There's a joke, maybe, half formed on the edge of his mind when the way Viktor leans catches his attention. And he realizes -- "Oh!" He's using an old cane. Jayce isn't sure really how that sort of thing works, health science isn't his field. But if it's old, maybe it's the wrong size. The wince didn't look comfortable.

With a hand at Viktor's back, Jayce leads him to the closest chair and gestures for him to sit, then goes to grab them a few bottles of water from their fridge. And two of the sandwiches. Might as well eat, while they're thinking of it.

"I need to get those measurements from you," he calls over the shoulder. "I owe you a new cane, after yours bravely sacrificed itself the other night. And don't say I don't!" he adds, before Viktor can protest, heading back over to their desks with the food and water. "If it weren't for your cane, we wouldn't be where we are today."