"You shouldn't regret it; he needed to die. I shouldn't have..." He drops his arm just to raise it again to gesture at the scene behind them. "I shouldn't have put you in a position to... have to choose."

He hates that these are only her memories, and not his as well; he hates that he can't tell her with absolute certainty what he was thinking and why. He hates that he doesn't know what good, if any, was interspersed in the time between this memory and when his memories end.

"You did the best you could. I didn't... I can't say that I know why but I have a guess." He doesn't know if telling her now would be best, though, and yet his feet carry him closer to her anyway. "But I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I forced you to choose, and I'm sorry I tried to stop you." He takes a breath, sniffs. "I'm not angry with you, you know." He thinks it would take a lot more uneven sort of behavior from her for him to be upset with her. This is... this is different.

This is squarely on his shoulders. But he can't ask her forgiveness, not yet.