To Samantha, it seemed only obvious that he was sitting outside her window because he wanted her attention. It was hard to imagine anything but that, really. It was that alone that had her crawling out onto the fire escape to sit with him. She was taken aback momentarily by the way he stepped away from her. Standing closer to him, she could feel the fear and paranoia and apprehension that he had. She could feel the way that he struggled to get it under control. She watched his squirming form settle, watched him try to get a hold on his emotions. But even if he could have hid his emotions from her, she felt them in the first place. And if something had made her apathetic boyfriend feel that, she had to worry. She couldn't help but let out a sigh as he flinched away from her hand. "I'm trying to help, Aiden," She whispered quietly as she moved to unclasp the spiked silver collar. She couldn't imagine why anyone would put it on him - perhaps an angry Hunter? The anger that she felt towards whoever did this was overwhelming, and for a moment Samantha merely had to stand there and control her breathing.

But then she got it under control and she sat beside him, stroking his fur and trying to coax some semblance of calm into his system. She could do it so easily if she chose, but no, she would never use her powers on him again. Not unless he asked her to, and even then she wasn't sure if she could do it. She could feel his apprehension to her touch, and it took effort to remind herself that he was fearful, that it was nothing personal. It was only after several moments of stroking his fur did she suggest that he follow her inside the apartment. She rose reluctantly - she didn't want to let go of him at all - to go back into the apartment.

She was glad that he followed her, even if he did sit still in his Were form. She didn't react to it, at least not yet. Instead she went to flick the light on before she returned to his side. It was in that light she could see the scorched skin around his neck and down his back. It was grotesque, the way that his skin looked. And yet she merely leaned down to place a kiss on top of his head before she left his side once again. She returned moments later, her first aid kit in tow with a wet wash cloth in her hand. She knelt down beside him again, gently pressing the cloth to the wound on his neck. While both wounds looked awful, that one seemed to need the most attention.

"I can't talk to you when you're in this form, babe," She said very softly, her blue eyes rising to meet his green ones. One hand continued to hold the cloth against his skin while the other hand rose to stroke at his fur. "I... I want to know what happened. But if you don't want to talk about it, we don't have to. But you really should shift so that I can really clean these wounds. They're not wounds from a fight. It's silver. They need to be treated. That's what you told me when I got my iron burn, did you not?"