As she stepped over the rubble, Marcus brushed his hands against his shirt. He was fine. He had no dust on his clothing, but he had Katie on his clothing. No matter how much he brushed at his clothing, the scent was there. No one would question it, but he knew what people said behind closed doors. He had been one of those people before. He wasn't dumb.
Marcus took note of Katie's reaction to the event. It was hardly anything to get upset over. Katie's face and movements said otherwise. Marcus, himself, had never been stuck any where under stone or debris of any sort. He was certain he had the opportunity to be plenty of times, but had lucikly gotten away. He had seen plenty of people killed by debris, though. Marcus could only deduce that her reactions had to do with that.
He considered asking her if everything was all right, prodding into what was on her mind. He could have, now, and perhaps even gotten an answer from her. It was in his nature to prey on the vunerable and rub salt in the proverbial wound. Something wrong, Bell? Don't like a few rocks, Bell? The questions played through his mind fluidly, but they stopped there. They never reached his mouth, and he made sure they wouldn't.
He did; however, take a few steps over to her. Carefully, with a gentleness that was a stranger to Marcus Flint, he placed his fingers against her shoulder. "You all right, then? No damage done?"
How Katie decided to answer, whether it was complex or simple, would be her decision. No matter how much he wanted to dig through that brain of hers and see every moment of uncomfortable pain, he refrained.