At first, she didn't even want to take the cloth herself, but logic and the overwhelming desire to be clean all over decided her. She took the soapy cloth and gingerly eased it over her skin, fingernails tightening on Omega's arm.

It took her several minutes, but at least she managed it, trying not to shudder by clenching her teeth as ghost touches followed her hands in nightmarish recollection. She finally threw the washcloth in the sink and, despite Omega's steadying solidarity, recoiled against the bathroom door, slamming into it and biting her lips bloody in effort not to shriek in inchoate terror.