Glacius stares down at the clergyman, taken aback by the visible sadness in his eyes, the fact that it's on his behalf. He's not sure if he's ever seen a human shed tears for him like this... and this open display of sorrow and concern finally helps him realize something very important: Carlisle's devotion to him hasn't changed. He's still doing whatever it takes to assure his safety and recovery as he has done countless times in the past; before, it was healing his hip back when they barely knew each other, putting himself in harm's way as they faced down a fiery abomination based on his own demons and then helping him deal with the resulting guilt, or dragging himself to the alien's apartment even though his own wounds were still fresh and sore. Now, it's traipsing down a flight of stairs with shears stuck in his back just to warn him, or exerting precious energy just to talk him through things despite the way his body is wracked with agony and exertion.

Shaking himself now as he is reminded of new just how important to him Carlisle is, Glacius lowers his head further, then turns it so that he's nuzzling against the human's palm--both in an attempt to reassure him, and claim reassurance for himself. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Carlisle. You're fixing things, just as you have always done... if anything, I should be apologizing for letting that double mar what we have, I was... I was just so afraid that what he said might have even the slightest bit of truth. I don't know what I would do without your friendship, Carlisle, I... I don't want to ever anything that would... make you feel the way he did."

The ice alien has spent so long assuring others in this cave that he'll always be there for them... he's never stopped to think about how badly he might need to hear that from them for himself.