[It doesn't feel like a choice. It feels like a hard-won battle. Mr. White's the only one who can control Jesse's natural psychosis, the only one capable of talking sense into him when he's waving a gun around, chasing after invisible enemies over imagined slights. That he can function so well now, blend in with normal people, is entirely because of Mr. White's guidance. No one in Jesse's life has been able to do this much for him.
But he doesn't really know how to express any of that. He just gives Walt's shoulder one last squeeze and draws away.]
no subject
But he doesn't really know how to express any of that. He just gives Walt's shoulder one last squeeze and draws away.]
Get some sleep. I'll be right outside.