[he squeezes his hand, gently, before pushing to his feet. He'll retrieve an ice pack and a broom, handing the former off to Edward before sweeping up the shattered plate with the latter. He just...he needs a moment to think. Because as much as he really deeply feels like he's having a meltdown, internally, he just....he can't think about this now. He can't think about what might've given Edward that bruise. He can't think about if it could've been worse. He can't think about if Edward might not've come home at all. He can't--
--and the noise of ceramic hitting the floor jolts him, slightly. Some of the pieces have dropped from the dust pan that he's been holding. And Oswald sucks in a breath, and quickly finishes cleaning that up, blinking very rapidly, trying not to let his hands shake]
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--and the noise of ceramic hitting the floor jolts him, slightly. Some of the pieces have dropped from the dust pan that he's been holding. And Oswald sucks in a breath, and quickly finishes cleaning that up, blinking very rapidly, trying not to let his hands shake]