Maybe Finch doesn't get why, doesn't know exactly all the reasons for the quirks, just knows that they exist and that he accommodates them when he can. He figures he'll probably know the reasons by the end of this. But for now, Jesse doesn't think too hard on it. He can hold up his half now that he's in a place that he can rely on to keep his head clear. Following Pinkman across the room, Finch lets his shoulders relax.

"S'just my friend," Jesse tells him, voice gentle. "S'my friend Gerard, he's a priest, alright? It's his apartment." For a second he debates on how much he wants to tell Pinkman, hesitating. "He used t'let me crash here after shit happened. He took care'a me - probably would'a taken good care'a you, too, if you'da let him."

That sends a ripple through the memory, a sharp chord of sadness in an otherwise peaceful environment, and Jesse sighs, rubbing at his face. "Hey, c'mon. You wanna look at me? We gotta pull this back together."