[This so. So much. Not necessarily in terms of words, but just - Jedao was ready, is the thing. He had his arguments prepared, braced against any of a dozen different would-be diplomats trying to fix something that could simply, more kindly be left alone. He was practicing it in his head, drawing that boundary, for when Arthur or Eiffel or Shaw or - Malcolm, on the outside, maybe Norton, came to try and explain Neal's perspective, and ask him to apologize again.

No, he was going to say. I know you mean well, but absolutely not. The more I push the more I'm just going to hurt him, no matter how I try. Until Neal says out loud with his own human mouth that he wants to talk to me, my answer is no.

But here he is.]

You don't need to apologize for hanging up. I...

[His voice sounds a little bit lost.]

I hurt you. Again. I was trying to - do that. To say that I had heard you. But I got it wrong, and - and I don't. Entirely know where I went wrong, this time, but I'm sorry, for that, and. You don't have to explain it and you don't ever have to be sorry for getting away from someone who's hurting you.

You're right, that it shouldn't happen.

[He bites the inside of his cheek for a moment; his blood is as disgusting as ever, viscous and inky. He swallows it down compulsively.]

A thing, about me is - I'm a tactician. That's...what I'm for. Breaking things down. Predicting...paths of escalation, obstacles, counters. Seeing what will work and what won't. I don't know how this will work. But I do think it's worth trying. I didn't...expect you to want me anywhere near it, honestly.

[He laughs, a soft shaky two-breath sound. He's going to get to give Jesus such a smug I-Told-You-So, and he's Shuos enough to enjoy that prospect.]

If you....really want me to be there, then I will.