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Jaskier was singing in the tavern almost immediately after the whole incident, Yennefer had completely cured his voice and he took it upon himself to jump headfirst back into using it to its fullest potential. He picked songs that showcased his vocal range and even changed some to show off. An avid listener wouldn't have even been able to tell that something had happened to the bard's voice to begin with.
Geralt could tell though, and it wasn't because of his witcher hearing.
It was in the way Jaskier actually sang and not in his technical ability. There was something still wrong with him because the way he sung like it hurt him to do so wasn't the Jaskier Geralt knew. He didn't immerse himself in the songs like usual, but it looked like he was trying to escape in them. Failing to do so when he was surrounded by people. There'd be flickers, when it looked like the bard went somewhere else and muscle memory took over, but then he'd come back more alert. All things only Geralt could see, unbeknownst to the crowd he was playing for.
It was his fault.
He shouldn't have let Jaskier get so close. He should have stopped the Djinn sooner. He should have stopped Jaskier from messing with the amphora to begin with. He was the monster that Jaskier had been trying so hard to show him he wasn't.
They locked eyes, he and the bard, but not with Jaskier realizing it. He was in one of those flickers when they made eye contact. His eyes looked more gray than the bright blue Geralt was used to seeing. He hated it.
He hated that he was on the complete opposite side of tavern, and that it was filled with people who served only to obstruct his view of the bard. He hated that he couldn't get closer- didn't want to get closer.
Geralt wasn't eating nor drinking because he feared his hands coming into view and still seeing Jaskier's blood upon them. Blood that had gone everywhere when it was just supposed to be inside the bard. He could almost still feel it.
Jaskier had held so tightly onto Geralt the entire night they waited for the gates to open, and he had let him. It was only at the crack of dawn - and at Geralt's behest - that Jaskier let go. Geralt helped him down some medicine with featherlight touches on his skin, afraid to hurt him further. But Jaskier clung anyways.
The bard was so full of love, so convinced of Geralt's ability to protect him, and yet the witcher knew he didn't deserve it.
No matter how deeply Jaskier cared for Geralt, he could not offer the same back because Geralt was a witcher, and Jaskier a human. All of the bard's love was given in vain to Geralt.
But he was selfish. The witcher life wasn't meant for humans, it was too dangerous. Geralt knew it'd be best if he left the bard, if they didn't travel together anymore, but he couldn't stand the thought of it. He had done everything in his power to reverse the damage of the Djinn, and now he was hesitant to do the only thing that could prevent something like this to happen again. Because he had let himself become friends with Jaskier. He had been so selfish. Vesemir taught him better than this.
The guilt gnawed at him continuously, even now that the worst of it was over. And Geralt doesn't want to say it out loud, but there was more than just guilt there.
He had thought Jaskier to have been the Djinns master by the way his medallion had vibrated with the spoken wishes. He should have known that wasn't the case somehow. He especially should have realized when the Djinn attacked Jaskier that the bard wasn't the master, and instead he was. It took him too long to come to that realization. But that's not all he was beating himself up over.
He's pretty sure Jaskier died.
Jaskier's heart tended to beat a little too fast for a human but not fast enough to be anything else, and it wasn't due to being in a constant state of fear or anxiety - no those could get Jaskier's heart up to a rate that sounded far too fast to be healthy - it was just something Geralt's noticed about the bard. Of course, it would drop when he slept, so it hadn't worried Geralt too much when Jaskier's heart was beating slower than usual.
But Geralt's pretty sure the bard's heart stopped beating at one point. He had cursed himself that there was always another obstacle, always something to delay the bard getting treated and then, he was sure it was too late. It all sounded so impossible now given the fact that Jaskier was alive and playing in the tavern right in front of him. He couldn't deny what he had felt though and now it did nothing more than scare Geralt- both then and now.
So Geralt was scared. Guilt-ridden and terrified. That's not a usual set of emotions for a witcher to be experiencing, especially not in tandem. But that's what happens when you care for someone, especially someone as fragile as a human. He'd keep feeling this way he's sure, as long as Jaskier traveled with him. And probably beyond then too, but the bard was never in more danger than when he was with Geralt. And he'd bare everything he had to, if it'd keep the bard safe.
Yennefer saddled up next to him then.
"Admiring my handiwork?" She asked and Geralt had to stop himself from wrinkling his nose at the implication. He was, still, too focused on the bard to give Yennefer the attention she so craved for. He's sure she could sense that.
"He almost lost all that because of me," Geralt started not for the first time. "He loves me despite everything. He feels safe around me like I can protect him from anything, but I'm the reason he got hurt in the first place."
"All this guilt can't be good for you." Yennefer's hand guided Geralt's face away from Jaskier and towards her. "Come away with me, to Vengerberg."
And he did.
For six months he did.