"Whatever, man. Believe what you want." Jim's voice is terse again, belying the seemingly nonchalant roll of his shoulders. He could say more than he has, a lot more, but he knows from experience just how stubborn Gamble can be. Trying to convince Brian of anything has always been an exercise in frustration and futility, and Jim would rather not waste the air. Or his own patience.

"And you look like shit." Street rubs a hand down his face and winces as his fingers encounter the bruises under his eyes. "I feel like shit."