"Feels stupid now, looking back." Not--liking Cal, or needing Cal, or using Cal as a fucking crutch, emotionally, when he had no one else, not even Dave. "'Course the only constant in my life was the problem. Just--didn't want to see that."

He still doesn't know details about Cal and what was done to his own fucking brain and soul, but was he being manipulated as much as he was manipulating the world around him? Manipulating Dave? "I don't think I was changed fundamentally." He says it real quiet and kind of flat. He's well aware of his own personality. "I think I was--amplified."

If that makes sense. Finally, he takes a breath and shoves his hat back on, leaning his head back and staring at the ceiling instead. That much paranoia and us-vs-them isn't fucking normal. He doesn't say that, though. He doesn't say much more of anything, really, and apparently he's all talked out for a while. But it's not a violent silence, or an angry one. It's not a comfortable one either, but there's a sort of profound melancholy to it that he can't shake.