(Untitled)

[bad_as_he_is]

There is a young boy sitting at one of the tables. Normally, his face would hold a bright smile and perhaps a curl of mischief at the corner of his lips, but at the moment those lips are pressed together into a tight line with only the occasional hiss shifting them at all. In his hand is a small bit of cloth and beside him is a glass of whiskey

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[almost_arabian]

Lawrence just happens to be sitting a small distance away when he notices the boy. He's neither amazing or fantastic in his own opinion, but he has had a lot of experience mending wounds, however small.

And so he sweeps himself over, standing at the edge of the table and then offering a hesitant smile.

"Would you like some help, young man?"

[bad_as_he_is]

He looks up, a little startled at the strangely-dressed gentleman. There's a moment's hesitation, a second where he considers sticking it out and being a Man, of course, but he bites his lip, holds it in, and finally nods.

"If it's not too much trouble, sir," he says lamely.

[almost_arabian]

"Ah, not at all." There's a more confident smile before he collects a small amount of things from the bar and sits down in the booth.

"Here, now. Are you able to get your leg up here, young man?"

[bad_as_he_is]

He nods, not even gritting his teeth.

He's taken far worse with no response, of course. Lawrence would never have any reason to see them, but there are still scars across his shoulders and on his back from the good Reverend Thwackum's "lesson".

He stands and shifts to a nearby chair before pulling it over to the booth and putting up his leg.

[and_far_away]

Sharpe's still hungover when he passes in search of more coffee, but he stops on seeing Tom anyway. A wounded child's a wounded child, even if it's only a scrape.

"You all right there, lad?"

[bad_as_he_is]

He looks up at Sharpe, blinks a moment, and his head moves to nod before his lips quirk. No, not really all right, but he won't ask for help. He already feels badly enough for falling in the first place.

[and_far_away]

Sharpe sighs, dropping into a careful crouch next to the boy.

"You want to let me see?"

[bad_as_he_is]

Another moment's hesitation before he nods.

"If you like, sir. I don't want to be a bother."