Joey looked sympathetic when she heard him hiss at the pain that almost definitely came with having to run water over the wound. She wished that she had some kind of antiseptic to use, not that she thought that would hurt less than the water, but at least it would've been worth the pain. Water was only going to clean it so much, depending on how pure the water was and Joey didn't exactly have a filter on her faucet.
"Okay," Joey said, taking the thread and picking up the needle from the piece of clean linen she'd torn from one of the curtains to place it on. "Gimme one sec to get this threaded and then we can go sit down while I do this," she offered.
Joey was typically very good at this sort of thing, having sewn the bottom hems of her pants on her own for years because it was impossible to find the right size for her, being as short as she was. Joey tended to have to choose between something that fit her rounded hips or was the right length and her hips always won out. So when she started to thread the needle, she did so easily — she thought. But, apparently, she'd missed and hadn't even noticed, because when she let go of the needle and took hold of the thread to tie the end, the needle dropped with a tiny ping as it hit the floor. "Oh, for fuck's sake...shit, hang on," she said, bending quickly in an attempt to retrieve it.