Patrice nearly darts over to Desmond as the glass shatters, but everything moves too fast and all he's got are three scalpels, anyway, so what's he going to do? His hands fall away from his mother's as he straightens, his entire frame stiff. There's a strange impulse to get a broom and clean up the mess, but there's no point.

"You're alright, Des? What is even-" he stops short as Presley curses and he turns quickly, worried until he realizes it's just a cut on his finger. "Shit. Well. The pen Mom is holding is what we need to find, but she won't let go."