John could practically feel the anger radiating off of you in waves. Strong, intense, unforgiving. Not that he deserved forgiveness, of course, but he wouldn't admit that. He had been a fool and killed someone, again. Just as the three of you — You, Jack, and himself — were starting to settle down again, he went and screwed everything up, as he always did.

Now, you were heading to Strawberry, looking to start anew. Again.

He casted you a sidelong glance, shifting uncomfortably. You weren't very talkative today, rightfully so. Still, he didn't want to endure the silence. "'S been a while since we've been t'Strawberry, ain't it?" he tried, taking his eyes of the road to look over at you. Nothing. He tries again. "Brings back... memories. 'S funny, 'cuz instead of robbin' the stores', we'll be workin' in 'em." he huffed out a raspy laugh, which also fell flat. Damn, you really were mad.