[ It occurs to him that he has never seen Jotaro have a crippling moment of weakness like this one. He pulls the cloth from his head and buries the gargoyle's face in it to heat and melt away the rest of the blood. When he pulls it back, he has made more leeway that he can make out. It's the REST of him that needs treatment. He can see his face, hair, and neck again without the sheen of whoever ended up on the wrong side of his teeth.

He wants to wash his hands... ]

The pain might be the worst part. [ He says as someone who no longer has to deal with the hunger-pangs due to the key around his neck that never goes anywhere anymore. He knows before it starts to hurt now. It's a blessing. ] It doesn't have to hurt. Not anymore. [ So long as he keeps tabs on it. If he follows Rohan's lead, he won't have to hurt. ]

Give me your hands. [ Rohan, who uses his hands to make his artwork, picks up one of Jotaro's. Razor-sharp claws and bloodied palms are scrubbed at-- Death Nails and all, each finger one by one. ] I can't shower you. This will have to do. I want you to rest here. [ He doesn't want him to be alone. Not like this. His eyes turn up and illuminate Jotaro's face with weird shadows falling this way and that. ]

Tell me what you want. I can't fix it. I can try.