She cleaned herself methodically, more habitual than anything, and by the time Clint joined her she was just standing under the spray, letting it wash over her as if it could wash away all her worries.

Nodding in answer, she looked him over and smiled weakly.  “You look much more awake,” she said.  “I’ll try not to get you wet.”

Grabbing the bottles of shampoo and conditioner, she set them beside Clint before seating herself in the tub and finding the best position so he could wash her hair.