At this point, a lesser man may have accepted the WE TRIED sticker for his effort here and quite simply left the scene; Kimblee, on the other hand...well, he strongly considers accepting that glowing trophy made of peeling gold and comic sans font and storming off, but he manages to refrain.

Somehow.

What a trainwreck.

"Isaac." His voice is quiet, such as not to cause a scene, but there's a definite firmness to his tone; again, it's not cruel - it's just a way to establish control over the situation. He has this. Everything is fine.

He steps toward him, closing a bit of the proximity between them; he reaches out, laying a gloved hand lightly on Isaac's arm without trying to pull him closer. "It's all right; you can relax. There's no need for that."