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“She’ll come to you when she’s ready.”
He mulled it over for just thirty minutes before he couldn’t bear it anymore. The thought that she could be injured, needing him while he just sits and waits. He won’t disturb her, he’ll just check on her, that’s all.
She wasn’t too hard to find. As soon as he neared her workshop where she spends so much time tinkering away he heard a cry echo off of the metal walls. He picked up the pace and once she came into view he all but ran to her side. She looked wrecked, there was blood on her hands and her thigh and a smear on her face likely from the way she grabs herself in her meltdowns. He grabbed her hand that held the stapler and when she made to yank it away from him he pulled her into an embrace.
She instantly melted into his hold, sobs wracking her frame and her tears dampening his suit. She’s rambling into his chest but it’s so frantic and muffled that he can’t understand her. Her fingers clench and unclench in the lapels of his coat several times as she incomprehensibly rants.
Minutes pass of him just petting her hair or back soothingly while she slowly calms down. The staple gun falls to the ground which brings him back to his first concern. “Let me help?” He asks, trying not to push but unable to ignore such an injury. She nods against him with an inhale before pulling away. Her face is covered in tears and snot that she no doubt rubbed all over his expensive vest but he’s dealt with this many times before and it no longer bothers him as it once had years ago.
She sits down in her chair with a faraway look in her eyes. He hates that, where has she gone? Despite her mental distance, she does spread her legs for him to get a better look at the gash across her thigh. He refrains from grimacing at the uneven few staples she managed on her own and kneels before her. “Have you cleaned it?” She looks ashamed and he takes that as a no and pulls out his flask and handkerchief. Dabbing at the site makes her wince but she allows him to disinfect it properly as she knows she should have done herself in the first place. She doesn’t however offer up anything about how she got the wound or what set her off so badly. It bothers him but he lets it go, she’ll tell him when she’s ready like Sevika said.
Silco holds the flesh together while lining up the stapler. He pauses to look up at her with a soft expression and asks, “ready?” She nods and grits her teeth, he does them as neatly and quickly as he can. Click. Click. Click. Click. He sets it down but doesn’t move just yet. “You can always ask me for help, Jinx. I’ll never judge you regardless of how you receive injury. I care about your safety above all else.” Jinx pulls her uninjured leg up to rest her chin atop her knee. He places a chaste kiss on the other knee and only then does he stand back up. She takes his hand and pulls it to her cheek, still flushed and wet with tears but she’s much more present with him.
He swiftly hushes her when she begins to apologize, “you have nothing to apologize for. Not to me. Never to me.”