You shouldn't have put yourself through this because of me.

( He scolds again under his breath, worn into a rasp from the dire situation they're still experiencing. Trapped in this convoluting dream. Sunday's bare finger pads dab over the scratches, the scars and the bruising. He might be a stranger, yes, and the beginning might have been rocky but here, they are a team.

He glances up at him, finding himself locked on his gaze while he ponders. )

They managed to rake their talons on your face, too.

( He moves away so he can squeeze out bloodied water from the towel. It's not much, just pink, but he rinses it again so he can start the process over. )

I can clean it for you, too. You can't possibly keep going all dirty like this. It might get infected.