"I'd do it again," Jesse submits without hesitation, as his thumb presses hard against the lip of the bottle, enough to go white. He suddenly points at Finch, waves a finger a few times as he starts to clamber to his feet. "Only next time, he wouldn't be so lucky." There's an edge to his voice, almost sadistic. "Next time, I'd bring a fuckin' bat."

He let the bottle clunk onto the counter and then plants both of his hands heavily onto it, leans forward and shuts his eyes for a few long seconds with a minute shake of his head.

With a sigh, Jesse speaks up again, and his thumb taps thoughtfully against the countertop as he does. "It's not- okay," he says haltingly as his head sinks down for a moment, but then he looks down at Finch. "And I ain't gonna treat you no different, nothin's changed." Though a lot's changed, he's seen plenty tonight that he probably shouldn't have been held privy to and he knows it. It's gotta affect how he sees Finch now, if not just a better understanding of where the guy's coming from.

"You're not just that guy, Finch." Jesse raises the bottle a little, halfway to his lips. "Yo, if we were all just whatever our dads made us out to be," he cuts off and looks away from Finch again, glowers at the wall in front of him, and the rest of his sentence is muttered into the bottle before he takes a healthy sip, "we'd all be fucked."