Delvin lowered his head and took the verbal battering, not taking any of it to heart. He'd heard it all and then some. Accepted it, brushed it off like water from a duck's back, and moved on. The people didn't often mean it, and some didn't even remember it later. He didn't try to restrain Chester---could handle himself if the half-crippled guy came at him---but let him take everything out until he was in a fit of sobs. Looking up, Delvin set the box he was holding on one half of the couch, then grasped Chester's arms, lifting him up. "It's my job to know what I'm getting into, Chester." Delvin said in the voice he was always told sounded like butter, which could probably calm a raging bull if he tried. "No one was talking behind your back, I haven't even met the other carers. But I want you to know right now that I'm not gonna leave you like they did. I can take it."

He steered the man away from the old char, which Delvin was sure he could replace, and sat him down on the couch. "Now, show me the injury so I can take care of it. And tell me about yourself. There's only so much a piece of paper can say and half probably isn't even true anyway." His brothers had always said they hated his saint-like demeanor. That no matter how red-faced and skyrocketed someone could get, pushing right into Delvin's personal space, he could put on a placid expression, lower his head, and nod along with every insult and disgusting threat hurled at him until the person was so worn out they couldn't even speak anymore. He thought he could be a monk, but liked the idea of medicine better.