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[The door is locked -- it's always going to be locked, now -- but he answers it quickly, letting him in. The room is half-dark, the curtains drawn over the huge windows that usually let blank light in; Jesse's communicator sits abandoned on the table, switched off.
Jesse himself is maybe sort of a snapshot of what went down, because it's clear that he's been through a wreck over the last couple of hours, tearstained and rumpled, but up close, there's definitely a kind of peace to him. Not happy, but... still. He's not even smoking.
He waits till the door is locked again before speaking.]
It's over.
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