Anyone would, if they had gone through more pain than he had initially believed, which wasn't an easy feat.
He hadn't even gone anywhere different. It was a quick walk to the store from his dominion, and suddenly he had been jumped. He had been face first in cement, glasses broken, and hands pinned to the ground. Not to mention the knife pressed to his back.
They didn't ask him to do anything; they robbed him, themselves, by picking through all of his pockets, while one of them dug through his bag. They had taken everything, from his wallet, to his laptop, and even the food he had just bought.
And he had thought that the most damage he had gotten was a heavily-bleeding gash on his temple and a slight cut on the bridge of his nose. But it had been the walk home that had done so much more than that.
He was blind, save for the haze of streets and buildings. And it wasn't like he could just call anyone with the phone that he didn't have anymore. But he had made it back, with the help of an angel or two to guide him on his way.
His trembling hand shoved the door open just enough for him to step down without resistance. From there, he could navigate without sight, but that didn't matter when he wasn't the only one in the room. He was just thankful it was dark, and that the game was glowing on his biggest television. It meant that Delsin was occupied.
"Why is this game so hard? I'm soo tempted to just stop playing now." The conduit seethed with a tighter grip on the controller. Sounded like it was getting close to breaking from the frustration.
"...It..might help if you...didn't skip the tutorial.." He mused aloud. He keeps himself hidden by the pillar of technology between them, and uses an old shirt to dab some of the blood away. It just barely works, since the cuts are a little deeper than he'd like to admit.
"Yeah, yeah. This game is dicks." He grumbles. The sound of the controller hitting the floor is a good indication that he's going to be getting up. So Eugene takes his cue to make his way to the bathroom, instead, with the bloody evidence of the encounter earlier still in hand. And though Delsin follows as far as he can, he takes his time, oblivious to the pain the Video Conduit's in.
"So, did you get the food?" Eugene swallowed the lump in his throat. The cut from his glasses is deep, and though it's been a few minutes, it's still lazily bleeding. He dabs at it now that part of his shirt has been soaked with water.
"N-no. They...they declined my card. I came back empty handed…" Not a complete lie, but it's close enough. "What?! So, you mean to tell me that we won't be having food tonight to go with the gaming?"
"W-well," He hisses when a sharp pain runs up through the rest of his face from the dab at his temple. "We've..got some food in the fridge, somewhere. We'll just snack on that for tonight."
But Delsin didn't sound convinced. In fact, Eugene could hear him shift a little to lean in closer to the bathroom door. "Eugene? You okay?"
He's tempted to lie through his teeth. But with him virtually blind, he knows that it won't be the best decision to just try to brush him off. So he opens the door and peeks up through the little opening.
"These guys...three, I think in total, jumped me. T-took everything…" He didn't get to finish, though, as Delsin took the chance to open the door just a little more.
"...And you didn't tell me right when you walked in, because..?"
He bites at his lip. Can't see his facial expression, but he can assume that he knows what it looks like from that tone. "...It...wasn't that bad..
"I…I mean, yeah, it was, but...y'know..the adrenaline and everything..Felt like I couldn't say anything about the subject.."
Delsin audibly sighed. Sounds like he bought the excuse, because he placed his hand on Eugene's shoulder to guide him to sit down on the toilet seat.
"Well, then...try to take a deep breath, gameboy. I'll help to patch you up." And he did. A few pained hisses and grunts and apologies later, he had his nose all bandaged up, and he just needed to get his temple worked on.
"I-I'm sorry, D."
"For?" He asked when he had figured out how to peel part of the bandage from the plastic and correctly place it on the gash to keep it somewhat closed.
"...For the excuses. They stole the food, too."
He stopped his work on the gash. "They...damn it! that food was going to be so satisfying, too." But from how he went back to wiping the blood, it was evident he didn't really care too much about that at the moment.