[It occurs to Kratos that, as terrible as Kratos might be at recognising when he needs the help, Yuan is equally terrible at admitting he has emotions. And it's unexpectedly touching, the idea that Yuan considers him his; not that Kratos doubted the element of responsibility Yuan felt, but the possessiveness --

[Well, there's a reason rumours abounded. And yet Kratos finds it more comforting than not. He's always belonged to Tethe'alla; that's what it meant, to be a bastard of a high-ranking family. To belong to everyone. To serve everyone. It's alien, but comforting, the idea that just one person considers Kratos his, for no other reason than just -- because, apparently. Enough that Yuan considers defending Kratos to be worthy of being one of the few battles he chooses to fight.

[Kratos can count on his hands the number of times he hasn't felt alone. Including now, it seems as though at least two of them have been because of Yuan.]

I understand.

[This time, Kratos is sure of it; and he's smiling faintly, if self-deprecatingly.]

I should have come to you sooner.

[That seems, right now, the biggest mistake he's made these last three weeks. He might have avoided feeling so ashamed and helpless, if he'd only come to Yuan sooner. Kratos uncurls his fingers from the salve, and offers it to Yuan.]

... If it's not too much of an imposition -- I don't think I'll be able to reach most of the bruises.