He knows Blue has got to hate this: being dependent on him (or anyone) just to stand on her own two feet. It's not going to last long, he wants to tell her, not when she's recovering in vast strides every day. But he doesn't say anything in front of Owen and Dr. Gwen, just holds her steady and lets her clutch at him as much as she damn well pleases.
Bringing up a shower makes him realize, in a distracted and uncaring sort of way, that he could probably stand to bathe as well. Much of the dead flesh and dried blood had dissolved away in the rain as he shield Blue from it, back in the jungle, but he hasn't been clean in a good while, either. If only to make himself less offensive to his mate, he'll bathe after she does. In the meantime, yes -- any kind of bath that will suite her, he'll help.
After a second's thought, Omega simply leans down and scoops her gently into his arms again, extremely mindful of her incision. Blue has never liked to be carried, but she doesn't have much choice for now, and the only people around to look twice are precisely the ones who would have the least to say about it. So he keeps his mate's unsteady feet from touching the floor as they follow Dr. Gwen, and she shows them where the washcloths and towels are kept, and which soap is acceptable. Good enough.
Dr. Gwen rests a folded towel on the counter next to the sink, and after she departs, Omega sets Blue carefully down on top of it, glancing at her to be sure she's not uncomfortable there (any more than she would be anywhere). He grabs a couple washcloths, and the soap, and turns on the water until it's comfortably warm but not too hot, and then moves to carefully strip the hospital gown from his mate so he can soak a week of hell off her skin.
no subject
Bringing up a shower makes him realize, in a distracted and uncaring sort of way, that he could probably stand to bathe as well. Much of the dead flesh and dried blood had dissolved away in the rain as he shield Blue from it, back in the jungle, but he hasn't been clean in a good while, either. If only to make himself less offensive to his mate, he'll bathe after she does. In the meantime, yes -- any kind of bath that will suite her, he'll help.
After a second's thought, Omega simply leans down and scoops her gently into his arms again, extremely mindful of her incision. Blue has never liked to be carried, but she doesn't have much choice for now, and the only people around to look twice are precisely the ones who would have the least to say about it. So he keeps his mate's unsteady feet from touching the floor as they follow Dr. Gwen, and she shows them where the washcloths and towels are kept, and which soap is acceptable. Good enough.
Dr. Gwen rests a folded towel on the counter next to the sink, and after she departs, Omega sets Blue carefully down on top of it, glancing at her to be sure she's not uncomfortable there (any more than she would be anywhere). He grabs a couple washcloths, and the soap, and turns on the water until it's comfortably warm but not too hot, and then moves to carefully strip the hospital gown from his mate so he can soak a week of hell off her skin.