By the time Jacobi gets back, Tim's finished cleaning up most of the mess, though another towel has had to be sacrificed to the run-off, and the bandages are more distinctly spotting now, though by no means soaked through.
"In my defence, it's hard to process something when you literally don't have the memories for it," he counters, giving his hands one last quick wipe before he takes the shirts.
Tim actually pauses with his shirt bunched over one bicep at Jacobi's comment on Jon, and the way his jaw suddenly sets as he clenches it for a moment says...
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"In my defence, it's hard to process something when you literally don't have the memories for it," he counters, giving his hands one last quick wipe before he takes the shirts.
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He says it with a bit of a laugh, but there's obvious worry and panic in his tone.
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"I'm still doing okay, Daniel. It's really not that bad, it just..." He glances down to his arms. "It looks worse than it is. That's all."
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He helps him with the shirt. "Will you go find Jon? I'm sure he's a goddamn mess and refusing to admit it."
Not that Jacobi has any idea just how bad it is.
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Well. A lot.
"Yeah. He is."
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He does help him with the rest of his shirt, though.