Jonathan Sims

Martin laughs, surprising himself with it, and mercifully the steam helps mitigate any resultant cough. He nods, acknowledging the point, still grinning a bit as he lets his eyes fall shut and returns to his more comfortable slump. It is nice, being here, having John with him. Even if he still can't quite figure out what to do with himself.

He should probably actually do the bathing part of the bath, for starters.

He opens his eyes and looks at their modest collection of soap, shampoo, and conditioner, all contained at the far end of the tub, easy to reach in the shower, but now?

Water sloshes noisily off his arm as he makes a cursory grab, but without much energy to actually lean forward, he misses the mark by a wide margin.

"God, I hate being so tired," he mumbles. He would feel embarrassed for needing help with something so small, but at this point that ship has pretty well sailed, which is some sort of victory at least. "Could you pass me the... one of those?" he says with a weak gesture.