You've done the same for me. [ He gestured as if to push the words away, trying to show that it wasn't necessary. How much more had Ed done for him? Bringing him home was the very least he could do. He nodded several times at Ed's assessment, but when he looked back up with a question at the ready he paused and immediately shut his mouth when he realized what Ed was doing. He started fidgeting with his hands immediately and found a place on the floor to study in both shyness and an attempt to give him some semblance of privacy even though he'd have to look back up sooner rather than later. Oswald left what he thought was a suitable amount of time pass before he lifted his eyes, though he felt like an utter idiot when he realized he'd completely overlooked the idea of a wrist injury.

And he needed help. Oh no. A fresh rush of nerves spread through his body, but he moved forward quickly. His hands hovered for a few seconds before he actually got the nerve to start undoing the buttons of his shirt, though. ] Why didn't you just tell me you needed help to begin with?

[ He was mumbling. Couldn't look Ed in the face. His full attention was on each button as he went along before moving to the next, a large part of him actually dreading that he'd have to take off his undershirt too. One step at a time. Breathe in. Breathe out. ] This may hurt a bit. [ Oswald finally looked up, but only for a split second. He hoped that he was being gentle enough that it didn't hurt while he maneuvered the shirt off, but it was so much harder to judge when it wasn't yourself that you were taking care of. ] Better? [ There was so much blood on his undershirt. That stain would never come out. Was it okay to keep going? Again, he asked with a look instead of words. It was too much to say it out loud. ]