"Hey-" Jay grabs for Rook's arm, consequences be damned, as soon as they've crossed the street, not caring that the passerby have to stumble out of their way. The normally sleepy eyes are narrowed, seeming pissed but with a very obvious undercurrent of worry.

"I didn't say it'd be easy, did I?" His hand tightens around Rook's bicep, all but daring his brother to break his fingers to get loose, because Jay's not letting go. "But you're wallowing and I can see you digging yourself into a pit."

And given their experiences, they've both seen how dangerous that can be. How many poor suckers had ended up more or less committing suicide by proxy from destructive habits. While Rook's tougher than them, Jay can see the beginnings of those same troubling signs starting to crop up in the tough bastard. Like hell is he going to lose his brother in such a piss poor way.