Don't believe in no-win scenarios

When Felix returns he's... well, he thinks he's go himself under control. But his face is pale, his heart hammering faster than it has any warrant to. He's too quiet as he sits down again, shuffling close to start unbuckling that armor. He tries, though. Remembers to murmur to Jim now and then. Even tries to joke a little. Once.

"Come on, let's get that off you. It's not your look anyway..." He fumbles his way through each stay and fastening, then helps Jim try to pull the armor off over his head. Has to do it twice, because he forgot to undo a couple of fastenings. Finally the armor's dumped aside, followed by the bloodied undershirt. His hands linger on Jim's skin as he works, squeezing his arms and stroking his back with the need to reassure them both.

"Should get you cleaned up," he mumbles, not knowing why that thought fills him with dread. "Want to try the shower? Or I'll just take care of you..." He really doubts Jim can manage a shower, to tell the truth. But he'll help- he has to. The tightness in his chest doesn't matter, it's what Jim needs.