Jack doesn't know how to ask. He knows he doesn't really have to, that they're fine and always have been, but the way the question surfaces in his mind every now and again has him itching to drain it out.
"Do you ever feel uncomfortable when you remember that I...lived your past?" His voice gets smaller, "The worst parts?"
"Nah. Well, not really. I was gonna tell you that stuff anyways, there just hadn't been the right organic moments." Jerry takes a drag off the blunt, passes it back.
"Okay." Jack just holds the thing and watches it burn for a second. "But I mean...it's different than that, isn't it? I think in Rosa's case, she was even more freaked out than she let on. I mean, I was you. I was there, I felt it all."
"Hey man, I'm the one who left you unattended with the toad milk."
He gives a light chuckle. "Yeah, but I mean...still."
"Think of it this way! I never have to introduce you to my family!"
Jack takes the smallest puff, just enough to keep it lit. "Oh yeah, that was totally in the cards."
It'd practically been gallow's humor (a hint of flirting, too?), but the moment filters lighter anyway, a glow that lends itself to Jack's heart. As a chronic overthinker, pot isn't really his thing, but it's so much easier – fun, even, when Jerry's there. He doesn't need to say anything else; just from Jerry's tone, he can tell his concern had basically been a nonthing.
Jerry goes on, though, with a mix of regret and fondness, "I wish you could've lived the best parts, too, though. You deserve it! Would've been like a vacation you never got to have."
"That's so...sweet?" He's offered the blunt again, but gestures for Jerry to finish it. He doesn't mention that Sabine probably wouldn't have showed up to a bunch of house parties and international getaways, that the hurt was the point, because Jerry's giving him a look that makes him feel funny. "How about you tell me about them instead?"
