Holy shit. [ It's out of his mouth before he can think better of it—or think at all. Up close, the guy's in even worse shape. Spooked, fried. Jupe's seen wooden cowboys with more lifelike eyes. And definitely nicer smiles. ]

Who? No, I'm— [ At a loss, he raises his shopping basket, jiggling the contents. He breathes in, telling himself to take it slow. ] Nobody sent me. I'm just a guy. Shopping. [ The shaking's hard to take his eyes off of, but he's not sure what to do about it either. Pile another winter coat on the guy? Or maybe he's an alcoholic.

Jupe turns a lazy circle, trying to give the appearance of scoping out the prices lining the aisle. Doesn't look like anyone's noticed them yet: good. He lowers his voice even more, glancing at the other man's hands for a hospital bracelet. Or something. ] Were you in some kind of an accident? What's your name?