[ Jesse blinks. He turns to the stranger, this trench-coated guy who looks like he just walked out of an apocalypse-themed thrift store, calm as hell while Jesse’s practically vibrating with all the leftover adrenaline. He kind of looks like a cop, but not the kind Jesse’s used to; there’s no flex in him, no ego. Just stillness. The kind that makes Jesse want to flinch for no reason at all. Like the guy can see through him without even trying. ]

You can get it out? [ Jesse's voice is flat, skeptical, as he nods toward the van, nose-deep in roadside muck. ] Listen, yo, unless you got a tow cable stashed in that coat, I don’t see how.

[ Jesse lets out a breath, runs a hand over the back of his neck, tension still tight across his shoulders. He mutters a curse under his breath, then looks back at trench coat guy. ]

I dunno, I mean...if you’ve got some way to do it? Hell, I’m not picky. Just don’t expect me to believe you got some miracle tucked in your pocket or whatever.

[ It’s not quite sarcasm. More like guarded hope dressed up in a scowl. Jesse’s not used to anyone offering help without a catch, let alone someone who does it like it's no big deal. He steps back toward the van, gravel crunching underfoot, the driver who caused the fiasco deciding to get back in his car and drive off. Not his problem. Jesse motions towards the van with a half-hearted shrug. ]

Guy was lucky my ribs hurt too much to throw down.