Vincent righted himself, brushing himself off. He walked over to the discarded gun at his brother's feet and bent to retrieve it. He didn't hesitate, as he gently placed his free hand over Gilbert's own, slightly trembling hand, clenching the front of his shirt. He used great care in his actions, using gentle motions to softly pry Gilbert's fingers off the wrinkled fabric. He stepped closer, his eyes focused intensely on Gilbert's.

His usually harsh facial features had softened completely, and he squeezed Gilbert's hand slightly. "I'm fine, Gil." He said slowly, making sure Gilbert was listening. "See?" He shrugged, like it was nothing. "I saw what happened. Cheshire put you through quite a bit."