[Jacob's response is instinctive, tipping his head up at the merest touch of the large red hand against his chin. He's trying very hard to keep a grip on himself, trying so hard not to let it all burst out of him but as he looks up at Hellboy, as he tries to breath steadily, he knows Hellboy can read him like a book.]

Those people. They were... what happened to them. I couldn't stop it. I didn't know it was going to happen. I've been here months. I've done nothing to make this place better. I don't- I can't-

[ He doesn't even know how to explain it, the knot of guilt in his chest, the feelings of inadequacy rearing up like stallions about to crush him. He's no closer now that he was when he first arrived.

And he's got no one to blame but himself.]