Seamus shifted his eyes back to Greg and put his fingers to his lips. He ended up just being so distracted that he bit his own finger and blood dripped down the back of his hand. He was a mess. He knew it. "I... I need you to stop me. When I get there. From doing anything to hurt him. You have to fucking stop me if I lose my shit. I promised Jett I wouldn't hurt him, and I promised Luka the same. I told him I didn't want to hurt him and I've done it anyway." He didn't remember what it felt like to be physically sick, but he was pretty sure this had to be somewhere in the realms of it. It was more than a little bit unnerving that he felt something wrong with Luka before he even realised what it was. He appreciated the confirmation from Greg, but it just made him feel so much more worse.

The blood from his finger had dripped down to the cuff of his sleeve, the dark red garish against the light colour of the shirt. If this was really happening, what was supposed to come next? Greg wanted to be Embraced, but Luka didn't have to be. At the very least, so they didn't have a repeat of the Asher situation, it would be better to try to get some therapy for all the pain and suffering he was carrying around with him. He put his finger back to his mouth, lapping his tongue over the bite to heal it, but he didn't clean up the blood. For some reason, he kept looking at the blood at his wrist, then to Greg, but his eyes went back to his wrist... and that was when it hit him, and his other hand gripped around his wrist as he looked at it in horror.