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He hadn't really slept in a long time. Everytime he closed his eyes, he would see that face. Those eyes looking at him with fear, grief, and love. Alex always wondered how that man was able to look at him with love, after everything Alex had done to him. He supposed he would never get an answer to that question.
That scene replayed in his head everytime he sat idly for too long. The feeling of cold metal in his hand, the feeling of his limbs moving against his will. Alex had screamed, begged himself to put the gun down. He begged himself to help Jay as he bled out in the next room, but he couldn't. He couldn't move of his own volition.