Newt scrunches his nose, lips downturn, brow furrowing. His breath hitches. Moisture gathers at his eyes, dampening his lashes. The furious blush on his cheeks darkens into an alarming shade of red that Graves, despite being told to stay horizontal on the bed, rises to sooth his lover.

"I'm fine. Everything is all right, see? We're all right." He tries, awkwardly offering comfort. Graves reaches out to pat him on the shoulder, migrating quickly to cupping his cheeks and caressing his thumb over his freckles. "Please don't cry." He winces helplessly when Newt's soft sobbing rises in volumn.

"I-I..." Newt hiccups, "I can't stop!"

It is desperately alluring despite the obvious unalluringness of a crying man. Graves feels his heart flutter at the way Newt sniffs and sobs in turn. It's a nice feeling, the knowing that there is someone who will cry for you.

A Matron peeks her head into the room, eyebrows raised in question. Graves waves her away, trying to calm Newt down. "Come here." He pulls him close and up onto the bed. Newt folds himself desperately into his arms.

Graves can feel his shirt front dampening with snot and tears. Mindful of his injuries, he pats Newt's back. He will need to remind Tina not to overexaggerate when telling Newt about him being injured on the job.