[ by now, the threadbare shirt is basically gone, scraps for a makeshift bandage that will only just help an injury that really needs stiches. But it makes it impossible to hide the litany of scars on him. evidence of being beaten with hard objects, punctures and burns across his skin, a gunshot wound close to his heart on his chest. and even signs of electricity gone wrong.
and, of course, the branded J on his cheek.
but he doesn't really seem to care about that, only looking up at her with vague recognition. she was there the day he first came in, and the name pings some memories over conversations he's read in the brief time he's been there.
and he stares at her, before looking down and shredding the shirt some more. ]
no subject
and, of course, the branded J on his cheek.
but he doesn't really seem to care about that, only looking up at her with vague recognition. she was there the day he first came in, and the name pings some memories over conversations he's read in the brief time he's been there.
and he stares at her, before looking down and shredding the shirt some more. ]
You got needle and thread?