"I only have to save you because I'm the one who put you in danger in the first place!"

One hand goes for Carlisle's middle; the other splays in frustration, his fingers twitching as his embittered remorse eats him alive. He grinds his teeth, his hands moving again, clenching at his head. Stop.

But he fights even that. Despite their time together, he's still not fully used to understanding in light of his weaknesses, of compassion when others should be concerned about him, about what he can do to them. Maybe's it's the headache, but he can't understand why Glacius can't see that -- why he hasn't pushed him away. Carlisle certainly would have, in his place.