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[ Jon's initial reaction is to want to pull the arm away, but instead he simply looks down at it. Just what... Is it with this man. ]

Why... Are you doing this?

[ Obviously he could have just stayed with Tony and Tony likely would have been happier with someone competent to... look out for him. Jon has already proven how unqualified he is for the task. The fact that they are having this conversation remains proof enough. ]

[He is a nice guy with too much guilt and pain and suffering in his conscious to think there is anything good out there for him. Nothing more complicated than that.]

Experience. I’m not the person anyone chooses when there are alternatives. Not in this field. Too serious, too married to the work, too negligent of myself.

[ Reeve, you could just as well have just described Jon. With the differences being that Jon lacks your immaculate beard, manners looks like a piece of roadkill and happens to be a fear devouring monster. ]

...I...

...I don’t know what to say.

[ And now part of him wants to apologize... ]

[Even when he forgets to wash his clothes, he always remembers to tend his beard. Thank you for noticing. But Reeve doesn’t know to say that. So instead the hand that alighted on Jon’s forearm patted the limb lightly, and he smiled at Jon. Soft and warm and kind. How could he do anything else.]

Say you will talk to him. That you’ll at least do that so you don’t have to wonder. And that you will take care of your hand properly. If I had any healing materia I would fix it right up, but I doubt a replicator could give me that back.

And get some sleep, even if it is only in a chair at our friend’s bedside, because I promise he will try to escape otherwise.

[ He wants to flinch away, yet doesn't. Instead, he looks down at his own, still wrapped up hand. He wouldn't require any healing if he had bothered enough to properly remove every glass splinter he had pushed into his palm. But he hadn't. Having opted instead to leave pieces of glass in his hand as punishment for his own foolishness. Which has yet been another foolish thing to do.

He lets out a heavy sigh, then nods. ]

Fine... fine. I will talk to him. And...

[ He gestures lightly with the wrapped-up hand. Sleep he can't promise. Instead, he glances up at the other man. ]

What about you?

What about me?

[The question is confused. Like Reeve can’t even begin to understand the question.]

What are you going to do?

[ He sort of expects there to be some sort of grudge towards him in the future. ]

Still be his friend. Talk to him. Work with him.

[Why would that change? That would be silly.]

Leave it to him to make any decisions he might choose to make. But I’m a grown man. I am more than equipped to handle a bit of heartache. I have experience with it.

Christ, I'm a grown man and you're making me feel like an unruly teenager.

[ Is that just the effect Reeve has on people? Is that his appeal? The experience? The patience? The understanding...?

Maybe he can't exactly... Well. Blame Tony. ]

[Yes, this is indeed part of the appeal. There is also part of him that appeals to those people who wish to take care of an idiot who doesn't sleep or eat regularly enough. That's why in the village not one but two young women had adopted him, making sure he did things other than work.

But for now he only kept smiling, absolutely patient.]

Forgive me for the presumption, but I've a feeling this is either the first time you've had an interest like this in someone before, or it's been a very long time since you have. It makes us all a touch unruly, opening our heart, or reopening it. It's a muscle, after all. When it hasn't been used in a certain way in a while, it tends to be a bit easier to strain.

I....

[ Yeah, he's looking away now, but the bandaged hand still shifts up to where that unruly muscle in question still refuses to bother him. ]

...I have been good at-... At avoiding. Getting attached.

[ Jon has spent years setting up those walls of distinctly rude behavior to keep people away. Walls that had started to crumble even before he was pulled to this planet. It's those cracks that may have made him vulnerable again and allowed Tony to fully tear down what has been about to shatter for some time. ]

It happens to the best of us, and the worst, and many people in between.

[His hand on Jon's arm squeezes lightly, the same sort of comforting gesture he would give Tony.]

And he seems to be the sort of person that inspires reaction. Which is why you should tell him. Because otherwise... Otherwise how do you live with the weight of it? Carrying it in your heart, with no hope of relief? That will eat at a man from my experience. Better to speak and earn nothing than to be silent and hurt more for it. And if you get rejected, then that's just a wound, and wounds heal in time. An unspoken feeling is an untreated sickness, it may never go. But a wound? Those can heal. And perhaps it will not be a wound.

[No would should have to carry the weight of such pain for long.]

Something tells me that even if you two see your relationship differently, he isn't the sort to deny a friendship and all it was before that point. And if he does? Well, we'll both just not talk to him for being rude.

[ The squeeze draws Jon's attention to the other man's hand and his eyes linger on it as he listens to his words.

He's right. Of course he's right. But that won't make it any easier. Because a wound like that hurts. It hurts more than a burn. More than any physical wound. And yet... Reeve is right.

Jon swallows the knot in his throat, ignored the slight flare of embarrassed heat around his ears, and nods before answering in a voice that feels too small. ]

...right.

[ Is he scared? Yes. But here is a man that has all right and reason to be mad at him offering his support. So it's with the vaguest smile and a hand crudely bandaged up that Jon reaches over to touch upon the hand that has been captivating his attention only moments ago. ]

Thank you.

[Well the touch in response earns a warming to Reeve’s smile, and a nod.]

Of course. Now... do you need time? Or perhaps someone to escort you back, try and keep your courage up to talk to him? I’m told I prattle on rather well.

[And he didn’t mind that. If he could comfort another for a spell, he will do so. It’s part of his job in his own mind. To build a world, one must first care for the people in it.]

I don’t mind a bit more exercise. You find you need it more when you aren’t roving back and forth over fifteen floors a day and disdain the elevator. And I haven’t been home in a while yo do that routine.

I, ah....

[ Jon hesitates for a moment, then simply nods down towards his hand. ]

I will be fine. [ Not quite as assuring as he would like. ] Just want to take care of this first. But I... Wouldn’t mind some company for the way to the hospital.

[ Maybe not all the way to Tony’s room. The chance of running into him on the way there, roaming the halls, still exists... ]

I'd be happy to escort you to the building itself.

[But no further. Running into Tony right now wasn't... well, it wasn't something Reeve relished, after being dismissed. Better if he just let the two have the space and time that they clearly required to discuss things. Or not discuss things. Reeve was by no means able to compel two adults to take care of their own needs and emotional complications.]

You won't need me past there, I expect. Though at some point I shall have to return to regain my sketch book and pencils. I had come to entertain him while he was tied to the bed, so to speak.

[ Jon gives a short nod and pulls back his hand, turning to walk over to his desk as he begins to remove the crude bandages to reach the barely cleaned up mess underneath. ]

This shouldn’t take long, but....

[ But he’d rather not worry Tony too much once he gets back to him. ]

Do you need any help? I may not be a physician, but I've a good eye for small components and a steady hand.

[Of course he's going to offer to help. He's the reason Jon is hurt.]

Oh, I....

[ His first impulse is to decline the offer, even as he removes the hurried bandaging job and looks over the cut and upset flesh, shard and splinters of glass by this point pushed deep enough inside to make them a little troublesome to remove.

So after a moment of contemplation, he puts the used bandages on his desk and turns back around to Reeve, offering the hand out towards him. ]

I believe that might be for the best. I... did a rather poor job while upset.

Don't we all?

[He moves to sit across the desk from Jon, carefully cradling the hand in his. The light, though, it's not enough for him to work by very well, he wants something better.]

Mini?

[The stuffed animal that had to this point been still in his bag dove deeper into it, and soon came up holding two things awkwardly between its paws. The first was a small box of tools, the other a small but high powered light. Reeve reached to the bag without taking his eyes off of Jon's hand and lifted the stuffed animal by its scruff to place it on the desk. The box was soon open to reveal a sewing kit, and the stuffed animal flipped on the light, stood up, and held it over Jon's hand to give Reeve light.]

We'll see about getting this all cleaned up.

[Tweezers in hand and offering soft, soothing noises that had no real words to them, he starts into the work, carefully pulling shards and splinters out, one small piece at a time.]

[ At least having the glass pieces removed isn’t as unpleasant as having a few dozen parasitic worms pulled out with a corkscrew. Jon will still flinch at the more stubborn pieces even though half of his attention is on that animated plush toy. He still doesn’t know where to place that one, but... It appears to be useful? ]

Do you always carry those tools...?

[ Jo asks idly, his compulsion absent from the question. Though the wounds left behind by the removed glass shards are beginning to close up the moment the irritating objects are being removed. Which is just the reason why Jon hasn’t really touched them. ]

[Magic: it’s strange and moves in weird ways. Reeve, however, moved methodically, carefully. He finishes pulling out the current shard before speaking, not really bothered by how ticket the man is healing. When you knew Soldiers and Vincent, you took that strangeness in stride.]

These and more. I’m working on structural studies of the extant buildings, and determining which can be safely salvaged from. Thus the light and a few other tools. All of my replicator rations go to tools or paper supplies. The sewing kit I learned to carry after Mini’s previous body was damaged. So far we have been very careful with this one, though I suppose in time I will have to replicate matching fabrics or ask that boy Billy for some so I can make him more nimble hands. That will wait until Tony has helped me with the new internal systems for him.

I see...

[ Sounds like someone is keeping busy, at least. And makes an effort to be useful.

Jon casts a look over to the plush cat, inclining his head a little at it while keeping his hand steady until Reeve is finished with it. ]

What exactly is the purpose of this anyway...?

What is the purpose of any living thing?

[Another shard out. Without even being asked Mini moves a bit to shine the light at another angle. And the way it looks to Jon and tilts it’s head might be cute. Which isn’t what Mini intends. He doesn’t approve of Jon. But he won’t fight Reeve about it.]

I could offer a suggestion, but it's the sort of question that invites extensive debate.

[ And as much as he can enjoy a good debate, he'd rather not do it without tea - Or more pressing matters on his mind.

He shifts his eyes back towards his hand to continue watching the other man work. Maybe another day, though. ]

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