Locus is silent for a moment, deliberating how much he wants to give him. Finally, he turns a bit further, if only to regard him a little more easily. He's taken aback, that much is clear. The certainty in his approach is gone now.

Good. Serves him right, a vindictive little piece of him thinks.

"Is that meant to be concern?" That deadpan says he knows it isn't, he's being difficult on purpose, but what Washington needs to know and understand, what he is owed, only stretches so far where Locus is concerned.

The moments following the death of his partner and his escape from Chorus are his, and his alone.