[His breath hitches a little at the words, firm enough and hitting hard enough at what's circling around in his head that it snaps him out of his thoughts a little. He looks back up at Keith, his expression fragile.]
Keith... [His instinct is, of course, to protest-- no, it is his fault. He knows it's his fault. He knows it is even when the thought isn't screaming at him magically.] I... hurt so many people. Some of them were prisoners like me. I don't even remember them all, and I hurt them all. Just because I wanted to survive.