What he might have seen was empathy, sorrow for how Aidan was trying to cope. It was never easy, to see a friend in pain. "How many bags are you going through?" he asked, his voice gentle. "And how many is your usual?"
He wanted some kind of guideline to see how bad it was. He still wasn't sure what his blood would do, but if the potency could help, Peter was willing. At least he knew Aidan wouldn't be able to drain him.