After attempting and being unable to roll over and get himself up, Elijah finally realized what could have happened to him if the fight had gone on any longer. Jack was high on adrenaline, but he was still moving like he felt no pain. Groaning, he squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth against the throbbing in his abdomen and chest. Marabelle was caught between looking after her injured son and wanting to beat the tar out of Jack herself. She watched him go from a happy-go-lucky eight year old boy to an awkward and angry teenager then finally to a well rounded man, or so she thought. Pressing her lips into a fine line, she turned her attentions back to Elijah, helping him out of the wreckage of the dining room table. "Come on, Eli. Stand up, honey." She coaxed quietly, getting him to shift his weight and get to his feet. Although unsteady, he was standing, his whole body throbbing in time to his panicked heartbeat. "Let's get you somewhere better to lay down, okay?" With one final glace at Jack, Marabelle shook her head slightly, her disappointment obvious in the actions of the two men.