Vincent doesn't cry much, himself. His mom beat that out of him pretty early, and the rest of the world only trampled on any lingering inclinations towards expressing his inner discomfort he may have had. But he's been around a long time, and he's seen plenty of other people upset. Fathers who lose their children. Families who lose homes. Even Robin, a mysterious, ancient creature, sometimes wakes up from those night terrors in such a state of panic that all he can do for a while is sob helplessly into Vincent's chest.

So he thinks he knows what to do. He has to reach out a couple of times to find purchase, not sure exactly where Phalanx is piled up on the ground, but once he finds a shoulder or a leg or something to grab onto, he starts gathering the bundled mess together and pulling it in towards himself.

"Hey, it's okay," he assures them, not for the first time and probably not for the last, "I'm right here. I won't let anything get you."

He doesn't know what he's saying, exactly, nor is he thinking too hard about it. It just seems right to try and comfort them.