"I am sorry." It's muttered, stubborn. His hair's in his face but he doesn't look at Carter, his eyes cast off somewhere to the side. He knows he's glaring at him by just the sound of his voice.

"...I don't know what I expected." That's surprisingly honest. There was a part of him that knew that Carter might be here, and another part that said it was impossible for him to still be around. "You made it, though. You're here."

This time he does look up at Carter, he doesn't have a right to be angry here, but it still comes through. "If I took you with me and Hardison, Moreau would have had us killed. I couldn't protect the both of you against all of his men, and we woulda lasted an entire day. Maybe two. I saved your life."