“Do you want me to put a show on my laptop or something before I go? Must be kind of boring in here.”

She shrugs. "I- it's. Fine. I. Don't mind."

He nods.

"Well...let me know later, okay? And thanks for the food."

He pulls himself reluctantly out of his chair and disappears briefly into his room.

When he comes out again to walk to the bathroom he's holding a bundle of bloodied towels and some carefully folded plastic sheeting.

Her eyes widen as she sees those, and she starts to her feet. "I- are you- are you hurt?!" From the way she flinches back and apologises, she hadn't meant to ask that.

Oh, shit. Guess she didn't make the connection earlier.

"No, no, it's okay! I heal, remember?"

It's kinda hard to talk without gesturing and dropping all the stuff he's carrying.

"This is just, uh...work-related."

...oh. Oh. "oh."

She blinks at him. "I- you. I'm sorry. You said. I- stupid of me."

She doesn't want to think what he means when he says work-related. She doesn't think he intends to- do something like that to her. (She hopes.)

She sinks back down to her seat, arms wrapped around herself again, looking at the floor.

"Hey, no, it was kind of stupid of me to walk out here with my blood all over the place..."

She bites at her lip, shrugs. "I- do you. I can get those?" she gestures at the towels.

He shakes his head.

"I've got a thing in the bathroom for 'em."

Plus there's a few things wrapped in one of them for discreet transport that he would rather not show her.

"I- okay," she says, nodding.

She gathers up the bowls from their meal, she may as well tidy up the kitchen then.

...he’ll let that happen, this time. Honestly, if it were him, he might prefer cleaning up to being completely bored.

He goes and dumps his towels and clothes in the hamper and cleans what items he needs to clean, and then steps into the shower and scrubs all the dried blood off his skin.

When he comes out in his towel, there are rapidly fading scars visible on his arms and chest, mostly long, straight slashes. The most notable one is the name “JACK” dug into one side of his chest.

She's done all the dishes - although she's left them draining instead of drying them - and the end of the pasta is cooling in a tupperware container on the counter. She's back sitting at the table, hands twisting together in her lap.

She goes tense when he leaves the bathroom, very aware that he's only wearing a towel (please don't want anything, please). She watches him out of the corner of her eyes, shaking again, wrapping her arms around herself. She...isn't entirely sure what to make of the scars, especially not the letters. (But they're healing.)

He ducks into his room as quickly as he can and comes back in a loose shirt and sweatpants. Way better for interacting with traumatized teenagers than the other outfit, probably.

He just...looks at her, once he's in the room. He doesn't really know what to do.

She does seem to relax a little when he comes back more dressed, but shifts uncomfortably when she realises he's watching her. "I- did you-" (want something) "can I-?" (do something for you).

He rubs his head.

"I, uh..."

"I've got to take care of you and I don't really know how."

"I-" she shakes her head. "Don't want to be a bother. 'll be fine, sir."

"...please don't call me sir."

It's a little halting.

"You don't...have to call me anything."

"I- sorry." (He's said something about that earlier.) "I- habit?" She isn't sure that's the right word, but it might... might make it upset him less, if he knew that.

He nods.

"It's okay."

(She's not sure it is, she doesn't want to upset him.)

She opens her mouth to say something, although she's not entirely sure what, but is cut off by a wide yawn. (Followed by a flinch.)

Well, he doesn't seem upset anymore. He actually laughs.

"We should get that couch set up. Probably had a long day, huh?"

He disappears briefly into his room and returns with a thick, soft blanket and a pillow.

She flinches again when he laughs, not entirely sure what caused that. (It didn't sound mocking.)

"I- yes?" she agrees.

The pillow and blanket seem to surprise her, but... But she hasn't been warm since she ran away. And he brought them out. And she doesn't even have the energy to argue that she might set them on fire.

"Th-Thank you."

He nods.

"It's no problem."

He puts down the pillow and blanket on the couch and switches off one of the lights in the living room, leaving the lamp by the couch on.

"You can come grab me if you need to, ok?"

She nods, a little hesitantly - although she has no intention of disturbing him at all, that was definitely Against The Rules.

"I- sleep well?"