring the other's hand from his chin up so he can kiss his palm before letting it go, ears pink.

"I was used to this sort of thing," he says, bruises, broken bones, all sorts of things but it doesn't matter here. He might not fully believe he's safe or trust Bishop but so far he hasn't been hurt. So it doesn't matter.

"They're healing."