"God, you've got blood everywhere," she says with a little laugh, though it's not all that funny, because she's hardly squeamish, but she doesn't love the sight of his blood. She's seen way too much of it lately, tonight on his face, that other night on the sidewalk. She's had his blood on her hands, and she has to push that aside as she gets up from the edge of the tub and begins to look for some kind of cloth she can run under the water for him.

"When they had you in the hospital, did they do a CT scan or an MRI or whatever the hell they do for head injuries?" she asks as she hunts, finally finding a small towel in a drawer. She goes to the sink and runs it under cool water for a moment before offering it to Newt as she waits for him to answer. Maybe that's something they do when a person has a concussion, maybe they've already looked at his brain, determined everything is fine and there's nothing to worry about, but if they didn't, she's going to ask him to go to a doctor. It's weird to have decided already, especially while still partly asleep, but she has. He can pick the doctor, she doesn't care, but she wants to be sure he's not just going to keep having seizures, she wants to know that he'll be okay.