Clark wasn't feeling particularly worried about it. He'd handled his own wounds for the last few weeks with much less than that; he'd mostly wanted to make sure Bruce didn't get annoyed by bleeding on something in the room since he'd been so pleased with it.

...Clark's brain had switched gears just a little the last month or so. It would probably slowly shift back, but at the moment, it was just a little left of his usual center.

Instead, once the kit had been retrieved and handed over, he went to wash himself off. It was a slightly more thorough job than had been done downstairs since he'd mostly just been sloughing off the grime in the cave. This was more of a shower. Once he was done, though, he reached for one of the fluffiest towels he'd ever experienced in his life.

"Towels... so... fluffy..." he noted intelligently as he started ruffling his hair under the towel.