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[Again, that shifting, like he's going to push, but doesn't. He needs it more than he could ever say, really, even if all it does is bring back the memory of the only time Mr. White ever hugged him: lost in that meth den, lost in grief and certain that Jane's death was his fault.
He could never remember, before, what he'd said to him then -- the memory is hazy at best, with everything that had been in his system at the time. But now he does remember, clear as day, Walter White's voice saying: "You didn't kill anyone, Jesse." Calm, like. Reassuring. Certain.
You didn't kill anyone.
He shudders, fingers closing tight again on the Doctor's shirt, but not to push him away. He's pretty much just bawling and he can't bring himself to care at all, sobbing beyond speech, and when the words come back all he can think to choke out is:]
I k--killed someone for him.
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