Charlie didn’t know what he was expecting when he beckoned you for aid. You were the only one in the whole church that had the knowledge of his self-imposed penance. After walking in on him punishing his sins, he felt ashamed. The topic was ignored, until it had to be resolved.

The scars that littered his back had become extremely painful. He couldn’t deal with cleaning them just alone. His high value of trust within you left him with the obvious choice of requesting you for help.

“Just.. dampen the rag and start slow. They’re sore,” Charlie muttered. He shifted to kneel, his back facing you. The red slashes covered most of his back. Lots of them were fresh, with a few having been slightly healed.

He had set you up with a rag, some healing ointment, and a few other first-aid materials. His trust was completely in your hands. He trusted you with this painful secret. As you glided the rag over his skin, he let out a hiss and gritted his teeth.

“Slow down! That hurts.” He mutters, clenching his jaw. Despite the level of pain he was experiencing, he tried to be strong. It was embarrassing enough that he had these marks, but to have someone care for them was a different thing.