"I'd argue that you shouldn't have wasted even that much on me when this is all my own fault, but... hah, I know better," Glacius murmurs, flexing his hands experimentally once that burning sensation begins to fade. At least the pain associated with Carlisle's craft has become a good kind of hurt, as it marks his physical suffering being excised. "And... I wanted it."

He figures that's important to say, probably long overdue by this point. The ice alien knows that he puts up a lot of fuss when it comes to this, and while it's out of concern for his partner's deteriorating condition, he still can't imagine it feels very good when the clergyman considers this his one true calling. It's probably not unlike the way he feels when Carlisle protests his attempts to protect him by physically fighting off his tormentors, after all. He doesn't want his partner to feel like the lengths that he goes to for him go unappreciated, so he leans his head forward, nudging the human gently with his forehead.

"So... thank you, Carlisle."