Backpack still in place, gloves remaining on his hands, and the flashlight having never been accepted, there should not be anything else from the teen to keep track of in terms of collecting items to avoid leaving evidence.

His muscles quiver subtly, the flickers of contractions palpable on contact with his skin or through his shirt under his hoodie. The pressure draws out stronger twitches as Walter rubs his back under or around the backpack, but Benjiro still finds comfort from the motion as he allows his eyes to close momentarily.

“No, no need. R-really sore...that’s all,” he quickly denies at the mention of a hospital, his jaw sore as the rest of him simply speaking. They have Mary Ann available if it were an emergency, but this is not one. His greater concern lies in avoiding detection, “...i-is anyone nearby?”