He kept the rest of his complaints to himself, though the occasional wince or twitch were enough to show his discomfort at some of Mary's maneuvers. When she'd finished, Benjy felt experimentally at his right eye, prodding the skin for signs of puffiness, running a forefinger along his eyebrow to feel the lack of hair where the cut had raked through.
"Can't sleep," was his response to Mary's questioning. "It's always that way after a fight, even just a regular fist fight. I just got too much energy, like I'm still ready to hit something, only I got nothing to do with it no more." He shrugged, then reached for her free hand, cradling it in both of his own. "'Course, when I finally do sleep I'll probably pass out for about twelve hours and miss practice tomorrow."