Ford winces, rubbing his shoulder where blood seeped out, but his hand is removed and replaced with Bill's, the gloved claws covering it and massaging them as Ford sank into the bath water, his blood circling himself as he sunk into it.

"You're a monster." He mutters, hostility seething from his teeth- even as Bill continues to clean and care for him, despite causing this mess.

Bill sighs, his eye narrowing. "Sure I am- what's your point, Sixer?"

Ford turns his head away, staring at the soapy suds and blood in the water, body weak and head fuzzy. Bill took heed of it, and felt something inside of his cold, closed off heart swell up. Anger? frustration? grief? or...maybe.. Guilt. But that's ridiculous- the demon couldn't care less for mortals- let alone Ford. But he did, and he refused to acknowledge it, suppressing its with any rage or hate he had...but it cracked through his heart, slowly, like a mirror with a small weight on it- slowly. cracking.

He definitely wasn't a bleeding heart, but seeing Ford in such a state, because of Him.. It did something.