[ Clark's chest rises to follow the breath he takes in, a slow motion gasp more than anything. "My friend and I stopped the apocalypse" isn't exactly the most normal thing to hear, and he opens his mouth before shutting it again. ]

I'm sorry. [ The chipper demeanour Aziraphale wore just minutes ago seems so far away, now. Clark raises a hand, and if Aziraphale doesn't show signs of discomfort, will gently place it onto his shoulder for a squeeze. ]

I... I'm sure you and your friend did your best. But I don't think anyone could've seen the, um, apocalypse coming at all.