"Bad," he agreed. Hadn't he just the other day been talking to Desirae how they were likely all coming out of this with some sort of scar? Some sort of trauma to deal with? All kinds of therapy bills? "We're all going to be a little cracked on the other side of this," he murmured. "When we get out ... we're going to be dealing with this for years."
Which sometimes made him wonder if it was worth it. But there were good times mixed in with the trauma. People he wouldn't be getting to know otherwise. He'd just make sure to make it worth it.
He wondered if she could try to drown them out with something else. Music, or ... something. Maybe not though. It worked for him, but that didn't mean it'd work for everyone.
When she gestured toward his room, he couldn't help the brief but highly inappropriate (at least given the situation) thoughts the flit across his mind. Oh, he knew she meant to shower, and maybe to sleep, but that didn't change the reflexive thoughts. "Yeah," he agreed with a nod after he'd swallowed. "I'll get you some clean stuff to change into," he said. Well, stuff of his, and he wasn't going to be able to do anything about her underthings, but he could at least give her his sweatsuit. It would be ridiculously big on her, but at least it'd keep her warm. He'd get the comforter out of the closet too while she was cleaning up and get that set on the bed or the couch or wherever she felt like crashing.
So he moved to open the door to his bedroom, turning up the thermostat in there, too before he gestured to the bathroom. It was pretty much the same as it was in the other cabins (if Jaime and Mike's was a standard example) and he doubted she needed him to point, but there it was.