Matt gets that and he appreciates it. He flashes Foggy a smile, too, hoping to convey that, though it's short-lived, shifting sooner rather than later into something genuinely apologetic. He'd love to hang around, honestly, despite how up and down their conversations have been, so far, as they both readjust, but, "I should probably get home before someone shows up to check in on me and thinks I went looking for more ninjas or something."

He really doesn't want to explain to -- well, anyone, really, why both he and the suit are missing, assuming they know where to look for his gear in the first place. Clint might.

Rather than say that, however, he starts to tell Foggy that either or would work for him and then stops abruptly, something, some association half-forming on his face behind the sunglasses. Backpack. Blind guy with a backpack. He can't quite make the connection he wants (the Chinese man in the back of the taxi to the heroin he found in the apartment of the man who'd murdered Elena Cardenas), it sitting on the tip of the proverbial tongue, but --

He shakes his head abruptly, trying to clear it. It'll come to him, if he stops trying to think about it.

"Sorry," he starts after another moment, the puzzle harder to banish than he'd hoped. "Either or would be good."