Lazarus has no choice but to outwardly react when Misa finally breaks down, her emotions smashing through the dam she's built around them and sweeping their burned legs out from under them in an onslaught of hurt and anger.

He can't truly fault her. He can't look at her either; after everything, the washes and grafts and attempts to walk without limping, this is easily the most painful.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, there being nothing else to answer with. "I'm so sorry. I thought... if it was something small, maybe I could..."

Do it right. Not screw it up, not prompt a line to form at the door to cuss me out for yet another failure.