Ought I come talk to you about it?

[He looks older now, something in the eyes, but still young, too. His voice is very small, and he's talking to the ground more than the Doctor now.]

Yeah. Maybe... yeah.

I'll be there in a mo'.

[He notices the difference, but doesn't want to get too hopeful. Not yet, not until he knows what's going on. He is hopeful despite himself, though.

He knocks on Jesse's door shortly after.]

[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.

[He notes the somber mood, but also that the nervousness seems to ebbed out of Jesse.]

How much of it is over?

[Him and Walt? Or significantly more. Does he have the ability to mourn in peace? Has he said good-bye forever? Are the last straggling threads of futile rage gone?

He can hope...]

[He shakes his head, not to show that he doesn't understand, but that he understands all too well what he means: it's a gesture of finality.]

All of it. It's all... I told him goodbye. I told him it was over.

[He tells this information to the floor, but as soon as it's out of him, he looks up at his warden, looking for something. Approval? Confirmation? Reassurance? Maybe not, because he doesn't seem uncertain at all about it; there's even something like pride behind his eyes. But maybe he just needs to be reminded, after hanging up on the man who changed his life so much -- for better or worse -- that that's a good thing.]

Good man.

[He's careful to say the word man rather than lad or boy. He's grown into it. He goes over to sit beside of Jesse, putting an arm around his shoulders, even if he seems emotionally spent. It's quite a bit to go through.]

[It's the perfect thing to say at that moment. Jesse smiles, if tiredly, and leans into the touch without collapsing into it.

There's more he wants to say, but he takes a minute to gather his thoughts, assembling them into something coherent before he speaks.]

You were wrong, you know. [It's not accusatory, and he sort of shakes his head, to say that he doesn't need to be interrupted or corrected, here.] Not about-- what he did. You weren't wrong about that. It's right there in the file, and anyway, he admitted to it. He says... said... it was his biggest regret.

[His lips thin a little at that; he's not sure how to feel about that. He's not sure how to feel about any of it, but that's why he's still talking, after all.]

But... the why. It wasn't about power, it wasn't about control. Or not just that, anyways. I mean, maybe I'm stupid or naive or brainwashed to believe any of that, or to believe anything he says, but... I do.

I don't think I can really fault you for believing the better in someone, and not succumbing to their bad decisions while you're at it.

[That's true, too. The Doctor might have his doubts, but if Jesse has quit, then some positive thinking isn't so bad. Some people need to care despite everything.]

[He doesn't want to, really... but he's starting to understand what can and can't be changed. Even when the Doctor told him, when there was nothing to feel but hate, there was a part of him that said he had to be missing something. Now that he finally has the whole truth laid out before him, he knows it's right. And he knows he can't stop caring, even if it's not.]

He says he did it to protect me. That he-- he figured it was her life or mine, that it'd get me off the dope if she died, and...

["It will always be you, Jesse. Do you understand? I will always choose you."]

And, um. [He's getting choked up, now, but he pushes on.] I get it, I do, because that was the same way with Gale. I tried... so hard not to do it. I begged him to stop, call the cops, whatever it took. And we should've, I know that now, just like he should've called the ambulance. But I still... when he called me, told me to do it, I still thought the same thing. I still did it.

I would tell you that there's not much to show in love in taking someone's life- but I think you've more than figured that out in recent weeks.

[He's hesitant about the next statement.] I don't know that you intend to speak with Claire again or not. But she misses you a great deal- the you that's the real you, not the angry you.

You should at least tell her when you're prepared to. Only when you're prepared to, of course.

[He sniffles, recovering a little.] I left her a message. Before I called you. Just... to say I'm okay, and all, and it's over with. And I'm not asking for nothing, but she can get my money, for the house I promised her, if she wants it.

[Again, a beat; this time, he takes it to catch his breath, push back the tears.] I told her... I'm probably getting out of here soon. [He catches his warden's eye.] Right?

[He nods slowly.]

To be honest, I haven't a clue why you're still on my item. Perhaps you have to account for some of the things you did while you were angry. [He's obviously having to think on it, though.]

[BECAUSE REASONS, DOCTOR. Jesse shrugs.] Maybe.

Except... that doesn't mean I have to apologize to Narvin, does it?

[He shrugs. He doesn't know.] A lot of people have hit Narvin. At the same time, very few of held him down in a hostile environment and beaten him until he could barely defend himself.

Sometimes accounting for your actions is different from apologizing, really. It's realizing how much harm you might have done.

But, as I mentioned, I'm only speculating. I'd much rather you resolve the situation with Claire first. I know she was hurting for your absence.

[What about how much harm Narvin did? he wants to shoot back, but literally the last thing he wants to do right now is argue, so he sighs and lets it go.]

I did. I mean, on my end... I'm not gonna make her answer me, especially if she's still pissed off. Honestly, man, she might be better off not.

Do you want me to stay here a while and see if she does? ...You could even shoot digital Nazis for a bit. I won't mind. [It's half a joke. Though he would stay there as long as Jesse needed him to.]

[He almost smiles at the half a joke, but shakes his head.] I'm not gonna wait on it. [Although he may as well, because it's not like he has any plans to leave the room right now, or really any plans that don't involve just sitting and staring at the walls until he feels a little less numb.]

Be thinking of something to say. She was interested in resolving the situation, and broke down in tears at the idea of being without you. But... I should likely leave you be, then. [He starts to stand up.]

You don't have to. [It's said a little too quickly, eyes darting; if the Doctor pauses, or looks at him, he'll hesitate, look away again.]

It's... he... [He toys with the edge of a sleeve, biting his lip, his voice dropping back into the small.]

He called me his son.

[He sits down again, giving Jesse a curious look.] How did it feel? [He didn't know that Jesse wanted that from Walt. Or if he did at all.]

[Jesse doesn't know how to answer that, so he stays quiet, drawing his knees up against his chest. He knew for a while it was like that between them, deep down... Maybe not even so deep. There's a reason he'd only tried to call him by his first name once -- twice, now -- and it wasn't a distance thing. There's a reason they'd both understood the words never give up on family meant each other.

But he never expected the guy to say that. That he was loved. And Christ if it hadn't made it a thousand times harder to turn the communicator off after hearing it.

But he still had.]

You still made the right decision... [He's reassuring, but he would like to know what he said back. Right now, he wants to let Jesse know he supports what he suspects that Jesse already does know without him telling him.]

[He nods and rests his chin on his knees, childish, even as he thinks back on the conversation that he knows was anything but.]

I... told him I knew, and I said... if he really loved me, he'd turn himself in. [His eyes are damp, but he's not crying anymore, not right now; he just stares at the floor, seeing the last tableaux of the man, partner, father, he'd seared into his memory.]

And he said he'd talk to our lawyer. [He even smiles, a little, at that.] And he told me to be good... and that was it.