It's something he doesn't really want to talk about - he wants it to go away so he can stop thinking about it, so he can move on, but he knows, somewhere, that's not really how it works. There's an angel in front of him and she's asking him if he's okay, and Jesse finds that funny in a terrible way. In fact, he laughs, kneading at his eyes with the heel of his palms. Physically, he's fine. Maybe a little pale, exhausted, but he's not injured, no. This is all mental.

"I died," Jesse tells her bluntly. Just get it out, just get it over with. He closes his eyes and blurts the rest, wrapping his arms around himself. "I got killed, and I came back." He's not fine, but: "M'fine. Now. S-sorry."