[ yeah, the fussiness is pretty usual, so he didn't think too deeply in it. at least it was still over something petty, if annoying.

he stands when anderson does, slowly, one hand gripping at his arm only in part because he needs to. anderson is warm, which is something he doesn't usually notice too much, but right now it's... good.

sighing, he starts off toward the bathroom, kicking off his boots on the way with thankfully little teetering since he's doing it mid-movement. ]

I'm not sure. I've never been dead longer than a split-second before, so that might be it.

[ so yeah, his body is kind of struggling to recuperate, since there's no blood flow or anything to keep him going or kickstart him again. warming him up will definitely help.

he hums, noncommittally, but nods. ]

I'd rather not just sink to the bottom of the tub, so yes.

[ he is, at least, Okay enough to disengage and turn off the tap once they get to the bathroom. then he's fumbling with his belt and trousers, eyeing the bubbles in the tub. okay, he's not generally a bath guy for obvious reasons, but it still looks nice. thankfully, there aren't any other scars hiding on his body: it's just the one that killed him.

he's gonna climb into the tub first, so hurry up, buddy. potential drowning is likely imminent. ]