What he can do, at least, is miracle up a roll of clean cloth and small ceramic container of balm. He sets them aside to assist Crowley into a sitting position, careful to only touch him where the burns haven't already spread.

"Didn't plan on it," he repeats dryly. What was the plan, then? What's he doing here in the first place? He doesn't bother asking aloud; he knows it's not the time. He unrolls a length of cloth and dips his clean (always clean) fingers into the balm to spread it onto the pristine white linen. All the while watching Crowley's pained face. With every grimace, every flicker of agony, the angel winces. The last thing he wants to see is Crowley burn up right in front of him.

"You can do it," he says to Crowley encouragingly. "I'm going to start bandaging you now." And then he does, very gently, starting with the demon's left hand. The balm won't make much difference until Crowley can get the holiness out of him, but hopefully it will soothe the pain just enough to help him concentrate.