Viktor thinks he's more angry than sad. The sheer injustice of it still hurts, and he feels so powerless in the face of everything that all he can really feel is a slow-burning rage. Still, he's too exhausted to properly act on it, leaving him feeling generally useless. Jayce is trying to help in all the ways that he knows, and Viktor wishes that it was enough.

But there isn't anything either of them can do about the circumstance they're in. At the very least, he tries to gain solace in the fact that he isn't facing it alone. Jayce's story about the children manages to get a smile out of him, in spite of everything.

"It sounds like they needed it." And, as always, it's such a kind sentiment that he can't help but soften his expression, fondness welling up in him. "You helped them. That's not stupid."

But he thinks Jayce understands that, despite everything. Viktor stays on the chair for a little longer, finishing with his leg brace and pulling his shirt off. He's less concerned about where his clothes end up, leaving a trail of them across the kitchen floor as he makes his way to the bathroom. By the time he gingerly hobbles into the doorway, he's just in his brace and underwear, the skin around the leather red and chafed. Viktor sinks down into a stool and starts working on it, latch by latch, just wanting to be near Jayce as he does so.