the sharp scrape of the chair against the floor is sudden and loud enough to startle him, again. and just like that they're gone. a little bit confused, jimmy stares after them. door slams, followed by the unmistakable, muffled sound of retching behind walls. he blinks. body slumps, elbow propped upon table as two fingers come to pinch the bridge of his nose. eyes slide shut. ' . . . jesus. ' leaves under the man's breath. his first instinct is concern. he feels the way his body wants to move ; feels that urge to stand, check on them, call through that door or to pour another glass of water for when they're done.
but he just can't. he's too tired. too confused, too helpless and increasingly too bitter to bring himself to do anything.
long sigh escapes him as he forces eyes open. sits there and listens to the sounds coming from down the hall. hand drifts back to the sleeping pills on the table, pinching them. trying to make sense of everything, and fails. it leaves a sour taste in his mouth, the way he was the one who lost his life. family, body, and freedom. and somehow, he was the one everyone seemed least concerned about ─ no, he forces the thought back down before it can form further. he wants to give them the benefit of the doubt, because that's what he does. that's who he is. but it's getting harder.
bern finally reappears, and jimmy looks at them. muscles tightening slightly to pull himself upright. ' everything okay ? ' bern doesn't answer to that. not with words, at least. jimmy watches them move around the kitchen instead. if you came back just to get stabbed on your own front lawn, what was the fucking point. he looks away. ' right. ' one of the tablets rolls between fingers. ' you make a compelling argument. but if i'm being honest, stay here is becoming a harder sell every day. ' tablets palmed, and he finally stands up.
' maybe you're right, maybe it isn't safe. ' gaze settles on bern, turning his body toward them. ' i appreciate what bobby's doing, really. but if the options are sitting in this house waiting for everyone to figure out whether castiel's coming back, or taking my chances somewhere else ? i just ─ i don't know. ' uncertainty eats him alive. he can't stand being inside this house any longer. footsteps drag slowly against the floor, and stops near the doorway. palm settles against the frame. stays there. still facing bern.
' i think, ' he starts, choosing his words, still trying to make himself smaller than what he's actually feeling right now. ' i think it'd be good for me to get out of this house for a little while. '