"Not true," Glacius hisses, the vocalization already causing fresh blood to bubble up out of tortured gills. On one hand, they probably shouldn't be arguing given their respective conditions... on the other, this is a conversation that they should have had a long time ago, considering how seriously they take each other's safety, how they tend to shoulder the blame when things go wrong. This might all be new territory to Carlisle, but the otherworldly being is supposed to be a warrior, a protector. What does it say about him that people keep suffering under his watch?

"The double... only came to you... when I left. Not your fault he got to us," the ice alien continues, shuddering before breaking down into coughing again. His chest aches, his throat and gills feel like they've been flooded with fire, but still he presses on. "Emily's possession... not your fault. But you healed me. Cinder. Not your fault."

And yet on all of those occasions the clergyman was there, despite aural exsiccation, grievous lacerations, or whatever other injuries or burden he suffered as he came to stand by others. No matter what went wrong, he was always a force of good, seeking to mend the hurt that had been imparted. Are you starting to get the picture yet, Carlisle?