Instantly Raju stands, frown now businesslike and he's at Francis' side, gaze moving over him, hand so gentle against his back it barely touches. Moving the chair to Francis, he decides, would be better than the other way around, and in a moment the heavy thing is there behind him and Raju's hands are at Francis' shoulder and his back.

"You can sit," he says and offers Francis his hand to hold onto the way Francis had needed near the beginning, when seeing him able to stand at all had lit something bright and hot inside Raju's chest. Watching him moving in that stiff, halting way feels very different, now. Raju's expression is focused, troubled, as close to neutral as he can keep it, and he's silent until he sees Francis settled — as settled as he can get now he's in this degree of pain again — back into the chair he's going to be spending a lot more of his time in.

In a moment he'll arrange a few pillows in the way that seems to help, or at least not hurt. In a moment he'll move the fish off of the fire. Right now Raju only looks down at him, looking troubled. "You could have done it yesterday," he points out, tone nearly neutral, but quieter than he'd intended it. It's hard to see Francis this way, and he doesn't want to put words to the reason behind the pain yet. Easier, or at least more bearable, to prompt Francis to do it instead.