Oh, Christ on skates, Pepper, don't sneak up on him. His shoulders tense before he realizes who it is, and he turns around with a face like a kid caught with both hands in the cookie jar.

"Oh. Uh. Sorry," he says, as if that makes it any better. "Both, I guess, kinda. I'm...yeah, I don't really know how to apologize for all of...that," he says, and waves his hands to indicate a nanite death cloud. "I wish I could say 'that isn't me', but I guess it is, now."

He sighs, still looking guilty. "I'm really not good at coming up with apologies, am I?" he asks ruefully. "Especially not when I'm put on the spot."