The compliments he's getting, they should really serve to make him feel better about himself, and maybe they do, before they get all twisted inside of him, confused somehow. Jesse should be relaxing but he tenses up instead, bristles and takes his hands off the counter to fold his arms in some kind of defense. He can't help it. He's never heard anything like it before.
And he really doesn't know what to say to it. He's quiet for a while again, rocking a little in his spot and rubbing his hand up and down his arm. He's not a hero, he's never gotten to be the hero, even if Finch is making him sound like one now. If he can help one person out here, fine, that's great, but he's got a lot to make up for and even at this he's doing a fairly paltry job, most of the time. It's hard for him, both here and back home, to try to do something worthwhile and not manage to be, to borrow the word Finch so adequately uses, useless.
"I'm tryin'," he finally concedes, his voice guarded and very hesitant, and he doesn't look at Finch. He holds out a hand and waves it around in a bit of a circle, drumming up what he wants to say. "Look, I know I ain't so good at this gig sometimes, but, it's like- It's worth it. Tryin'." Because Finch is worth trying for, he supposes. Best friend he's ever had. First real one he's ever had. And he's not really sure what to do with that. But if he's no help to Finch then he's no help to anybody here, and what good is he then?
It's not a bad feeling, when it gets down to it, being validated like that, and Jesse belatedly smiles at the counter, a flat-lined and tired little thing as his arms go back to being folded. But he glances up at Finch with it, the smile, doesn't really know how to thank him or what to do with that responsibility of having been the first person to stand up for him like that. "You're gonna be alright, Finch."
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And he really doesn't know what to say to it. He's quiet for a while again, rocking a little in his spot and rubbing his hand up and down his arm. He's not a hero, he's never gotten to be the hero, even if Finch is making him sound like one now. If he can help one person out here, fine, that's great, but he's got a lot to make up for and even at this he's doing a fairly paltry job, most of the time. It's hard for him, both here and back home, to try to do something worthwhile and not manage to be, to borrow the word Finch so adequately uses, useless.
"I'm tryin'," he finally concedes, his voice guarded and very hesitant, and he doesn't look at Finch. He holds out a hand and waves it around in a bit of a circle, drumming up what he wants to say. "Look, I know I ain't so good at this gig sometimes, but, it's like- It's worth it. Tryin'." Because Finch is worth trying for, he supposes. Best friend he's ever had. First real one he's ever had. And he's not really sure what to do with that. But if he's no help to Finch then he's no help to anybody here, and what good is he then?
It's not a bad feeling, when it gets down to it, being validated like that, and Jesse belatedly smiles at the counter, a flat-lined and tired little thing as his arms go back to being folded. But he glances up at Finch with it, the smile, doesn't really know how to thank him or what to do with that responsibility of having been the first person to stand up for him like that. "You're gonna be alright, Finch."