Thomas pushed himself up with a fluid grace that made cats jealous and humans envious. He watched Justine closely, battling with an inner instinct that demanded he go to her side and carry her away from her pains, and the other half that said let her have her dignity. She wasn't helpless and while she knew Thomas could very well whisk her away in a heartbeat, and would, she had resolutely gotten herself to her feet and held onto that cane.
Grey eyes swept over her, then Thomas sank back into his game face of utter neutrality. He fell into step beside her, careful not to brush her though he desperately wanted to take her hand. He didn't help her, necessarily, with overt care or concern but he was alert behind his mask of casual uncaring.
Anything could happen. And anything could come for him or her and he'd be damned--well he was damned anyway--if something harmed Justine. He ignored the part that reminded him he'd been the one to hurt her first, and focused instead on the brightness of her smile. It warmed him.
"The car is this way," he gestured casually, "it's a bit of a walk.." he made it more a question than anything.