Finally breaking out of the little trance he seemed to have fallen into as Aiden swung into action, Mortimer cringed back from the sudden moves and ducked his head a little to avoid a blow that was no longer coming. He watched the sad man turn the other guy's arm about like some kind of doll and watched the orderlies approach them all.
The larger man stepping before him had Mortimer react in a way that he hadn't really done so before; most kids might have hid from Aiden's formidable size and intimidating strength. Normal Mortimer behaviour told him to get down and use his mouth for something fun, for other people, not for him - he wasn't allowed to feel good from it because he wasn't there to feel good, he was there to make others feel good and to think any other way was selfishness in the extreme. He reacted in neither of those ways, instead stepping forward and fisting some of the quiet man's shirt top in his hand, fingers curled, his head ducked down and pressed against the small of Aiden's back as he sought shelter behind the bulk of Aiden's larger body. Deft fingers twisted themselves into body-warmed cloth and hooked themselves in under Aiden's waistband, going no further despite what he'd been taught.
He was nervous about the approaching orderlies, upset that his friend (or so he'd thought) had been about to hit him, still wired from the therapy. He'd found a new friend and was clinging on and not just because the man had come to his aid when he neededn't have done but also because there was something in there that resonated with Mortimer and he wanted to weedle it out and befriend it. No one else heard the little breathy 'Thank you' that ghosted over Aiden's back as Mortimer spoke there, his head still bowed.