"That's all that matters in the end." Booth took the kit from her and set it down on the bed. "Well, the positioning of the wound on your arm might make it a little awkward with all the.." He motioned. "I thought I'd save you a few curses." He unlatched the top and dug through, finding a small guaze pad and a roll of tape.
"I've had worse." The moment those three words automatically slipped out, he frowned, knowing that he'd just lied to both of them. "Well, not worse but it could be worse. Could be dead and in Hell so I'll just roll with it and hope that things just sort of...become clearer." The brush of her hand on his cheek caught his attention and he looked up to meet her eyes. "Thanks," he replied, his voice quiet yet grateful.
He tore off a piece of tape and stuck it to the guaze pad before positioning it over the wound. As he pressed the tape down to hold it in place, he listened. His stomach turned, unable to imagine the carnage she had come home to. "I'm sorry." He quit working on the tape to lay a hand on her back, moving it in slow circles, a reassurance. He meant it. "No one should ever have to see that."