"S'alright, son," Doc says quietly, giving Malcolm's shoulder a firm squeeze before gently prying the wet fabric away from that fairly deep, nasty cut. "Everything's alright." There's a lot of blood, and Malcolm's hand is pale and a little cold. Yet Doc takes the time to swipe any falling tears away from the tops of Malcolm's cheeks before he throws the new first aid kit open and tries to hold Malcolm's hand steady in his before attempting to poke holes into it.

"We'll dry your tears and patch you up. And everything's gon' be just fine," he promises, the only steady voice and solid presence in an otherwise uncontrolled downward spiral. He gives Malcolm's hand a light squeeze, covering his knuckles, trying to work the sutures quickly and wiping away the bleeding as he goes.