He is. He told me. The... cancer. It came back, and he hid it from me. From everyone.

[He's not oblivious to the irony of what he's about to do, but he lights up a smoke all the same, inhaling hastily and deeply. His heart is beating hard, his head still throbbing despite the pills, and he can't stop staring at the stupid door.]

After everything... everything I did... [With him. For him. He hasn't heard Mr. White's voice in months, but there's still a hole the guy left behind, a pit in his stomach. Some of it is grief, and loss, but most of it is failure.

After everything he did.]