[ He frowns at her, once he notices that look – the one that signals she has more to say. He lets her work through it without pressing, though he wants to, impatient bastard that he is. But they both know by now that pressing just makes the both of them clam up. Have to let the other come at it on their own time.

What she says, though, catches him by surprise. Honestly, he had expected more of the same from last night – screaming. Yelling. Telling him just how terribly he had fucked things up for them. He would've let her, of course, would've suffered it until she got it out of her system. He wouldn't have liked it, of course, but he would've dealt with it all the same.

He falls quiet after that, frowning down at his lap, before he lets out a slow breath. ]

You didn't let me down. Told you to watch Bogue, didn't I? Gettin' him in cuffs was the priority.

I wasn't watchin' my back. That's on me. So— it's fine. You didn't do anything wrong.