"I don't know why," he says. "But you need to put pressure on him to stop the bleeding." He then proceeds to practically slam himself into a wall trying to get over to the linen closet. He's recovering from being poisoned, and sitting down all day has helped (though the reading's been hell on his eyes), but now that he's up and about his head is starting to get the familiar feeling of wooziness. It hits him pretty fast.

He brings over towels, some bandages meant for smaller wounds, an old shirt he hasn't gotten tailored, some cotton, and a clean pail to fill with water. Unceremoniously, he dumps it all to the floor by Tony's bed, since his vision's gone temporarily blurrier and it's giving him a headache. He thinks he's louder than he is when he says, "I'm going to fill the bucket with water and get some honey. Just keep pressure on anything bleeding. We might need to cut him out of his clothes."

He leaves to go do these things, and slides on back in, splashing a little water on the carpet.