( he's polite enough not to touch the pack of smokes his finger has been running over when Poison sits down, drawing his hand back from them and offering a sheepish, abashed huff of laughter. )

I think I'd be more of a burden than a help there.

( he truly wanted to help, felt the crushing weight of once again not being enough, but logic won out in the heat of the moment. he was better focused at home, finding other ways to do something. preventing the disaster was impossible. he has to remember that. )

But, I am making room for any refugees who might need a place to stay. And my office is open to listen to their problems.

( does it sound a little like he's saying this more for his own benefit than Poison's? that's probably because he is. )