Jack waited, breathing hard and suffering under the weight of their supplies, but he knew this was the end of their difficult journey. He watched Reyes through his scope, keeping the clerk in his line of sight as the exchange happened beyond him. He could tell that Gabe was acting drunk, which likely wasn't difficult given the sheer amount of blood loss the older man was suffering under. His finger remained next to the trigger, waiting and watching and trying not to allow his eyes to close.

When it became clear money was being exchanged and there would be no issues, he eased the rifle from the vehicle and packed it up so that it wouldn't appear quite so obviously as a rifle. Maybe it wouldn't matter, but he wasn't about to draw any new attention to them as Gabe stepped out and showed him keys. He was so damned relieved.

He shuffled off after Reyes, a surge of energy pushing him to catch up and set a hand on Gabe's ass as if that was required to show just what they were doing. He kept a weathered eye out for people watching before he was hauled inside and he finally - finally - collapsed to the grimy carpeted floor. He made a lame effort to shove one pack off of him, but he was laying on the other and that was as far as he was going to manage right now.

Jack knew he should help secure the room, but all he could manage was lay there on the floor and shivering. He made a small effort to shift himself to no be in the way, but otherwise, he had nothing left in him. He was defeated; he was broken; he just wanted to sleep and didn't particularly care if he woke up again.

"...oxygenate yourself..." he muttered softly. Gabe was going to need to breathe more than anything, but they needed to re-inflate that lung.