It takes Jack a considerably shorter amount of time to get anywhere than it does Sinclair, for obvious reasons, and not twenty minutes later Sinclair opens the door to let him in.

He looks...well, he's looked worse. There's that at least. But the Sister Juice is definitely present, green smudges along his collar and sleeves like she's tattling on him from beyond the grave. But the jitters are gone, his color is better. A bad decision with somewhat preferable outcomes. Not everything can be cut and dry, Sinclair just wishes the consequences weren't so looming.

"Why don't you give me that old thing," Sinclair gestures at Jack's sweater. "I'll see what I can do about getting the stains out. Hungry?"