There wasn't even a twitch on Angel's face when Alastor shirt was pulled free, revealing what was underneath. Man... he could see why the radio demon didn't want him to say anything. Angel always could tell that the deer was wicked thin under his clothes, but in his many fantasies, to which there was many, he never imagined how badly scarred he was. Were these all caused by people after his death? Just shows much he was hated and feared. It made him... sad. But damn, if he said that scars weren't sexy he would be lying. Okay fine, there was one sexy thought. What? He was only human!

Angel adjusted his seat so that Alastor was firmly between his legs. Gingerly he reached out to pick up Alastor's arm on his badly wounded side to rest it on his shoulder. "Put your arm here. It'll get tired if you hold it up by yourself while I wash out that wound. Now this might sting."

The spider cautioned as he took the damp towel to start wiping the skin around the wound first, clearing it of blood and debris.