So it seemed as though Jack had at least some kind of influence over him. Enough to make him do things, anyway, which honestly actually made Jack feel a little proud of himself. "There, see? Not so hard, is it?" He remarked as John began to scrub himself. He moved around back of him, releasing John's wrist and scrubbing at his back, particularly in the harder-to-reach areas that might have otherwise gone neglected.

"I'm mad at you, there's not supposed to be much love at all." Jack's voice was flat and his movements clinical and methodical. "You pull a gun on a friend of mine and start making demands after I'd trusted that you were going to behave for me, of course I'm going to be upset. Doesn't matter if the gun was loaded or not working, accidents still happen." He leaned in to look at John's face and address him more directly. "You're unpredictable and hard to trust." If John were to look at Jack, he'd see that he actually looked a little hurt. "I hate that I can't trust you. I used to put my life into your hands, and now I can't trust you with anything. Maybe I'm not the one who changed."