Tony's quiet for a spell. It honestly hadn't occurred to him to go find the shooter and balance things. That Jack's telling him— that's fucked up. Makes him an accessory or...something. Aiding and abetting. It should freak him out. Jack's world is different from his. He's a normal person. There's no retaliation violence in his life. There's "I called the police like an upright citizen".

"Good." It's a calm verdict. In fact he's surprised just how calm it feels. No panic, no revulsion. He just feels...

Justified. That's the word he's looking for. Like Jack did the right thing. By every definition of the law what it was was wrong. But Jack did the right thing. Apparently they're bonding after all. Now that... That fact is truly revolting. Tony scrapes the sides of his container, shoves the dregs of what's left in his mouth and drops all the trash in the can under the table, the only place for it in this cramped kitchenette.

"Cops come calling you hide in the bathroom. I'm not explaining to your daughter where Daddy went." Alright? Alright. Standing up he looks down at Jack. Time to make that choice. But it was never really a choice to begin with, now was it. "Come on. Off my floor. You smell like blood and hospital spongebaths. Not your most marketable fragrance."