He crumbles when she starts crying. He doesn't know what it is in him that when a woman starts crying in front of him, he folds like a bad hand of cards. Maybe it's sexist, but he can't leave with her in this state regardless of what she demands so instead he stands awkwardly in front of her, having stood up when she started to scream, unsure of what exactly to do with himself.

"I'm trying to..." He wets his lips nervously and kneels instead, so clearly out of his depth but care still there on his face regardless. "Jessica, I'm no good at this. You've figured that out by now, I'm sure, but I do know pain. I do. I've killed, I've seen death, everyone I've ever been close to has died at least once. Hell, I've died before ever setting foot in Panem. I know this feeling and alcohol can't fill it, dying is no release. If you don't want us - me - near you then... fine it's your choice, but make it in a positive way. That's all..."

He leans his temple against the arm of the couch, looking at her and wondering if he should go get Barbie. She always seems happier around him, calmer, and who is he to judge codependency when he's the exact same with Jet.