"I know," he says, hunching over, bristling. "I know, all right? You already made that pretty fucking clear. How I don't do anything. How useless I am. I got it, okay?" He looks up, finally managing to meet Tim's eyes. This has been bubbling up for too long; so much of it he'd already known and denied for as long as he could, and there just isn't any fucking point anymore. "I couldn't save Alex, or Jessica, or me. I made everything worse for you. I know that. What do you want me to do?"