Locus doesn't sound threatening, or hostile, or angry - he just sounds confused. Sadly enough, that counts as a step forward.

Wash takes a breath and lets it out slowly, feeling the ache of the freshly closed wounds in his back and shoulders. This is a delicate balance, and he needs to consider his words carefully; he risks making things worse than they already are if he doesn't.

"Because you're part of my team," is what he finally settles on, "and my team got pretty fucked up today. I wasn't there, and I don't know if I could have helped if I was, but I'm here now, and this is what I can do." It's the bare-bones truth, laid out as gently as Wash can manage. He has no illusions about his own mental fortitude; he still has ugly cracks in his psyche, shoved together and barely holding, and an extradimensional creature with the power to influence minds would have easily wrecked him.