[His motions slow slightly at that sign, which really does look a little bit dismissive. The amendment is an enormous relief; it actually kind of shocks him how much of one it is.]

Is it OK?

[He tips Cesar's face up a little more, squinting, examining the bleeding. For such a notorious germaphobe, Lazarus is surprisingly good with dealing with injuries. Goodness knows he's had enough of his own.]

I mean... can you...?

[It's truncated. He glances down at Cesar's hands, taking the wrist of his less-injured one and raising it toward his face.]

Hold this here. I'm just going to the sink to wash my hands before getting some Neosporin on these scratches.

[He stands, starting toward the row of sinks.]