[Vash groans. Stitches? That sounded like something that could eventually become a scar. Ah well, what was another one at this point? His eyes drift from the trail of blood on his arm over to his toothbrush. He really should take care of those injuries right away but...]

You want to go ahead and lay down some towels or something? Otherwise I might end up staining your bed. [He says this as he reaches for the mouthwash with wince. He was at least going to rinse his mouth free of this awful taste if not a full brushing.] I'll meet you there in a bit. [Reaching out hurt and pulled on his injuries. In the end he fumbles the bottle and knocks it into the sink instead of picking it up.]