"That makes no sense," he mutters, dumbly repeating his thoughts because nothing more intelligent is circling his brain. "I don't care about your brothers." As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he winces, acutely aware that that was the wrong thing to say. He has to think before he starts speaking, especially in regards to sensitive subjects. That's what got them in this mess in the first place. His stupid mouth. "I mean, I don't care what they did. Or what you did. That was then, and this is now, and I..."

She sinks to her knees, and if the counter wasn't stopping him from backing up any further, Benedict would be scuttling back in a startled retreat.

"Kate—" He carefully folds her narrow palm in his larger one, his fingers pressing into her skin as she babbles and he stares at her in dumb confusion. "Kate, sweetheart—what are you doing—come here already, get off the floor—"

The sight of her kneeling in front of him is so absurd he doesn't even know what to do with it, so he decides the only thing to do is join her.