taking care

who: jesse and evie
where: his place
when: afternoon

Evelyn felt like she was going to jump out of her skin, but that wasn't evident to anyone passing her in the stairwell. She didn't move like somebody who felt very much like some thread in her life was unraveling apart. But she doubted she could credit self-control for the placid facade, because she couldn't even stop the how her hand gripped the banister far too tightly, and even controlling her breathing didn't stop it from being tense.

She approached the floor, her third walk in this hallway in nearly a week -- a record for the past months. The last visit hadn't started or ended well, but that was far from Evelyn's mind at the moment. All she was thinking about was the account: the account she had gone to open at the bank only to be told she already had one, the account that was in her name, and yet it was an account that had just too much money to possibly be hers. Although she had spent the entire taxi ride trying to explain it away -- her name wasn't uncommon and it could very well belong to another 'Evelyn A. James' -- it was just too much a coincidence for her to shrug it off.

So here she was, in front of Jesse's door again, not knocking yet. Instead she stood with her gloved fingers fidgeting through her hair -- which hung off her right shoulder in a loose braid now mostly undone by the wetness outside and her constant fidgeting (she kept moving it so it partially covered her face). What if it wasn't just a coincidence? What if that account washad to know, and she took another deep breath before tearing her hand from her hair and knocking rapidly on the door.

Jesse had been awake, sort of slowly going over finances, not that there was much to go over. His mind wasn't necessarily focused on his work, though, it was much more scattered. He was having a hard time concentrating, that was for sure. Lately, he'd had that, though. Things just seemed to be falling apart in one manner or another, and everything seemed like it was bothering him. When the knock on the door came, he had a pinch of trepidation before he set everything aside, and walked over to answer. He was surprised when he saw his sister on the other side of the door. Especially looking slightly less well put together than she usually did these days. "Evie...what's going on?" he asked, frowning slightly and stepping back so she could come inside.

She wasted no time stepping in, forcing her hand out of her hair for the umpteenth time that day only to have her fingers twist at the ends of her scarf. She didn't answer Jesse immediately, instead letting her gaze survey the apartment. Although she didn't lallygag around, and she only needed a second to take in the surroundings, she took her time flicking her eyes back to her brother, removing her hand from the scarf. "Is Jessie here?" Her voice was soft, as if she didn't want it to carry beyond him; but really she was still trying to give her throat a break. Her tone and overall still body would've seemed calm to an untrained observer, but her fingers -- with no hair or scarf between them -- had taken up to fidgeting with each other while the rest of her body just seemed too still to be relaxed.

Jesse was still eying her, and it was clear he was concerned. "No, Evie, she's not...sit down, what's going on? Are you okay?" he asked, walking over, and sort of nudging her towards the couch. "Do you want a glass of water or something? Vodka?" Evie was generally very well put together. So seeing her like this was pretty big cause for concern in his book. He didn't like it.

The nudge got a step towards the couch, but otherwise she didn't move or answer right away. She did open her mouth to say something, but then -- reconsidering -- only said, "Water'll be fine." Actually she could really go for a vodka, but she had been liberal with the aspirin throughout the day and even though she had sometimes felt like curling into a corner and dying the past couple of days... she had no intention actually heading in that direction. Otherwise, she really wasn't thirsty. It was just that getting the water would give Jesse something to do while she figured out just what she was going to say, and when she didn't want to say anymore, sipping the water could occupy her for a bit.

She finally headed towards the couch, but didn't sit down, only glanced at a framed picture as her mind turned. Now that she was here she had doubts. Evelyn really was a common enough name, and 'James' and even more common surname. It was more than possible that she wasn't the only 'Evelyn A. James' in the city. And, even though her brother wasn't always on the legal side of the law, Jesse had never done anything serious, right? And the account balance she had seen? That was serious. It was the kind of money that could afford well more than the one-bedroom apartment she was standing in now. And now coming here was starting to seem paranoid, almost idiotic. She wrapped her arms around herself, not tightly but enough to attempt self-reassurance, as she waited for the water. "How're you?" Because, yeah, she had totally come over here to ask him that...

"What? How am I?" Jesse asked, clearly thrown. He did get her a glass of water, and then brought it over towards her. "I'm worried about you Evie, what's going on? C'mon, sis, sit down, tell me what's up." he said, sitting down himself in the hopes that she'd follow. Because yeah, wow. He was worried. Very very worried right now, Jesus. She really wasn't topping the list of James' that could possibly have a breakdown, so he was really concerned.

"I just... had a question," she murmured, walking over to the couch to half-lean, half-sit against the armrest -- not her typical position but she just couldn't sit and relax right now. She paused for a sip form the water before bringing the glass back down and continuing. "Well, not really a question," she amended. After working to convince herself it was most likely a coincidence she couldn't just say 'Do you have something to do with this account in my name?'. Both hands turned the glass absently in her lap and she stared at the coffee table before her, "more an... odd story, really. I... decided to... well, I figured stashing my money from work wasn't so safe -- it's really so easy for it to get taken--" her breath caught slightly there but she continued, "--so... I decided to go to the bank," she quirked a forced half-smile, but her eyes flicked at him there, watching him closely. She normally didn't take this long to get to the point, she normally didn't ramble period, but she was doing so here and it really wasn't intentional.

Her eyes dropped back to the table. "Anyways, the teller -- she was obviously new or something -- well I guess I talked too softly and she was new anyways and she misheard me there was this mix-up," this time she tried a small laugh as if she were sharing an experience she actually found amusing, "and go figure-- according to her I already had an account there. Well, probably not me -- she first thought I was Eveline C. James with I-N-E at the end but then I told her that wasn't me -- the first name was wrong and my middle name was Audrey... but before I could correct her again and say I was there to openan account... 'Evelyn A. James' came out." And here was where she looked at Jesse again, waiting for him to say something -- either laugh off the event he had nothing to do with or... well, not.

When she said 'bank', that was when Jesse sat back a little more, internally going 'oh' in a 'this is doom' sort of manner. And right. Okay, he had to deal with this. "It's yours." he told her first. "There wasn't a mistake." Exhaling, he dragged his fingers through his hair, then stood up and started to pace a little. "I...at one point had a little money, and I put some away in everyone's names, so they could have it whenever they needed it." he said, really not going into where it had come from in the first place. "I'm sure it's drawn some interest since then. I er...I figured I'd tell you if you ever really really needed it?" he suggested, looking back at her. "Or if you were ever getting married, or...or something?"

For a long moment she couldn't talk, only open her mouth as sounds that were supposed to be the start of words caught in her throat and didn't go anywhere. "A-- a little?" Her mouth couldn't close. The amount that was in her name alone couldn't be considered 'a little' -- and there was more? 'In everyone's names?' "Jesse, I don't-- I-- what-- ...how do you come by 'a little money'?" Her voice raised in pitch, not volume, grating her throat the wrong way as she tried to wrap her mind around... everything. The pitch gave a vibe bordering on hysterical, made more evident by the short burst of a laughter that wasn't joyful. The strain it put on her throat rendered her voice hoarser as she continued, "Because that is not some... 'little money' you just come by!" Arm raised, she jabbed a finger towards the door, as if the money were laying there by the entrance.

"Don't ask." Jesse said straight away, strength and conviction in his tone, all sort of flaily questioning tone. "Lower your voice!" he added, in a hushed if sharp tone. It wasn't like he didn't have walls that were paper fucking thin. "Look, just, don't ask, alright? It was a while back. Just...don't go telling anyone about it either. Please."

"No, Jesse," she lowered her voice, although going too low was just as annoying on her throat as was going too high. "I'm not going to just accept some account with a shit ton of money and not ask how it got there -- This isn't some toy or extra groceries or pocket change where you get to say you helped somebody out and they gave it to you or you just found it or whatever and everybody else plays along." She shot the little tirade through gritted teeth, eyes fixed and tracking her brother's movements. More than occasionally the voice wavered, bouncing between pleading and angry and scared; yes, this was very close to being the straw that broke the metaphorical camel's back in terms of things piling up and leading her to a breakdown... but Evelyn still had some strength and a whole lot of stubbornness in her and wasn't going to just let something so huge go, no questions asked.

"Why are you sounding like that?" he asked, it filtering through to him that she sounded sick. Quite sick, even. "And....you know what? No. It isn't some toy, or anything else like that. Which is why you aren't getting to know. Because if you just use it then no one knows any different that it wasn't what I just said it was. It's untraceable that way. But I tell you...and then you tell someone else. And they tell someone else. And then people come here, and you're reading about them finding mutilated corpses of a father and daughter in the river." he said, voice very low. Serious. He meant every word, and while he wasn't threatening her, he was trying to get her to understand that she just became a threat to him.

The answer didn't satisfy her at all, but the chilling imagery got her to shut up for a bit. Particularly the 'in the river' bit, because whenever that term was used it was usually mob-related. Maybe other non-mob people used the river as dumping ground too, but anyone could read the paper and clue in to who usually frequented the waterfront to drop-off a body. "What do you think I'm going to do Jess? Go off an tell the presses?" she let the words out quietly and slowly, clearing her throat before doing so. She didn't answer him on how she sounded though -- she wasn't going to tell him why her throat hurt if he wasn't going to tell her why there was a shit ton of money in her name. It wasn't for nosiness sake -- she normally wasn't a prier. She honestly felt like she had a right to know here; and if it was mob-related? Then Evelyn felt like being ignorant on the issue was definitely a bad thing: she may have been a waitress, but she was surrounded by the mob at the Drake everyday... not that Jesse knew.

"It doesn't matter who you spout off about it." Jesse told her. "Word travels fast. Word travels very fast. And not only that but anyone knows you do have a little chunk of change you have available? They're going to milk you for it. This city is full of people just looking for the next person to fuck over, I don't want you to be one of them." He was serious there, it was something he knew. It was an unfortunate fact of life here. "You're better off not knowing, and just...making a change in your life. Take it, do whatever you want with it. Tell people you've been saving, or something, I don't care what you say. Say it's been left to you by a dead relative. Doesn't matter, just...leave this be, Evie. Please."

It was hypocritical of her to feel betrayed by his secrecy, but that realization of the hypocrisy was what finally got her to let go of the issue. ...For now. She didn't know what she was going to do, but she knew this just wasn't going to be something she could rest easy about -- which really didn't help her whole 'inability to relax, or sleep... or seemingly function properly anymore' issue. She probably deserved it, him not trusting her -- no, she did deserve it. And he probably had a hell of a better reason for keeping his secret than she did hers -- but that didn't mean she felt any less hurt by the whole thing. Or a bit pissed. Because, yeah, she had secrets; but at least her secrets and decisions didn't bring possible harm to those close to her, nor did they carry a threat of mutilation. ...Well, as long as she didn't let on that she caught way more in the Digiovanni's coded dinner conversations than they thought she could.

"Fine," Evelyn replied, feeling not at all better and not really hiding it. He wasn't going to tell her what happened, and it wasn't like they could move on to talk about movies or small talk or any other topic after this bombshell. So there wasn't really a point in staying, was there? She stood up and walked over to the kitchen to rinse out her glass, giving her time to try to internally calm down a bit -- maybe possibly think of something to say or ask -- instead of just getting up and leaving with everything still unresolved.

He kept his eyes on her, feeling bad for not trusting her, but well. She'd not been herself for a while now. Not the girl he'd grown up with, anyways. And she had her own bullshit secrets. So no. He didn't especially trust her. Not with something this big. "Get yourself out of that place." he said. "Someplace better. That's always what the money was for." Ultimately, anyways. A better life. That's what he'd wanted for them all.

"I'm not touching the money, Jess," she didn't know if her voice carried -- the switching from high to low had taken it's toll. She wiped off the glass, not bothering to take off her gloves before doing so -- hell, with the off-and-on showers they had been damp anyway. Although, really? She didn't know if what she said was true. Because hadn't 'someplace better' or whatever been what she always wanted? But she wasn't comfortable with the idea of using the money for moving out and moving up; she had envisioned getting herself to where she wanted to go, not have her brother open an account for her, not use money taken from who-knows-where and know that somebody would kill Jesse and her niece if they found out about it. So, yeah, chances were good she would leave the money be. She'd just open another account... although having two accounts in her name might be odd... maybe she could open one for 'Amelia'. After placing the glass back in cupboard, Evelyn took a step back from the sink, running a hand nervously through her hair before catching herself and bringing it back down again.

"It's untraceable and yours. Just don't tell people where it really came from." he said. "If that means you decide you want to suffer for no fucking reason, you do that. But that isn't what I'd wanted, and it isn't going to do anyone any damn good, either." Because it wouldn't. "If nothing else, if you used it right, and you're smart enough to do that, you could really get yourself places. Get your foot in the door."

She still held her ground there. She was stubborn, yes; but she was also concerned. He said it wasn't traceable, but Evelyn wasn't so sure. At least sitting untouched in an account, only she would be able to see the balance. But if she started spending -- even if she was smart about it -- she felt that despite what Jesse said it could get noticed... if somebody were looking for it. And if it was connected to the DiGiovannis, well... that made her more nervous. It wasn't just for her she was concerned either: it was for Jesse, and Jessie, and the rest of their family as well. There were a lot of reasons she still went by an alias at work and on some days certain reasons stuck out more than others, and one of those reasons was that she had felt -- if she somehow fucked up at her job -- at least the trouble would begin and end at her. She didn't want to do anything that could endanger her family.

And, anyways, even though she now had the money to 'get her foot in the door', as Jesse put it, Evelyn just honestly didn't know what she wanted to do with it. Because setting out to go somewhere meant she needed an idea of where to go. And she just didn't know that anymore. And working at the Drake wasn't her dream job in the slightest, but it had been better than the other options -- and she sure as hell preferred it to her last job. And her living situation? She was painfully aware just how stressed she could make herself when she was in the apartment alone... and having her roommates and the other boarding tenants helped, even if it didn't compare to having her family around. So, no, getting a nicer apartment by herself to be alone in with all the crap that had been piling up? That didn't appeal to her. Still facing the sink, Evelyn closed her eyes for a brief moment before opening them again and stepping away from the kitchen. "What about you?," she asked, shoving her damp hands into her pockets, quiet now if unhappy. "Why not get a place for you and Jessie, a two-bedroom? ...I mean, at least I'm sleeping in a bed here." It was one of those joking that attempted to lighten the mood... but it just missed the mark and the delivery came out flat.

He most certainly didn't see the humor--he missed entirely that she was even trying for it. "It's not traceable to you." he said. "Never said the same thing about myself." Though, technically, all he had to do was wait a little while longer. Just a while, til he was sure the O'Malley's were actually off the map. That they were gone, and they weren't going to come looking for him later. "Look...Evie, I'm doing what I have to. You do what you want. Okay?" he said, sighing heavily and dragging his fingers through his hair.

That got her worried: when he said it was untraceable, she had assumed he had meant it to him as well. And the knowledge that somebody could trace it to him dropped another pit into her stomach as the whole 'mutilated body in the river' imagery re-surfaced. Evelyn let herself finally step to the couch and drop down on it because that image... wasn't one she could handle too well right now. "How traceable to you is it?" He hadn't been giving her details but she had to ask -- he was her brother after all. The possibility of somebody coming for him wasn't one she was okay with no matter how upset she was with him (or he with her). And it took the whole 'not untraceable for him' thing for her mind to take the extremely little details she had to come up with very unpleasant and unfortunately vivid pictures of the possible dangers. And not knowing how likely or unlikely the money was to be traced back to him meant that, for all she knew, people could break down the door at any second; or come for him after she left and... well, again, not pleasant to envision. It didn't help that she had recently discovered how easy it was for fate to turn for the worse.

He was quiet for a long moment, then he walked over and sat with her. "It...I helped a friend." he told her, voice very quiet. "Never did anything like it before, never wanted to. Things didn't end so well. And maybe...maybe eventually I'll be able to do something with it, give Jessie a better life too, tell everyone else about their accounts, but I've gotta be sure. I come up with money all of a sudden? People are gonna want to know how I came by it. They're gonna start digging. and let's just say my friend wasn't the smartest guy in the world."

She bit her tongue when he mentioned helping a friend -- half expecting him to go into a story about how he met yet another girl he had to put his neck on the line for and now was worried about getting killed for it. But a lecture about that would've been wholly inappropriate and, as Jesse finished, irrelevant anyway. "W-- 'wasn't?'" It was more than the hoarseness that gave her trouble getting the question out. Because the past tense was used for things and... people... that weren't here anymore.

And, now that the weight of being painfully aware of his and her own mortality was almost crushing her, she didn't want to end tonight in a fight, or leave in a similar state as last time... last time had been awful. And the idea that it could've been the last talk she had with her brother... was horrible. But her hope and intentions could only carry so far, because she hadn't gotten around to saying 'sorry' yet even though she very much wanted to say it. There was a more pressing subject being discussed at hand, for one thing. And maybe she felt a bit cowardly for another. Oh, and there was the whole feeling one-straw-away-from-a-complete-breakdown thing too.

"Wasn't. He's not around anymore. I couldn't tell you if it was really an accident or not." he said, not wanting to give her too many details, but at the very least enough of them that she'd know the seriousness of it all. He put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "it'll be okay. Just...don't tell anyone where it came from. Okay?" he asked tone quieter than it had been since she'd got there.

"Okay," she almost whispered, letting her head rest against his shoulder -- well, 'rest' wasn't the right term for it. She wouldn't let herself angle towards him too much: she wanted to make sure the hair didn't fall too far away from her face; not to mention that side of her face was the most sensitive part of her body; and her whole right side just felt tender. Again she just looked down at the coffee table, not quite certain everything would be okay even though she wanted to believe it.

Jesse kissed her forehead and frowned a little. "Evie, why are you sounding like you are?" he asked. She didn't necessarily feel warm to him. Or, not warm enough that he thought she might be sick. And hell, she didn't really look sick, just a little more disheveled than she usually did, but that he chalked up to the whole mystery account thing. So, now that they'd talked about that, he was coming back again to her voice, wanting to know what was going on.

She didn't talk for a long moment, and kinda did one of those brief shrugs that was useless in saying anything other than she didn't have an answer, or didn't want to give one, or was too apathetic or tired to put the effort, or maybe it just served to fill up the long moment of her not talking... either way, it was the kind of shrug whose only definite meaning was there was more to the story. And Evelyn just didn't want to share it -- but that was nothing new. Almost since she was a kid, patience and persistence was generally required to drag her problems out of her -- and straight up pulling teeth was needed to get her to hint that she was at all bothered or weakened by them. Whatever admissions were extracted from her usually came with a nonchalant shrug, very brief telling of the matter, and a steering of the conversation to another direction.

And here was no different; except the shrug didn't come off as nonchalant but just too... tired to bring forth the answer. And, not wanting pile on another lie and not wanting to go into the details, she was a bit slow on the whole denial uptake. "M'throat's sore," she mumbled, closing her eyes for a moment to drive home the whole 'tired' vibe. It wasn't a total exaggeration either -- the idea of going into the story... of how she'd been stupid and fallen asleep and ended up wandering around lost in a bad part of the city at night... yeah, she wasn't looking forward to it, and was trying to employ whatever convenient avoidance techniques were at her disposal... even if she didn't pull them off with her usual finesse.

"Yeah, I caught that bit." Jesse said. "Why? You don't feel sick." he told her. He was aware that Evie was usually reticent to talk about things, but he had the time. He had the time, and more than the inclination. That was just how that was going to go, so...yeah. He'd put in the effort. He'd dig at it til he did get the story.

She fidgeted uncomfortably, much to her displeasure, and was again quiet for another long moment. Waiting it out to see if maybe he'd finally be forced into giving up or changing the subject -- but he didn't, not that she was surprised. She captured a breath and let it out in a sigh, "Some... guy tried to mug me," she finally answered, giving him the brief and sanitized version of the experience. "But he didn't succeed, so..." she gave another shrug, ending the story -- that was it, no big deal, nothing more to tell.

Jesse tensed. It was immediate. He froze entirely, stilled. He even stopped breathing for a few long moments. "Where, what did he look like, and have you reported it?" he asked, tone far too light, far too controlled to be anything that wasn't labeled as 'dangerous'. Someone hurt his baby sister. That? Was whole worlds of not the fuck okay. At all. Ever. Just no. No, no and more no.

This time the shrug honestly meant she didn't know, and it was vocalized none-too-happily, "I don't know." That was probably the most humiliating of the thing -- she couldn't even tell how tall he was, or a good guess at race, or whether his hair had been dark or light, or eye color, or what his voice sounded like... she didn't even know exactly what part of town she had been in -- it seemed like the streets signs just weren't there or graffitied over or too dark to make out. The only thing she retained from the experience was the terror and how powerless she had felt before Dutch had come along; and she knew that Dutch told her Occam Automotive was a couple blocks away.

Evelyn shook her head, "I didn't report it. I just..." She was just too disoriented and freaked out by having stabbed a guy who wanted more than money from her, and then been nearly killed because of it. "...I mean, I couldn't tell them what he looked like, and I got my money back, so I just..." went home and broke down for a while. "...went home."

"How did you get your money back?" he asked. And while his tone was sharp, it most certainly wasn't directed at her. No, it was all towards whoever thought they could get away with hurting his baby sister. His arm was even still around her, even if his grip had tightened a little. It was an unconscious protective gesture. "Where was this?" He could find out, he bet. He had connections. People talked.

Again she fidgeted and was quiet for a moment. "Somebody walked by... helped me out, got my purse back," despite the distressing emotions that telling just this very brief, almost detail-free, version roused up, Evelyn was still aware that Dutch knew her as 'Amelia' and refrained from using his name. "...and I really don't know where it was," she finally admitted, very quietly. "I just... wasn't paying attention. On the bus, and I had to get off." At that moment, she didn't mind the protective grip -- even if she felt uncomfortable about everything else. Jesse was her brother -- family. And although she'd always been determinedly independent when growing up, she wasn't one to spurn a comforting hug from family when needed -- even if she'd never admit it was needed. The angle she was holding her head at made her neck hurt, and gravity won out as she rested it more fully against the shoulder. It elicited a slight wince though, the aspirin was wearing off.

"Well you had to get back from where you were, how did you get back? What neighborhood was it it? what was nearby?" he asked. Even bare details could get him started. He'd take bare details. "Did you have the knife I gave you?" he asked her. He rubbed her shoulder a little while he was at it after she put her head down, still wanting to be comforting. Needing to be there since there was a growing sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him he'd failed her. That he hadn't been there when she needed him.

"Yes," And this time the quietness in her tone wasn't due to the sore throat, "and I used it." She couldn't stop her spine from tensing there, not touching on how unprepared she had been with the knife and how un-swayed the guy had been by being stabbed; but this time she forwent the long pause and moved on, "And the man who pulled him off didn't go easy on the guy either." She paused absently, still recalling the onslaught of sounds from the scuffle and her initial fear at hearing somebody else in the dark, even though the weight against her had been lifted... a slight shudder slipped through as she shook it off mentally, and reminded herself that there had been more to Jesse's question... well, questions. She thought back to Dutch, and him on the phone calling the cab, and it took a moment to remember. "He called a cab. I think... Royal?... street."

She had gotten lost in recalling details she preferred to bury and pretend away, but a moment after she answered Jesse's questions something clicked. The way they focused on finding out the Where... she lifted her head up and sat up a slight bit, directly looking at him, "Jess," she warned; but she winced internally at the slight pleading tone it had adopted. She managed to keep it out as she continued, keeping her voice steady and even, "I got my money back, nothing happened; leave it alone." There wasn't a point to it: at best it would change nothing and at worst it was cause trouble. Jesse already had some serious shit going on that she wasn't too In The Know about, he didn't need to be digging around and bringing attention to himself in the wrong part of town too.

"Then why do you sound like you do?" Jesse asked, tone dark. "Don't even try telling me that nothing happened, obviously something did. And it doesn't matter that you got your money back. Something happened to you. And if whoever stepped in didn't take care of it himself? Then it'll be someone else's sister tomorrow. Or daughter." No, he wasn't happy to just let things lie. It wasn't how he worked. Not in the slightest.

"Jess don't," again the tone was part-warning and part-pleading and again she hated how the anxious pitch picked at her hoarseness, "just leave it." Oh, Evelyn was all for playing down the encounter and writing it off as 'nothing happening': she had gotten her stuff back and was alive if not feeling well. But a new shirt could be bought and in a couple weeks the bruises would all fade and Sunday night really would've been like a bad dream with no lasting effect and, like a dream, would be just as forgotten. Right now, she was trying hard to count herself lucky for nothing to have happened in the end (although true luck would've been not being in that situation to begin with), and she was ready to leave it at that.

She didn't like the idea of some other girl being in the same position she'd been in -- especially since more often than not there wouldn't be somebody like Dutch to step in. She had never been a mean-spirited person and would never wish that on anyone, but the straight up fact was that there were people in this world that Evelyn cared about more than others. She would choose her family and friends' safety over those of faceless victims. So she wasn't for the idea of her brother going through whatever shady parts of town to talk to whatever shady people just to hunt down an attacker she would be all too happy to forget about.

She sighed, bringing her knees up to her chest and crossing her arms lightly atop them. Although the sigh had been slightly shaky, her words were steady and clear: "Honestly, I'd rather have you less selfless and alive than heroic and...," she couldn't bring herself to say 'dead' right then, "...hurt." She said it softly, because it was a admission that meant a lot to her; plus, her voice wasn't hoarse at that level.

Jesse wasn't that easily deterred. Call it a flaw, or what have you, he just wasn't built to say 'well, not my problem, I guess'. Especially not when it had to do with a family member. His baby sister, no less. Not that any of his sisters wouldn't have gotten the same reaction, but Evie was the baby and he was always going to kind of think of her as such. Even when it was glaringly clear she wasn't anymore. But apparently, she also couldn't quite look after herself. And he did believe that people who just looked the other way and said 'no, don't fuss' just kept he problems going. Not that he blamed Evie for that, he didn't. He'd seen it a lot himself, just...people not wanting to go to the police, not wanting to say anything, out of fear.

Only Jesse wasn't afraid. So that took that out of the equation for him. "Do you need anything, Evie?" he asked, tone soft, gentle. "Do you want to stay here for the night? Can I do anything?" He knew what he was going to do, but he'd do that when she was unaware of it.

She looked at him warily, noting that he hadn't actually addressed her issue. She knew her brother -- well, obviously she didn't know everything -- but she knew enough to still be concerned. Like, yeah, staying at home and not doing anything about it didn't sound like Jesse -- but Evelyn just couldn't see what he could do: the streets had been (or seemed) deserted for blocks around and despite facing him she hadn't gotten the slightest useful look at the attacker -- she hadn't even heard his voice (only the breathing... which, again, she'd like to forget). She could only foresee Jesse digging around and getting noticed and getting in trouble... all to find a guy she doubted she'd recognize if he stood right before her. And that was another disturbing thought to add onto the pile: another little tidbit to further unnerve her usually steady composure.

Yeah... she was feeling particularly vulnerable right now. She let herself lean, or 'fall' really, against the couch and Jesse's arm, taking a long moment to consider his question. She really wasn't looking forward to the journey home; before the her discovery at the bank she had planned on being back in her apartment safe and sound long before sunset hit. But it hadn't worked out like that. And for all her concerns about her brother's over-protectiveness and it getting him in trouble, right now was the closest to 'safe and sound' she had really felt.

But, instead, she gave a slight shake of the head, "It's alright." Because staying over wasn't so simple: it would put Jesse on the floor, for one thing. But most importantly, she could get away with keeping on the coat, scarf, and gloves if she was planning on going home eventually. And though her hair covered the bruising plenty for now, she doubted it would last throughout the night. He didn't need to see that -- she didn't want him to see that -- not when she was already worried about him going after the guy.

"I'd feel a lot better if you did." he told her. "Or at least let me bring you to mom and dad's. I know you've got your room mates at your place and all but that's not family." And it never would be. And they were a family that took care of one another, no matter what. He firmly, solidly believe that, and wasn't about to let go of it now. No, it wasn't getting dropped. "Stay here for a while, just relax for a bit, then I can bring you over there. I'm sure mom'll have something for dinner already made up."

Evelyn was able to keep the frown off her face, but she still shrank a little bit into herself and sank just another bit further into the couch. Her parents' house? "You don't have to," she murmured, internally, oh, freaking at the idea. It wasn't because she didn't want to see them. Hell, she missed them. And especially recently a needy part of her wanted her own bed. It was rarely quiet there, which could be trying, but she kind of missed the background noise of her family close by. But she really didn't want to drop by in the state she was in. She may be covered up now, but she gave it five minutes at her parents' house for everyone to see the evidence of the attempted mugging. Because the first thing she'd be urged to do was take off her coat and scarf and the like. And even if she managed to keep that stuff on (unlikely), her mother tended to brush back hair even when it was perfectly in place. It was one of those motherly habits that was comforting... as long as you weren't trying to hide something behind the hair.

And Jesse would be there to see it anyway, which was what she had wanted to avoid by not staying the night. He wasn't the kind of son or brother who would disappear seconds after dropping her off, after all. Whether she went to her parents' or Jesse's, it was a lose-lose for keeping herself literally underwraps. A stubborn part of her still wanted to avoid all that and considered sticking with heading back to the boarding house. But her brother was the overprotective sort and, especially when concerned, could be just as persistent about being around and taking care of things as she was about not having others do things and taking care of herself. But she was weakened by stress and nerves and actually finding the idea of some family comforting -- hell, maybe she needed it right now.

So Evelyn opted against a battle of wills on the matter and relented to his first suggestion. She angled her head a bit to glance at him, "You're really okay with me staying?" She toned it a bit hesitantly, giving him an 'out' there. But it was for her apprehensive benefit than her actually thinking Jesse would retract the offer.

He gave her a little smile and a smooch on the forehead. "Course I don't mind." he told her. "And if you kind of didn't want to deal with things or people or whatever, Baby J could spend the night at mom and dad's house. I just don't like the idea of you being alone right now. So, just stick around here, make me feel better." he told her phrasing it like she'd be doing him a favor with it as well. "I could make you eggs. I'm actually okay with those." he promised. Jesse didn't know how to cook very much but eggs were fairly easy and he could manage a few different things with them even.

"I'd have to see it to believe it," she mumbled skeptically, this time the humor more noticeable than her last attempt. She relaxed a bit -- not completely, but enough to crack the joke -- appreciative of the out there on dealing with people and the whole 'stay for my sake' phrasing of things. It may have mattered for little other than humoring her pride, but she could use with some pride-humoring. What with things going crazy and feeling all kinds of weak and vulnerable and not-up-to-par, her confidence had taken a beating. So yeah, her pride and a sense of choice and control didn't mind being humored. Hmm, and now he mentioned eggs and such she realized that she was getting a bit hungry -- it was around dinner-ish and it wasn't as if eating well had been a top priority the past couple days.

Jesse chuckled lightly at that. "Well, I'll get on that proving it thing." he said. "You, relax. Okay? Ditch the jacket, kick your feet up, get a blanket, do whatever you want." he told her. "If you want to take a bath or something, you can do that too. I'll work on getting you fed. Sound good?" he asked. It would give him something active to do while he plotted hunting the guy down and seeing about putting him at the very least in the hospital. That would make him feel better.

"Alright," she nodded, thinking about what she wanted to pursue at the moment. She didn't need a bath, but it was the most tempting: it gave her some time to go about processing everything that had occurred since the bank today. Unfortunately she couldn't really walk out still bundled in her outdoor clothes after the bath -- but she suspected that cat was going to be out of the bag one way or the other before bed. At least after a bath she might have some composure back to handle that situation when it came. "I think I'll go draw up the bath," she decided, rising up from the couch. As she got back on her feet she stretched automatically, only to wince internally at the act and bring the arms back down. In between the shoulder-blades was an area still tender from the guy's elbow -- she kept forgetting that only to be reminded every time the area was pinched by a stretch. It may have been the kind of soreness easily ignorable by a tougher individual, but Evelyn had never in her life needed physical toughness. Seriously, the closest she got to an actual fight was trying to wrestle things away from her sisters (or vice versa). ...Not exactly the School of Pain there.

Jesse had an eye on her out of the corner of his eye as he was getting things out of the cabinets. He saw the wince there. But he expected it. He wasn't oblivious, or stupid. He figured she was covering for things. Injuries, probably. Getting mugged wasn't a pleasant experience, after all. It sucked to see, that much was certain, but he had figured it was there. "Just take it easy, Evie." he told her, voice light. Gentle. "Don't push yourself too hard, and if something hurts, stop doing that." He'd spent enough time being in a state of injury in his life to know.

Evelyn stilled for a second at his comment, but avoided commenting on it as she busied herself towards the bathroom. Even though she hadn't frequented her brother's place much over the past couple months, she was still plenty of familiar with it to go about grabbing a towel and drawing a bath -- a couple months away from home weren't going to fuzzy years' worth of memories after all. Closing the door, she finally went about removing her gloves and scarf as the water began to pour. The wrist was wrapped in an ACE bandage and she removed that too. Getting the buttons off the coat wasn't fun -- and getting the smaller buttons of the shirt was less so. She was really learning to appreciate just how integral a non-hurt or sprained or whatever (knowing enough to know it wasn't broken, she hadn't bothered with a doctor) to the most basic day-to-day activities: buttoning things, brushing hair, holding a glass... and waitressing? Well, she bet there was an unpleasant talk in her near future at the Drake.

With the shirt off but her slip still on, she finally took a good look at herself in the mirror -- something she had largely avoided with brief skims and glances yesterday. But here she had nothing better to do while waiting around for the tub to fill, and it was about time she got a good look at just what she wouldn't be able to hide much longer. The bruising was still extremely there -- although the harsh reddish tinge had largely faded into the purple. She thought things looked like they were healing, but they still looked bad. But that wasn't surprising -- being about as pale as an Alaskan in December meant her skin could show a bruise from just being pinched too hard. As the running water began to sound closer to the tub getting full Evelyn stepped towards it to shut it off and finally shed the rest of the clothes and stepped in.

Jesse made Evie food. It was technically breakfast, but that was what he was best at making, so he was just doing that. He could imagine that she was hurt. She moved like she was hurt. Just that bit too stiff, or not standing up as quickly as normal. He knew the signs. He knew about trying to cover them. Like he tried to cover the limp he had. Sometimes he could pull it off, sometimes he couldn't. He didn't really want her having to learn how to go around shit like that. He wanted this to be the one and only time it ever happened.

If he had his way, and he tracked down whoever'd done it, then at least that asshole wouldn't be touching anyone ever again. As for Evie, he hoped that whatever she was doing when it happened was something she wasn't going to do again.

In the tub Evelyn sighed, and unlike her many sighs over the last week this one actually did something: she felt a bit of the tension leave her with that exhale as she slid further into the water, sinking down until only her nose and up were visible above the surface. She would've submerged her head even lower, but she was trying to keep the gauze and her hair dry -- brushing it had become annoying enough, she wasn't up for detangling wet strands. For all her plans of seriously processing everything, Evelyn's mind was drawn to her blowing bubbles just beneath the surface and her fingertips flicking water at the faucet. She could hear Jesse moving about the kitchen (weird thought) in the background, and absently wondered just how he was getting along in there. And thus the pondering began, about Jesse, and the account, and Sunday night, and work... unfortunately, she ended up with just as little an idea on what to do about everything as she had started with. But it wasn't a complete waste: because this time, despite what seemed an absolutely unproductive thinking out of things, she felt better afterward. Normally the pondering stressed her out and not having a plan stressed her out even further; but not now -- not with the still warm water lapping at her skin. It wasn't that she was trouble-free, troubles still lingered from the back of her mind, but they weren't weighing down on her as they had been. In fact, for some moments she actually felt a bit relaxed.

But all good things must come to an end, and as she stepped out of the tub and dried off she felt that prickle of apprehension return as she looked at her clothes. But now she was no longer clinging to thinking of some way to keep herself covered -- so maybe there had been some use to her earlier pondering. She set the outsidewear aside and put the underwear, slip, and skirt back on and re-wrapped the ACE bandage for her wrist. When she put her shirt on she left it unbuttoned, because buttons were trouble and she wasn't planning on sleeping in it anyway (wrinkles, no thank you). She could've left it off, but just because Evelyn had accepted that she couldn't hide the obvious bruises didn't mean she was any more comfortable displaying all of them. For that same reason she brought her hair back down and let it cascade down the side of her face. She took her time to get dressed, but she managed not lingering around afterwards. Stepping out the bathroom door, Evelyn bit back her apprehension and calmly strolled over to the couch to put down her clothes.

Jesse looked over at her. "Did you want to borrow anything?" he asked, of course noting everything he could see. Her wrist, most clearly, but there were other things. Like he looked at her neck, because Evie wasn't taken to wearing her hair down much, so the changed detail drew attention as opposed to deflecting it. He internally marked down in his mind everything he could see, and he already had a growing list in his mind of suspected injuries, just from how she moved. He didn't let on he was doing it, but he was. Making a list, one he'd be sure to remember really damn well.

He wondered if she'd stay for a more extended period if he offered it to her. Hell, at this point, he'd be willing to move some money around, and get a better apartment, if she'd stay. He probably needed a better one anyways, right? But if he did that, maybe she'd stick around, and he could protect her better, and she'd have a safe place to come back to, and maybe things'd even out again with them. He didn't think Jessie would mind at all. Really...he just wanted to keep his family safe. That was always going to be his top priority. Now wasn't any different, and seeing her like this, he was thinking her being on the other side of the city was way too far away.

Evelyn thought about her answer for a bit as she walked away from the couch. "Do you have any aspirin?" she asked in as normal a voice she could manage as she pulled a chair out from the table. This just meant it still came out soft, but steady. Sitting here like this was still incredibly awkward for her, but showing that would just make her feel even more uncomfortable. It was why she had headed for the couch first, and it was why she now sat at the table instead of having marched into the kitchen to check out the eggs first thing over Jesse's shoulder. Something about Jesse being the one to see her like this just made the situation... 'worse' wasn't quite the right word for it, but it definitely made things harder for her. She wasn't keen on looking like this in front of anyone, but for her it became especially more difficult the better she knew the person. It didn't make sense -- she knew it didn't make sense -- but it was just the way it was. Really, the only thing that could have made it almost unbearable was having it be her entire family here to see her too.

But she was bearing with it. She may not be running over to bother her brother in the kitchen, but she wasn't trying to sneak and hide under a blanket and she was managing to keep her composure at the table. So yeah, she was managing.

Jesse got her plate all ready, and he brought it to her, setting it down in front of her. He made them how he remembered her liking eggs, and made her toast and everything too. Never let it be said that Jesse didn't know how to go about catering to someone when he needed to. "Need anything else, Evie?" he asked, after he set down some milk for her too. They didn't have juice, and he was thinking coffee wasn't good for her just now. So, he'd stuck with something harmless, and he actually had on hand.

Evelyn shook her head, and this time she wasn't just doing that for the sake of not seeming needy -- although Evelyn already felt childish having Jesse do so much already. She took a piece of the toast and dipped a corner into the egg yolk -- the only part of the egg she liked slightly undercooked for such a purpose -- and took a bite. Ah, chewing... what a wonderful thing: she didn't have talk about the bruises or carefully talk around the subject with a mouthful of eggy bread as an excuse. And the mouthful was actually pretty good, especially considering the chef. "Impressive," she got out after swallowing, giving Jesse a wry smile, "There may be hope for you yet."

He chuckled lightly, sitting down at the table with her. "Yeah, well, you're probably the only one that thinks so. Well. Besides Baby J." he said. His daughter certainly had faith in him. And maybe their siblings and parents did. But no one that wasn't blood related. And sometimes he knew his family just shook their heads at him in general, and he couldn't quite blame them on that score. "If I got a bigger place, would you consider staying with Jessie and me?" he asked. He didn't think she'd agree or anything but he had to try.

She was quiet, thinking, and again thanking the miracle that was chewing. Because right now at least she had another good mouthful to blame for not answering right away. And, for a moment, Evelyn seriously considered it -- because Jesse deserved an answer only after she had given thought to his offer. She would get to see her family regularly again, and it would be easier to keep in touch with her friends here, and it would probably feel more like home than her place did right now... But Evelyn already knew in her gut what the answer would be, and even a seriously considering wasn't going to change it. Living on her own was proving more difficult and at times lonelier and more stressful than she had planned for, but despite everything that had happened she wasn't willing to give up on it just yet. Maybe it was her pride and pride only, but after some serious (if quick) thought she felt there was more to it just yet... and wasn't ready to hand in the towel there.

"I don't know Jess," she started, trying to figure out how to put it before the pause became too long, "I don't... think I would." She didn't say it matter-of-factly, or harshly; she was trying to be honest -- he deserved more honesty out of her -- without it coming off as hurtful. Hurtful was not her intention. After another moment, she kept eye contact and continued, "But I think you should get a bigger place -- two bedrooms, at least." After another moment she added, "... I could start looking into other places too, I guess." She wasn't going to move out right away, but she could at least relent a bit on the issue and commit to looking.

It was more than Jesse had actually expected. Mostly, he'd expected her to give him a flat no, without considering it at all. Which really, to him that just made it all the more clear how rattled her experience must have made her. Or there was other shit going on in her life he didn't know about. Either way, it made him at once more concerned, and he felt slightly better that she'd even think about it. "Yeah, I know that I need a bigger place anyways. I've just been trying to...well. keep my head low." he admitted, exhaling. He propped his chin on his hand, keeping his eyes on her. "I'd feel better if you looked for something a little better. And you know you've got a little leeway there for price now." he said. "If not with Jessie and me, then at least someplace in a better neighborhood." He could accept that.

"Alright," she agreed, cutting a piece of the white off with her fork, "I'll look -- but," because she really needed to add this here, "I'm not saying I'll move out immediately." For one, she was wary of rushing into getting a new place. And two, she wasn't unhappy with the place itself. The stressful experiences and worries had made her more aware of when she was alone in the apartment, but when her roommates were around they'd had nice talks and some fun times. There were certainly some sketchy elements, but she didn't think the boarding house was so bad. She was surrounded by girls around her own age there, and even though it wasn't family that didn't mean she didn't enjoy spending time with and talking to her housemates, and had even hung out with some of them on occasion.

Jesse held up his hands. "Okay, I didn't say anything about a timeframe, Evie." he said. "Just saying how I feel, I'm not hounding you." Which normally he might have done, but in her current state, he wasn't doing that at all. She could take her time. Sure. That was fine by him. Maybe it'd make her more likely to do it in the end or something. In the meantime, he was going to look for a place with three bedrooms, just in case she changed her mind. It would probably suck, but he'd been thinking things through tonight, and with word on the street being the O'Malley's were on the way out, he might actually not have anything to worry about long term.

She eyed him warily over the glass of milk she as she sipped, probably on the lookout for some hounding despite his assurances. But as she put the milk back down, she brought her attention back to the plate, unsure what to say next. She could probably wrestle up some small talk, or she could attempt delving into one of what felt like a multitude of pressing issues that was between them. She realized now that they hadn't really actually gotten any of today's issues resolved: he hadn't told her how he got the money or who he was worried about (she assumed) getting it back, she hadn't disclosed many details of what she was only calling an attempted mugging, and the whole bailing-on-Jessie thing hadn't been touched. But in spite of that, something felt resolved; definitely not everything but some small, important part seemed 'fixed' or at least healing. She wasn't sure if it was just something with her or something between her and her brother, but she could admit to feeling emotionally better than she had been.

And a lot of Big Things had been tackled and touched on this evening already; so maybe giving serious stuff a rest wasn't so bad. For a moment she pictured herself coming clean and just blurting out the truth -- that she worked at the Drake now, that she hadn't been working for that ass of a lawyer for months... but the idea of getting into the messy details of the story just brought on a wave of anxiety Evelyn wasn't up to sorting through at the moment. Thinking about would've been enough to give her headache, but she was already starting to sport one as the day's earlier painkillers wore off. "D'you have aspirin?"

"Shit...sorry, you asked me for that earlier too, didn't you." Jesse said, hopping up. "Yeah, I do, I'll get you some." he promised, disappearing into the bathroom to get her the bottle, and he set it down on the table next to her. "Here. Don't take too many, but keep it. I can get more." Plus, generally, aspirin didn't do a hell of a lot for the kinds of injuries he tended to have. And after he'd been shot, he'd downed them like candy, when he could get his hands on it. His daughter had stopped that right quick, but still. "Sorry." he apologized again, though it seemed kind of a blanket statement, trying to encompass everything.

She smiled up at him, reaching for the bottle, but her eyes narrowed a bit at the apology, picking up that it seemed far too grave for just a bottle of aspirin. Speaking of, said bottle was a twist-top, which Evelyn was none too happy with. Oh she could get it open -- she'd been constantly opening pill bottles throughout the past two days -- but with her useless wrist it had involved holding the bottle between her knees and twisting off the top with her left hand. And because that option displayed her temporary handicap more than simply asking someone else to open it, Evelyn held the bottle out to Jesse for opening as she replied, "You don't need to be sorry, Jess."

She meant it. Yes, there was the whole Account Thing, but she suspected Jesse was trying to apologize about a lot more than that... he would. And Evelyn held herself, definitely not Jesse, responsible for most of the misfortunes she had been dealing with. Sure, some other circumstances and other people's actions may have played a part, but she didn't focus on that. Because she didn't see how focusing on that could help her move on or learn from it and not let it happen again. Instead, she focused on analyzing only her own decisions and pointing out which actions got her where she was now.

He picked up the bottle, and opened it up for her, tapping out two, then, after a moment of thinking about it, he upped that to four. Then he handed them to her. "I am anyways. Just nod, and ignore me." he said, figuring that was the best course of action there. She wasn't the only one who was aware of other things they could be discussing. For him, though, they just faded into the background of his mind. They weren't nearly as important as her well-being was. Hands down, nothing was going to upstage that issue.

"Thanks," Evelyn took the pills, smoothly downing all four in one sip -- not a gulp, gulping stung a bit. She had finished off the toast and eggs, and got up to take the plate and fork into the kitchen before Jesse could get a chance to jump on it. She needed to do something herself for all the being taken care of recently, and it wasn't just with Jesse, either. There was last night with Dodge and the night before with Dutch. And, in her mind, they had all helped with incredibly simple things that she should have been able to do herself -- cleaning her up, simple first aid, opening a freakin' pill bottle -- that she felt like a bit like a child as a result. And that feeling, and the inevitable helplessness associated with it, was one Evelyn didn't approve of in herself. So, yeah, she was bringing her own dish to the sink;even if washing it wasn't really an option -- getting the bandage wet didn't seem like a smart move.

Jesse followed, but just because he was watching her. "It'll get better." he told her. "Just sucks in the meantime. You want to get some rest?" he asked, figuring she might. That she'd want to go crash for a while, and not have him hovering. He knew he did that, he just couldn't help it, really. It was one of those things, where he just...yeah. His instincts on the matter were far too strong to ignore, so he didn't try to. But that didn't mean he couldn't try to think of ways he wouldn't be able to do that.

"Yeah... I probably should," her reply came off distracted as she retrieved the milk glass from the table, finished the last bit left, and brought that into the sink as well. Today had been another link in a series of long, rocky days; and even though they had left her drained, she hadn't been able to rest even when when she tried to. The sedatives helped her sleep and sometimes fogged up her head, but it wasn't the same thing as a good night's sleep. Evelyn hadn't achieved decent sleep for well over a week now... with the exception of passing out on the bus. And boy she was regretting it.

"Go on ahead." Jesse told her, giving her a light smile. "I'll be out here if you need anything." he promised. "Unless you want me to run to your place and get you some things. I don't know what you'd like, or...I mean, you can borrow a shirt of mine and such if you'd like." It'd drown her and all, but it'd likely be okay for her to sleep in, anyways. And he was all about being as accommodating as he could possibly manage right now.

"A shirt'll be fine." She didn't think him getting stuff from her place was a good idea. Although it wasn't sprawled across her bed, Dutch's shirt was still laying about, and she hadn't gotten around to throwing out her ruined shirt yet. She didn't know why -- there didn't seem any point in keeping it -- and having it around bothered her... which was all the more reason to throw it away but she hadn't done so anyway. And there were the sedatives: even though she kept them in her nightstand drawer, the idea of Jesse being there made her nervous (even if she didn't think he'd really snoop through her things). And if her roommates were home, well... Evelyn liked them well enough, but she doubted Jesse would be too impressed -- especially with the girl she shared her room with (i.e. the Drug Dealer). She took a step back out of the kitchen towards the living room, walking to pick up some of her stuff off the couch so they could be hanged. "So... where am I at?" She didn't like the fact she would be taking either Jesse's or her niece's usual sleeping area. She would've taken the floor had he asked her to (but she knew he wouldn't)... but she wasn't so selfless to throw that option out there.

"Take Jessie's room. She can spend the night at mom and dad's house tonight." Jesse told her. "She's been wanting to anyways, I think her and ma have some project going or something." They usually did. His baby girl was creative, that was for sure. He crossed to the little dresser that held his clothes, and pulled out a shirt, bringing it over to her. "Here. And let me know if you need anything." He meant that, his tone putting importance on it.

"I think you've already got everything covered," she murmured, taking the shirt. Her tone was warm though -- soft and a bit tired, but warm -- even though she wasn't answering with 'I will'. For one he really did seem to have everything covered and, two, she wasn't one to ask for something if he didn't. Hell, on a better day she would've at least made some half-joking quip or assertation about his taking care of everything; ever since childhood she had stubbornly put out the 'I Can Do It!' line. But Evelyn wasn't up to broadcasting that right now. ...Just because she preferred not to display her not-quite-par moments didn't mean she didn't have them. And in those times she was more apt to accept instead of spurn the support that she could never bring herself to really ask for.

But she had caught the way his tone had stressed that point there, so she reached up a bit with one arm and give him a hug. With family and those like family, Evelyn did fairly decent on the hug-giving ...offering support was different than taking it, after all. And with talk of bodies in the river, she felt even more that she couldn't repeat the last visit. ... and there was the guilt; because for all he had done for her today, she still left her lies weighing on her. At that thought, she squeezed a little bit tighter with a "Good night, Jess," before stepping away and heading towards Jessie's room.

"Night, Evie." Jesse said quietly, having given her a hug in return, though his was light, not wanting to hurt her. He let her go, and sat back to start plotting what he was going to do with the little bit of information she'd given him. Because things wouldn't go unchecked. That was for sure. he wouldn't let them.