"Well, at least he'd be more creative. The same old punishment gets boring!" And apparently, it also gets ineffective. As usual, Clopin was joking about their master's cruelty, though it would take a little time before he joked about it to his face again.
He glanced back at his companion, giving a gap-toothed smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes--it got harder and harder to fake smiles as time went on--but there was sincere gratitude there. "Bah, I lived on the streets of Paris for years. Infection can't do much to me anymore." He shrugged, then immediately regretted it and winced at the stinging pain that ran through his back. "Someone has to poke some fun at him, though I regret you have to deal with the aftermath."
He couldn't stop a small hiss when the water touched his raw flesh, spitting out a soft curse in French, but then he forced himself to relax. He didn't like showing pain. While over the year he'd come to trust his friend dearly, he still tried to keep a brave face on. He didn't want the Doctor to feel like he was broken too. "Merci, mon ami. At least someone appreciates me." Another self-deprecating grin. "My, my, sitting still longer than a minute? Quite a tall order, but for you, mon cher, I'll try."