Tommy nodded jerkily as his dad spoke, glancing up at his neck to make sure that there was still no blood there. There wasn't. Good.
He took a very shuddery deep breath and took a few paces towards his dad - he could help this time? Maybe? - but his legs were as unsteady as the rest of him, and he wound up sitting down on the floor very abruptly. He had enough presence of mind to gesture at his dad's arm, a simple enough spell that he'd used plenty of times when making models and holding parts together until the glue cured, and put just enough pressure onto the area around the cut to help stop the bleeding. And then he clamped his arms round his head, hands clasped at the back of his neck, and tried hard not to freak out any more.