[Connor looks off into the distance for a moment, eyes slightly unfocused.]

He won't wake up yet. [Then, realizing that sounds ominous as shit:] Sorry, I mean. He's still sleeping. Do you need help with anything else? I'm already gory as shit.

[He's actually not. His hands are nearly clean except for the smearing of blood on his fingertips from the actual process of sewing. Sometimes, your weird musical theatre powers mean you don't actually get blood on you because there's no blood budget. Don't worry about it.]