Standing before Nate, Isaac was having a hell of an argument with himself. He scrubbed the palms of his hands against his face, grinding his teeth in his frustration.

He dropped down in to a kneel in front of Nate after giving himself a severe mental scolding, grabbing him by the arms so he could drag him back up. "You're just a son of a bitch, aren't you?" Funny thing was, he wasn't sure who he was talking to- himself, or Nate.

Isaac supported his weight, dragging him along as he struggled to think of something to do with him. He didn't see any medics nearby and he didn't know where to find any. He wasn't a doctor, either, so he had no clue what needed to be done to patch Nate up. The only thing he could come up with was the locker room- earlier, a girl had told him there were sometimes things in there. Maybe he could find something useful, whether it was a damn bandage or an emergency contact system of some kind.