Tim hisses sharply at the press of the rough fabric on open wounds, but he manages not to flinch too hard. "Can't say I'm a fan," comes through gritted teeth, but the towelling keeps the bleeding at bay for long enough to get a good start on the bandaging, and Tim reaches out with his free hand to turn the tap off. His sink is an absolute mess of blood, but he'll clean it up later.

"Don't you just love the bloody-- gratuitous injury floods?" he comments, actually taking the moment to look now that he's not so distracted by bleeding out. Because... well. Some of these are familiar, and he frowns as he uses the mirror to examine the old gouges down his chest.