Quietly Ace finishes her second patch job of the night, and examines her work. It'll hold, at least. She's not sure what to do about the blood.

She sighs as she looks down at Raven. She can't ask him to be more careful - for one, it's hypocritical as hell, and for another, it wouldn't help. He does what needs to be done.

It can't be comfortable sleeping there.

Tucking his coat under her arm, she (with a bit of difficulty, he's bloody heavy) picks him up and carries him towards the bed. Beds have to be better than the floor. Right?