❛ Yeah, exactly, Jess. Jesus Christ. ❜ he repeats after her (with his own twist) in a semi-mocking tone, tossing his hands wildly in the air.
Raising a brow at her disregard for the change, he waves his hand dismissively at the cashier in some weird halfhearted attempt at an apology and he follows after her. ❛ Then what?! Help me out. Give me something. ❜ No, he’s not really sore about the sudden pit-stop. In fact, he could care less. As long as they find Hank and he’s able to help his daughter. THAT’S what matters to him.
When she speaks, his expression can’t help but fade into one of disbelief. That’s it. That’s what she’s worried about? Him bearing witness to her blatant alcoholism? As if he doesn’t already know she pretty much runs on booze.
❛ …And do you really think I ‘give a shit’ about you having ‘this goddamn crutch?’ I’ve been to your apartment, remember? I’ve seen the empty bottles that decorate pretty much every freakin’ room, Jess. Every table – every shelf – every end-table— hell, I’m pretty sure I saw one in the bathroom. – I don’t CARE about that – and please, for the love of god, don’t misinterpret that as me not caring FOR you – because I do. I’m saying I don’t care that you’ve got a ‘crutch.’ No, I’m not thrilled, but I’m not gonna tell you how to live your life, either. And if it HELPS you do the things you do, then I’ll take you to the bar my damn self with if that’s what it takes. I’m sorry if I’m pushy about this it’s just —- my daughter’s life is on the line here, alright? I just have to know you’re serious about this. ❜
confrontations aren’t uncommon in her life. most of the work she ends up doing has her strong-arming guys twice her size into accepting subpoenas, then there’re the assholes that hold her responsible for the dirt she digs up on their dime. bellicose by nature, jones is the type to instigate the conflicts herself. this, though, helps expose the aspects of herself that she doesn’t enjoy being accosted about.
jessica constantly worries that, should she ever make an attempt at explaining herself as a whole, others are unlikely to understand. delusions of rampant kindness don’t plague her, either, since she isn’t an optimist. so instead of placing faith in other people, she gives personal matters a wide berth. keeps them from cropping up as part of a discussion, or ignores related inquiries outright. trying to elaborate on the personal differences between him walking in on her during a nighttime binge & watching the way she so thoughtlessly replenishes her poison is pointless. & it isn’t enough of an issue for it to be a discussion, either. it might make her feel shitty, but it’s her decision to live by. like countless others that weigh down on her shoulders.
anger helps, though. so does the drinking. they’re jessica’s front line defense against a whole myriad of things, but that isn’t very hard to deduce once you’ve known her for a few hours. circumventing the sentiment & ignoring his logic, she takes a swig from her flask & swashes it from cheek to cheek before swallowing – a petty ‘fuck you’ that she knows is entirely unnecessary.
“ – i’m not hammered, you know. “
not even tipsy, really. just nourishing her addiction.
“ nobody’s dying ‘cause of me. “
history bolsters those words. gives them meaning.