Steve couldn't help but grin at Claire's proposition of a sponge bath. He'd honestly thought she was joking this when she'd mentioned it that morning.

"Really?"

"I mean, I had Rebecca bring all the stuff for it. We'll wash your hair and get you cleaned up." She smiled, but found her confidence faltering. "…unless you don't want me to."

"No, no, I want you to." He said almost too quickly. He fiddled with his blankets. "….unless you don't want to."

"….I'm gonna go run some warm water." She shook her head with a soft smile, disappearing into the bathroom.

Steve could hear the water running and Claire fumbling through the cabinets. The distinctive sound of half-filled bottles crashing to the tile floor of the bathroom made him smile. Life already felt like it was starting to return to normal – normal-ish, anyways. Every moment she was out of sight, he found himself getting a little more excited.

The idea of Claire touching him all over, slowly, had him downright giddy. An image of her sleeping, pressed up against him entered his mind. He remembered marveling at her while she slept, wanting nothing more than to brush his lips against hers.

"Steve?"

"Huh?" He snapped back to reality. He blinked a few times. "Sorry."

"I asked if you like hot or cold water for washing your hair."

"Oh, uh… hot. Please." He wet his lips, leaning back into his pillows. He told himself to relax. At this rate he wouldn't even make it through the sponge bath.

Claire carried the tub filled with hot water carefully back into the living room. A dark towel was draped across her shoulder. She hummed quietly to herself as she went about setting everything up. She pushed the sheets and blankets off the bed and spread the dark towel in their place. Next came the tub, making sure it was stable before turning back for shampoo.

Steve watched her, swallowing hard. He suddenly felt very exposed without the blankets covering him. The thin t-shirt and boxers that clung to his body weren't exactly… sexy. He wondered if he should call it off and just wait until he could stand to shower.

Claire dipped her fingers into the water to make sure the temperature was still comfortable. She looked up to him expectantly, waiting for him to move over. She frowned when he stayed still.

"Are you okay?" She knit her brow in concern. Had the pain killers worn off? Did he need help to move?

"You don't….have to, Claire." He murmured.

"Steve, you're being ridiculous." She held her hand out for him to take. He hesitated, eyeing it for a moment before taking it and moving to the towel. "You'll feel better after, I promise."

He sighed softly, laying down carefully with his neck propped up over the water. Claire used her hand to cup the clean water and gently pour it over his hair. The water ran a light gray as it trickled back into the bucket. She wasn't surprised, considering how dirty her own hair had been.

Steve closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Claire's fingertips being dragged lightly across his scalp as she wet his hair. He could smell the slightly sweet, somewhat fruity scent of the shampoo as Claire squeezed a healthy amount onto her palm. She lathered it, running her fingers through his strands. The suds started out white and worked their way to gray very quickly as they did their job lifting the filth from his hair.

He gave a small gasp, feeling a shudder run the length of his spine. His heart beat quickened and he screwed his eyes shut, trying to quell the feelings in his stomach. Every little touch from her was like a static shock running through his body. His breath hitched in his throat.

"Sorry," She drew her hands away. "Is it too hot? Am being too rough?"

"N-no." He breathed. "Just feels…nice."

She chuckled softly, rinsing the suds from his hair. His hair looked noticeably better, almost a shade or two lighter. "How's that feel?"

"A little better….. still kinda gross." He admitted.

"Yeah, I had to wash mine twice, too." She murmured, squeezing another bit of shampoo into her hand and working it into his hair. She paid loving attention to each strand, listening to Steve's breathing as she did so. She smiled inwardly, enjoying his reactions. "You've never had anyone else wash your hair, have you?"

"Nuh uh." He wet his lips.

"I used to know girls in college who would get blowouts just to get their hair washed. It's nice." She agreed with a nod. She rinsed his hair again, running her fingers through his wet locks one last time. They squeaked lightly and she smiled, satisfied. "Okay, hang tight for a minute…. Gonna get some fresh water."

Steve slowed his breathing, focusing on long, deep inhales and slow exhales. He felt his heart rate start to return to normal and he relaxed a bit. He silently reprimanded himself for getting so worked up at having his hair washed. He folded his hands in his lap as Claire returned to the room.

"Alright…." She replaced the bin. "Can you sit up again for me?"

Steve propped himself up on his elbows and carefully pushed himself into a sitting position. A few stray droplets of cooling water began to run down his neck and his back, causing him to shiver again.

"Arms up." Claire hooked her fingers under the hem of his t-shirt. He did as instructed, the best he could. She wasted no time, pulling it over his head and making sure to be gentle around his IV. He swallowed hard, trying to resist the urge to cover himself up. He was almost entirely exposed, aside from the boxers that were starting to become a little bit tighter.

"Well, was this everything you wanted?" Claire teased lightly, dipping a clean wash cloth into the warm water and wiping it across his back. She was careful around his stitches and bruises, rinsing the cloth before spreading a liberal amount of the citrus scented body wash on it.

Steve felt his face get hot. He liked it even more than he thought he would. He didn't want to squick her out or make her feel like he was enjoying it too much, but he was thoroughly enjoying himself. It had been months since he'd even seen a girl, much less getting touched by one. He was willing to chalk part of his enjoyment up to platonic touch – he's sure he would've enjoyed this just as much if some other girl had done it – but all of the feelings he held for Claire were starting to bubble back up.

After his back was done, Claire rinsed the cloth again in the water. It was already starting to turn that familiar brown-gray color with a light dusting of sediment at the bottom. She noticed he had far less dried blood on him than she would've expected and assumed Rebecca had done some sort of preliminary cleansing before treating him.

"Here, let me do your face while the water is…. Still kinda clean." She wrinkled her nose lightly, taking him by the chin lightly. She wiped the cloth over his forehead and down the bridge of his nose, slowly and gently. Next came his cheeks, which she noticed were quickly darkening as the blood rushed to them. She smirked softly, pausing to brush her damp fingers across his cupid's bow. "There. I can see your freckles again."

He made a soft noise in response, keeping his eyes closed. He couldn't help but notice how soft Claire's hands were, despite everything.

"S'nice." He murmured after a moment. "Thank you."

"Of course." She brought the cloth down his throat, brushing her fingers lightly over the bruises there. An image of him, pinned down by that awful iron axe, flashed through her mind and caused her to recoil. "…sorry."

"You didn't hurt me." He swallowed hard.

"That's good." She smiled weakly, dragging the wet cloth across his collar bone. His skin was pale and littered with imperfections. Scars, cuts, bruises. She traced the scars gently, listening to the way his breathing would change as she did so. She was especially careful around the deep purple and black bruising that left no room to guess which ribs were broken.

The whole process took a bit longer than she'd anticipated and she told herself it was just because she was being through – definitely not because she was enjoying it. She tossed the cloth into the bucket with a satisfied sigh.

"Do you feel better?" She smiled, drying her hand on her pants. Her fingers were lightly pruned.

He nodded, keeping his hands folded tightly in his lap. He hoped he could stay in this position until he could bury himself under the blankets again.

"Good." She smiled, slowly gathering the supplies to put them away. "I'm glad I could be of service."

"Thank you." He mumbled, watching her disappear back into the bathroom with her arms full. He took the time to shift back into his original position, his back against the pillows at the head. He realized too late that it was all in vain because he couldn't reach the blankets that Claire had pushed off onto the ground. He sighed and kept his hands folded over his lap, hoping Claire wouldn't notice when she returned.

Claire dumped the dirty water out into the shower, watching the murky liquid disappearing down the drain. She found herself a bit distracted – she couldn't get the way Steve responded to her touches out of her head. Obviously, she cared very much for the younger boy. How much, she didn't know. She couldn't help but wonder if all of her feelings could be chalked up to their shared trauma.

She wrapped her arms around the rim of the sink, leaning close to the mirror. She stared at herself for a long, silent moment. Was she really interested in this boy, or was she simply considering him because they'd been through hell and back together? She sighed, pressing her forehead to the cool glass of the mirror. She was acutely aware of something below the belt tingling.

She rinsed her face with some cool water and headed back out to the living room. She frowned lightly when she noticed Steve seemed quite rigid. His back was straight against the pillows, his hands awkwardly sitting in his lap.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Can I just – blankets, please?" He tried to keep his request as short as possible, not wanting to give himself the chance to fumble over his words. He gestured with his head to the foot of the bed.

"Oh, of course. Sorry." She bent down, picking up the blankets and returning them to the bed. Steve unclasped his hands, fumbling for the edge of the blanket.

"Oh!" Claire spun around immediately as he did, her face getting hot. She saw the tent in his boxers that he'd been carefully concealing from her. She felt a rush of heat over her entire body and she wrote it off as embarrassment. "….I'm going to make a cup of coffee. Sorry." She added after a moment, already on her way into the kitchen.

Steve groaned in frustration, leaning his head back. Great. You've really done it now. She thinks you're a pervert. He thought, rubbing his temples with his forefinger and thumb. He wondered if he could blame it on the drugs – he seemed to be on enough that it might be a feasible answer.

Claire's fingers were shaking lightly as she busied herself with making a pot of coffee. She measured the grounds carefully, only spilling a bit as she dumped them into the filter. Having a cup of coffee this late in the evening was risky, but that wasn't what she was worried about at the moment.

Clearly, he'd enjoyed it more than she'd thought. She wasn't sure how to feel about that – happy that she'd given him some comfort? Embarrassed that something so hardly sexual had managed to turn both of them on?

She found herself in the kitchen until the coffee was finished brewing. She prepared hers exactly how she liked it – two sugars, splash of milk. She took a deep breath of the steam coming off of her cup, letting the familiar scent relax her as she pumped herself up for the upcoming conversation.

"….sorry. I didn't mean to… shame you, or anything." She said once she re-entered the living room. She stood a few feet away from Steve's bed, feeling a bit self-conscious and awkward.

"No, I'm sorry." He blurted out, running a hand through his still damp, but thankfully very clean, hair. "I don't… I'm not a pervert, or anything. It just… it was nice havin' you touch me." He murmured, sinking lower into the pillows. His face burned almost red enough to rival his hair.

"Yeah. I liked it too." She murmured quietly, practically into her coffee as she took a sip. No doubt these circumstances were strange – three days ago she'd been fighting to stay alive and today she was feeling awkward around a boy with a boner. It was like high school all over again.

Steve couldn't hide a soft smile. "Really?"

Claire shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. She felt a little uncomfortable about the situation – she didn't want to feel like she was taking advantage of him. He was two years younger than her and god knows he was particularly fragile right now – they both were, to be honest. She didn't want to rush into anything, especially right now. She chose her words carefully.

"Yeah. It…. I've never really given a sponge bath before. Like, I know the movies paint it in a specific light, but…" She trailed off, taking another long sip of her coffee. "….It was nice, is all."

Steve looked positively gleaming. "It was nice." He agreed.

Claire tipped her mug back, finishing off the last bit of coffee. "….I think I'm going to take a shower, now." She needed a moment to collect herself and wanted to give Steve – ah, some privacy.

She closed the bathroom door behind her, making sure to lock it. She knew it was very unlikely if not downright impossible that Steve would barge in on her, but she wanted to know she wouldn't be bothered. She turned the shower on, listening to the water hit the tile as the steam began to fill the room.

She stared at herself in the mirror again, shaking her head after a long, silent look at herself. She had one question to ask herself.

"Claire, what are you getting yourself into?"