[Nods, just barely squeezing his hand before letting go, his hands dropping away as he shifts down towards Keith's leg. He carefully unties his jacket and sets it aside. There's no hesitation as he reaches out to get Keith's pants off-- doesn't want the fabric to get in the way. He's impossibly gentle, being careful not to jostle Keith's leg as he gets the material off, assessing the damage from the shark's bite.]
[Immediately he can tell that it should be cleaned better than it's going to be in a situation like this, but nothing he can do about that. He uses the sleeve of his jacket to clean away as much as he can and then takes a deep breath.]
[He looks back up at Keith and holds out his hand to him.] Take my hand and don't let go.
[Because he's letting his metal hand heat up with energy, this time hesitating-- but only for a moment, waiting until Keith's holding onto his free hand, before planting his metal hand down firmly against Keith's thigh, to close up the wound.]