[He places all his focus on safely descending the stairs, taking it step by step before giving them his full attention. With Lee appealing to his sense of reason and Alfred to his heart, he needs a moment to think, fretting his lip as he looks into Alfred’s puffy, harried face. Alfred has never begged him for anything — not since that day Oswald put his rope-chafed hands around his neck and squeezed with everything he had.

Oswald draws a steadying breath.]

I need you to patch him up as best you can. [He tells Lee, finally.] There might still be medical supplies in the bathroom down the hall. Towels, at least. I will look for something he can wear.

[He makes it two steps before whirling around and awkwardly shimmying off his thick wool coat. Alfred has suffered humiliation long enough; he shouldn’t have to freeze on top of that.]