Tony blew a breath out between his lips. "For a little maybe, yeah," he said, standing. "Can you see any stains on this shirt?" he asked, indicating the wifebeater. He was seriously so tired he didn't trust his own eyes. Once she answered, he shook out the scrub shirt and held it up with one hand, so she could see the blood. "I was on ER for the last few hours, a guy attacked one of our security guards with a chair and stabbed him. I got to stick a finger in the hole to stop the bleeding!" He gave that his fake-chirpy voice, then sighed, throwing the shirt at the kitchen sink to have peroxide poured later, and started towards his room.