Surprising. Surprising enough that it shows, visibly, behind the mask of control he wears so carefully, hands hanging without purpose for a moment in front of him, as if half-warding off some strange creature.

For a long moment, there is nothing to be heard but the crackle of the fire. The sound of wind in branches, like a susurration of anticipation.

"Do you want absolution?" he states, voice dark and low as the whisper of a tomb. "Detente?" The hands clench and for a moment, a brief moment, he wishes he had his Tissue Compression Eliminator with him. But he does not, and it would be too simple, too easy.

"Time to think. Time to think. I had it too, my dear Doctor. In point of fact, I do not blame you for leaving - I understand why you had to get young Susan away, before they could crush her spirit. That, I absolve you of."

With a malicious chuckle, he makes a sign of the cross, with theatrical flourish.

"Be absolved of that sin - but not stranding me. Time and time again. Those were choices, too, Doctor. Too many times, leaving me to die."