[A part of it might be that when Lazarus knows he's wrong, pride doesn't stand in the way and make an ass of him. The faster someone is to admit fault, the less necessary it is to get incisive and bitter toward them, and for someone who has as much difficulty navigating socially as Lazarus does, it was a lesson swiftly learned.

He rubs at his scalp, tired and sad and overwhelmed, but at least something is on the mend that really needs to be. It would be the last straw if it wasn't, in a pick-a-direction-and-just-start-walking kind of way.]

Understanding is the best anyone can ask for. I'd like your help very much in that regard, actually, and... your correction, and your honesty, as well. Never be afraid to tell me if I stray from reason, OK? Even if it's hard to hear, I'd rather hear it.

[He stands from his seat at the desk, and several bones pop and crack unpleasantly as he stretches slowly and painfully.]

I have to get my circulation going again.

[It's a start, anyway.]