"No call to be sorry, lad," Pete said to Jamie, shaking his head gently at him. "Just talk to me. Calmly." Even the dog had come out from his hiding place under the bed, interrupting his nap to see what the brouhaha was all about in his new master's room. He came over and sniffed at Jamie's pant legs, then at Wisdom's, after Jamie closed the door. Pete's eyes never left Jamie, however, and the dog soon lost interest and wandered away again.
Wisdom's brow slowly furrowed further and further in concentration as he looked very closely at every inch of Jamie's face, studying him intently as the man spoke. He listened with concern as he haltingly spoke of his dupe, his fears evident in his tone and demeanor. The deeply analytical face was flooded with compassion. He had not expected Jamie to be affected this deeply. "I won't need him anymore. I promise," he said very carefully in a soft voice. "All right?"
He would have to make notes of the disparate levels of attachment Jamie could develop in regards to his duplicates. This was not what Wisdom had had in mind at all, but he couldn't lie to himself and say it was entirely unexpected. After all, it was literally like sending out pieces of himself into the world, and if he sent out the best pieces of himself and they got lost? What then would remain of him?
"Hey, mate. It's all right," Pete told his friend, reaching up and massaging his shoulders gently as they faced one another. He even smiled, albeit close-lipped and a little tired around the eyes. Pete pitched his voice to soothing, something he rarely did. "If you didn't bloody care too much, you'd be the wrong bloke for the job."