Sorry, overlooked this one accidentally.
As happiness sapped from her features, so did all the energy in his eyes and frame. The scarred man knew Geneva was sick, ill with the same disease that had taken her father and the man that had served Jefferson's role for her before the cyclops had come around. Watching her suffer with no means of helping her was a taxing trial on the Patriarch's part; knowing he was powerless in her struggle, despite all the power he had held and managed over Phoenix Valley for so long, was a wall he had not come across in some. To stand idly by, watching the pain and suffering of another — and the one he loved, no less — was simply just something that wrenched his heart.
Jefferson could only guess at what she was referring to in her words, but to know Lucifer had caused it brought a burning rage to his chest in addition to his twisting, sickened stomach. His eye dipped a moment, bottling up his anger and calming it in her presence; she was not strong enough to handle the blunt of his fury she had grown so used to dealing with. No, not anymore.
"I see," he replied, turning eye to her once more. His voice, stony and dark, seemed to crawl from the deepest shadows of his throat. "Explain."
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