However well Jo tried to know Sam she would never fully understand his way of thinking, how he was more worried about her being upset than himself; as it stood she was as sorry for reminding him as he was for upsetting her, and neither one was at fault there. Jo tried again to school her expression, knowing looking as miserable as she now felt wouldn't do anyone any favors. She could hardly take her eyes off of Sam's scars, but finally managed when he looked down at the shirt he was holding. Nodding, Jo made no other comment or judgement about Sam's struggle with the tangled sweater. Heavens knew she wore complicated enough clothing that she became entangled in them from time to time, depending on how sleepy she was.
Noticing Sam's muscles tensing up Jo's eyes widened, completely unaware of what had brought that on. There was a sort of vertigo in the pit of her stomach, and Jo realized she was actually experiencing slight terror from seeing Sam get triggered like that again, and not knowing why. She managed to get herself together with a deep breath, closing the space between them slowly.
"Gimme." One arm extended in Sam's direction, Jo pulled the shirt from his hands softly. She had younger siblings - and Julian's sister Chloe - and she had disentangled her share of messy shirts. With a few swift movements the fabric of both sleeves was no longer shrugged into their holes. When she was done, Jo looked up at Sam, eyeing his scars upclose with a somber expression. For a little while Jo imagined herself pulling Sam into the tightest hug he'd ever received, and in her little fantasy somehow that would make everything better. That fantasy only lasted a moment, however, as Jo wasn't the daydreaming type. There was nothing she could do about his awful past, but she could try to improve his future, even if in little ways like helping him straighten his laundry. Smiling faintly, Jo held out the straightened out shirt to Sam. "Both sleeves first, head last." She suggested with a small voice.