[ The tense atmosphere only gets more so when she speaks, and Jesse looks up at her, slightly startled by the harshness in her tone. And by her expression -- he might be a little more worn than he used to be, but he's always been a good judge of expression. She's trying not to cry, and he doesn't understand, but -- he's so distracted, everywhere at once, that he can only half pay attention to that if he wants to hear her words.

It doesn't matter how long it's been. That's true enough, and Jesse exhales slowly. It doesn't matter. They didn't take his colors, they just covered them up. He wants them back. And if he wants them back enough, he can have them. He doesn't have to be dull, city-white -- he can come back to this. He could -- but he's not sure he wants to. His family... his family, he needs them, and he always has, and if they're all dead, he doesn't want it. He'll go back to the city willingly.

There's a long pause, and he looks back at her, gripping the table. ]

I don't want it if I don't got them. [ He says it truthfully, and the pain of the idea that his family could be all gone, not just his brothers but his Girl, shows up on his face. ] Sorry, miss, it just isn't -- it ain't the same. They're -- they're dead, they ain't --

[ Oh, god, saying it out loud -- his expression breaks, and he goes back to staring at the floor. ] Dunno how long it's been, dunno if Jet or my Girl made it, Party n' Kobra dead, thought I was dead -- Curse might -- might as well be --

I can't fucking think! [ He says it in frustration, and the cursing feels good. He hasn't said that word in years. They took so much from him. His gaze goes back to the other Killjoy. ] ... Tell me she made it, at least.