He scratches the back of his head, the gesture more defined than he'd normally make it-- even if he doesn't think the kid would really think he was attacking, it was better to do things deliberately while in here. "Sorry," is all he can say at first, for the death itself, the injuries, and being stuck here in general, but unlike a lot of what he says, it doesn't sound (too) awkward, but rather like there's actual meaning behind it.

He shakes the bag slightly-- not too hard, nothing that would damage the parts further than they already are-- to make them clank together in demonstration. "Scavenging for parts. I've got a PhD, might as well try banging some screws together."

But he pauses, before offering tentatively. "I'm not that kind of doctor, but have you gotten any of that looked at? To whatever extent is really possible out here."