"I'm sorry about your friend." It hadn't been just Anastasia. There were too many who hadn't made it, either in the building or after in the theater. There were more than one who had died from the injuries they had left the scene with, people that couldn't be helped but was put to a more comfortable sleep. If he had learned more healing, could he have been more helpful, saved more people? Maybe. It wasn't helpful to think about, he knew, but it would be something that consumed him later.
One hand came up to push hair away from Joseph's face, a gentle motion. "I was worried you..." He had to swallow around those words, skip them and move on. "I'm glad I was busy." If it hadn't been for Bruno dragging him down stairs, he might have wring his hands to pieces or paced a hole in the floor. Or just lost it a little.
He looked away then, towards the water, using it as an excuse so Joseph couldn't fully see his face for a second. The tub was only half full, the room filling with some steam already. He wished heavily he was better at hiding his emotions but that might take longer than he'd been alive so far. "If I ever meet the man who carried you out... I don't know how I'd thank him." He'd heard the stories of the giant kindred who'd run out with his lover in his arms moments before the building fully collapsed. If he didn't know better, wasn't as involved, he might have thought it was a part of some action movie.