The next few days were wholly unremarkable. Chris and Rebecca made their usual visits to check up on the pair. No nightmares to speak of. Claire was thankful for that. It finally felt like things were starting to get back to normal.

There was still some awkwardness and tension, thanks to Steve sighing and generally making his unhappiness known. Claire filled the heavy silence with music which seemed to help a little bit, until it was Steve's turn to pick and he undoubtedly decided on something with sad lyrics.

Chris brought a batch of fresh groceries the evening of the second day – Claire was most excited about the small cheesecake at the bottom of the paper bag. Four pieces, plenty to share with Steve. She felt a bit of excitement as she tucked the plastic container into the fridge as a surprise for later. Maybe some sweets would cheer him up.

Rebecca kept her promise on the third day, bringing a pair of shiny silver crutches by the evening of the second day to help Steve get around. She let them lean against the wall closest to his bed.

Claire had to excuse herself as Rebecca removed his IV. She didn't handle blood well – which was incredibly ironic to say the least. She'd seen and dealt with more blood than most soldiers saw in combat but it still made her woozy.

She busied herself with planning dinner – a quick rifle through the fridge turned up two decent steaks Chris had brought as well as some fresh asparagus and another package of bacon. Easy but delicious, she decided.

She hardly glanced up as she saw a figure on the edge of her vision. She assumed it was Rebecca, pulling a knife out and beginning to prepare the asparagus. She glanced up after a moment, a bit startled to see Steve making his way into the kitchen on crutches.

Claire made a noise – a laugh mixed with a gasp. She felt tears spark in her eyes. Even though Rebecca had said he was healing beautifully, a part of her had expected to find him unresponsive every morning. She always had that thought in the back of her head – he could take a turn for the worse at any moment. But, every day he got a little better and she worried a little less.

He grinned at her, coming to a stop on the cheap linoleum. He balanced somewhat precariously on the rubber tips of the crutches, feeling the slightly soft pads digging into his under arms. He paid no mind to it, enjoying being upright for the first time in nearly a week.

"Wow." Claire stared him for a moment as if nothing else mattered. She tore her eyes away from him after a moment, leaning on the sink and rubbing hard at her eyes.

Rebecca followed him after a moment with a smile. She seemed proud.

"Should make both of your lives easier." She said with a nod, surveying Steve. "Just….make sure you don't put too much stress on your knee or your ribs, okay?"

"Okay." Steve's grin didn't waver. He was practically glowing.

"I'd also prefer if you minimized time on your feet for the next few days."

The boy gave a sigh, his shoulders drooping lightly with her comment. "Fine…"

"Really, Steve." Rebecca pointed a finger at him. "You're going to be very sore for a while as your muscles acclimate. I want you to take it easy."

Claire cleared her throat, trying to shift the conversation forward. She didn't need another reason for Steve to pout longer. "Looks like you can finally get that shower tonight. And I'm making steak for dinner. To celebrate." She smiled.

Steve practically did two laps around the safe house, exploring. In as many days he'd spent in bed there, he'd really only seen the interior of the living room and the bathroom. The views were beginning to get stale.

He poked his head into the bedroom Claire was calling her own. The sheets were messy, pushed to the bottom of the bed. The flowers Leon had brought her sat on her bedside table, beginning to wilt. He felt a small pang of jealousy in his stomach again. He pushed the thought from his mind, hobbling back through the kitchen and pointing to a second door.

"What's that?"

"Spare bedroom." Claire smiled softly, chopping the asparagus in half. She wanted to get it marinating for a bit before dinner. She assumed he would be asking her for a shower any minute now.

Steve frowned softly. "Spare bedroom?"

"Well yeah. There's the one I'm crashing in, and then that one." She jerked her thumb to the door. He was silent for a moment, gaze following her thumb. He hadn't realized there were two bedrooms.

The question passed his lips before he realized it. "What room did Leon sleep in?"

Claire sighed. She had been hoping he had gotten over that. "The spare room." She didn't even glance at him this time, coating the greens in a mixture of seasonings and olive oil.

Steve felt his jealousy mingle with a pang of guilt. "…I thought there was just one bedroom."

"There's two." She shrugged lightly, covering the shallow dish with foil and placing it into the fridge. She washed her hands, turning to face him. "Rebecca thought it would be easier to get you set up in the living room at first. Closer to the bathroom, easier to get around you.

Steve hobbled over to the dining table, pulling one of the mismatched chairs out before taking a seat. His underarms ached dully from the crutches pressing into them. He looked around the kitchen – pale yellow walls decorated with white molding along the ceiling and floor.

"Sorry. For being jealous." He said as he ran one of his fingers over the wooden table, tracing a small groove in the wood.

Claire chuckled softly, brushing his hair from his face. "Does that mean you're gonna stop pouting?" She teased. He sighed but leaned into her hand. She smiled. "How about we get you showered before dinner?"

Claire spread out an extra towel in front of the shower, placing the plastic stool she'd managed to find tucked in a closet on the shower floor. She tested the water, turning it on and sticking her fingers underneath the faucet. It cascaded down and hit the floor and the stool. She smiled, turning to Steve.

"Alright. Hot?"

"Please." He found himself growing more and more excited. If there was one single thing he'd been looking forward to since waking up in Rebecca's triage it was a long, hot shower.

She fiddled with the knobs, testing it with her fingers as it heated up until it was a comfortable temperature. She wiped her fingers on her jeans to dry them.

"Do you need help getting undressed?" She asked. He nodded, almost shamefully. He wasn't really sure if he needed her help or really just wanted her skin brushing against his. "Alright, arms up."
He obeyed, lifting his arms up. His t-shirt was peeled off of his skin and tossed into the hamper beside him.

"Your bruises look a lot better." Claire brushed the back of her fingers lightly over the bruising. It had lightened from a deep purple to an unappealing mix of red and yellow. He didn't even wince this time.

"They feel better." He admitted, feeling a shiver run up his spine. He felt a heat begin to spark in his core. Being this close to Claire as she undressed him was beginning to stir… feelings. Next came the brace, laying it across the sink to let it air out. She turned to him again, now wearing only his underwear.

Her eyes flicked down. "Do you want me to…" She brushed her fingers against the waistband of his boxers.

"Please." He breathed, feeling his face burn. He hoped she wouldn't notice that he was half hard. Just being this close to her in such an intimate setting proved difficult.

Claire's fingers hovered for a second before tucking into the elastic. She pulled them off with a quick motion, averting her eyes. She kept her vision focused on one of the tiles in the shower as she helped him maneuver onto the stool in the shower.

He sighed as the water began to wash over him. He closed his eyes, using his arm to steady himself as he leaned further back into the water.

Claire found her vision lingering for a second before she covered her eyes and took a few steps back. The last thing she wanted was to make him uncomfortable.

"Call me when you're done, okay? Don't try to get up on your own."

"Yeah." He promised, just enjoying the water as it ran over his skin.

She left the door cracked as she left him alone in the shower.

Steve fumbled for the bottle of shampoo, squirting enough in his palm that it ran down one side of his hand. He lathered it in his hair, working the suds with his fingers. They ran down his body in little streams as they washed down the drain. He squinted at a bottle filled with orange liquid – face wash, the label said.

He pumped two full pumps into his palm, lathering it in his hands before smearing the foam on his face. He worked it in small circles, leaning back under the water after a moment.

He brought the body wash to his nose and gave a squeeze, enjoying the scent. He recognized it as the same stuff Claire had used for his sponge bath. Slightly fruity and sweet, a little more feminine than he would've chosen but he wasn't complaining. He squeezed quite a bit into his palm, starting at his chest and working his way down.

He could tell which cuts that weren't healed as well as the water and bubbles hit them, stinging a bit. The water running off of him was an unappealing gray-brown, not unlike dishwater. No wonder Claire hadn't wanted to touch him.

His hands worked down his torso, making sure to be extra gentle around his broken ribs. The last he'd seen the bruises they were deep so he was thankful that they had lightened up considerably. He applied the smallest bit of pressure and breathed a sigh of relief when it didn't hurt. Maybe he was actually making progress.

Steve's hand wrapped around his still half-hard self, squeezing lightly as he worked the soap across his skin. The warm water felt downright luxurious, cascading over his thighs. He found himself rolling his hips into his hand and drew away, exhaling a shuddering breath. He wanted to take the time to get re-acquainted with his body, but didn't want to make Claire suspicious. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was desperate.

He was careful as he washed around his knee, examining the mild swelling and bruising. The break here was a lot less visible but hurt a lot deeper. Before this, he'd never broken a bone. It was a strange experience, to say the least.

The water began to run cold by the time he called for Claire again. He finally felt human again.

He heard the door hinges squeak and he covered himself with his hands to save them both the embarrassment. Claire peeked through her fingers around the door, thankful that he wasn't entirely exposed.

She fumbled for a towel, handing it to him. He draped it across his waist to replace his hands.

"Can we put my brace back on?"

"Now?" Claire felt her face get hot again. She almost felt like he was trying to tease her.

"Please."

She sighed softly and retrieved the brace. In all honesty, it would probably be easier to move him without worrying about bumping his knee. She took the edge of the towel, patting his knee gently to make sure it was dry before wrapping the brace around.

Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth as she fastened it around his knee. It hurt a bit.

"Thanks." He smiled weakly.

"Of course." She stood again, extending a hand to help him up. He took it, carefully as he pulled himself into a standing position. He wobbled lightly, causing Claire's hands to shoot out to steady him. One on his bare shoulder and the other on his hip. His skin was soft and slick from the shower.

His face burned as his eyes flicked up to meet Claire's. "I'm okay." He murmured.

"Are you sure?" She asked, her hands firmly planted on him.

His face split into a grin. "I mean, I'm not going to complain if you wanna touch me, Claire."

She laughed, but let her fingers linger on his hips.

Steve was very excited to find the fresh set of clothing on the foot of his bed. Clean, light gray sweat pants, a maroon t-shirt with a v-neck and a pair of fresh boxers. He was thankful because he didn't think he could squeeze back into the same clothes he'd been wearing.

"Can you get dressed by yourself?" She asked, gently lowering him onto the mattress.

"Y'don't wanna help?" He flashed another grin. She wasn't sure if he was flirting for compensating with humor – he had a penchant to do both.

"Do you want me to help?"

"Yes." He answered, almost immediately. He kept a tight hold of the towel clasped around his waist. He was acutely aware of a few spare beads of water running down his chest.

"Because you can't do it on your own? Or…" She trailed off, cocking an eyebrow.
Steve felt his face get hot and he looked away from her. He hesitated for a moment before licking his lips. "Please."

"Mr. Burnside, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were flirting with me." A sly smile pulled at the corner of her lips. She began with the boxers, shaking them out before bending and slipping them over his feet. He opened the towel and raised his hips slowly to help accommodate her movements.

She wasn't sure if she was hearing her heartbeat or his pounding in her ears. Being this close to the boy, there was no telling. She found herself placing a soft kiss on his shoulder as she fumbled for the t-shirt. He put his arms up without prompting this time, allowing her to easily pull the garment over his head. Her fingers brushed lightly against his navel as the waistband of his boxers met the bottom hem of the t-shirt.

She admired the way the top fit on him. It was much tighter than the clothes he wore before. It clung to his still damp skin. He wasn't particularly muscular, but he was very well toned. His collar bone peeked out just slightly under the v-neck. She found herself licking her lips as she reached for the sweats.

Once he was dressed, she took a step back to admire her work. His hair, now beginning to dry, still clung to his forehead.

"Better?"

"Better." He grinned. He honestly felt like a different person. It was wonderful what a long, hot shower could do for one's morale. He heard his stomach growl and his smile faded a bit, sheepishly. "What were you saying about steak earlier?"