Will let his head hang forward, breathing deeply as Tuck worked. Tuck was being gentle and careful, not rushing the process, making his little sympathy hissing sounds and soothing with his fingers. Will let the sensations wash over him like a physical ASMR, feeling the hair on the back of his neck rise in response. He let Tuck remove his shirt too, pulling it up over his head like he was a child, to better examine the healing and fresher bruising up his sides and chest and see what needed attention. He didn't speak, just make little grunts of pain when Tuck touched a sensitive spot.
He felt his remaining animosity to Tuck going numb the longer it went on. He'd just been so alone. The only interaction he got was being booted and snapped at for asking questions, and he was so bored and starved for activity of any kind. Pacing back and forth to try and keep moving in between sleeping, regardless of the time of day because he was woken every four hours, was not a healthy routine. It was deprivation and it sucked.