[Taps fingers rapidly on armrests. Neurotic. Looks away from Leo's face, fixes on something...somewhere. Across the room. The bomb model, maybe.]

It was, mm. Brought to my attention that my handling of this whole...situation was perhaps not the most graceful. [Understatement. Michael "Dr. Feelings" Hamato specifically called his behavior a "dumpster fire with a PhD," which was a little flattering but also enlightening. "You did that thing where you turn off all emotions except anger, Donnie," Mikey had sighed in exasperation, hitting him on the head with his clipboard.

Donnie barrels onward without pausing to let Leo react, or even speak. Gotta get it out with the momentum, gotta complete the thought(s).] That I didn't accurately portray how I'd felt, or even understood how I'd felt. I wanted to clarify what I'd said to you, about you...giving up. I know that wasn't it. But the idea that we- I could have lost my brother so quickly, so easily, wasn't one with which I could come to terms, so I. Detonated, as it were. My anger at my helplessness was transposed onto you.

So I'm sorry. You didn't deserve the accusation.