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He had gotten adept at texting with one hand even though both were useable now. Jack kept his cast on just to be safe; his visit with Peyton had given him cause to keep it on just in case, though he could venture with small movements of his hand if he was careful. At least he didn't have to keep such a high dose of pain killers or antibiotics now...Though he kept his bandages on just in case. It didn't make him look larticulat festive, but whatever.

Naturally he only decided he should get a few gifts last minute, but he hadn't had the time or mind to go out, nor did he trust anyone to go get them himself. But he supposed he could start small, and so he arrived with a large stack of pancakes and waffles and syrup (stolen from the caf but at least fresh) against his chest and Barbara strapped across his good shoulder, and said, "Cripple coming through!" to get her attention.

"Eh, it took a little convincing, but she's infected with the holiday spirit, so. You know. Merry Christmas and all that s**t." It would have sounded dismissive, but he was smiling a little.

Ducking in past the doorway, he stuck his hand in his coat pocket just to make sure her present was still there. And there it was—right next to the runic dagger. "Surprised you didn't dye your hair like a candy cane or something for the holidays." He eyed the milkshakes and popcorn balls curiously as he approached, though the horse seemed most out of place. "Had a good time with your cousin?"

"He's not wrong," Jack said. "You'dve looked like a holiday prositute. Stick to pink."

Gingerly he slipped Barbara off and set her down. Then he leaned against the counter and accepted the milkshake, sniffing it first before sipping. "Mm...Doesn't matter to me," he said with a one armed shrug. "Pancakes and stuff are still warm, so I guess eat? I'm not that hungry yet, though; stomach feels a little funny from all the medicine." It didn't stop him from sipping what he knew had a little alcohol, though.

He seemed very mellow for someone who had been thinking a little too much about topics that made him anxious for hours and hours on end.

"I remember you said something about getting serenaded?" Jack suggested with a little grin. "I do know some holiday appropriate songs, believe it or not."

"Yup, dirty secret's out: Barbara's my real girlfriend, so go ahead and cancel the wedding."

Setting the milkshake down for the moment, he popped open the case and lifted the guitar out, gleaming black and silver (save for several small imperfections) as if just polished; along the bottom half was a vine and leaf motif. Jack followed Chel past the counter but settled on her couch instead, biting back a noise when he sat down a little too fast for his shoulder's liking. "Fffu..." He flexed his left hand several times just to make sure it would be okay.

"Was I really that bad?" Jack asked, looking to her with a slight frown. "I don't remember a lot of what I said or anything..." Vague enough to not exactly lie.

"Mm. I remember that," he commented, strangely placid. Maybe the meds hadn't completely left his system yet. "Not gonna lie, a lot of bad trips made waking up alone feel weird."

His gaze was on the strings as he plucked the pick out and idly fingered some frets as he tested the sound. Jack could maneuver them just fine now; it was more his shoulder that was a nuisance at this point, where moving his arm bothered it no matter what. "You doubting Owain's capabilities?" he shot back, brows raised as he shook his head and smiled to himself at some private joke. "Ooooh he's not too happy to hear about that at all. Thought you guys trusted each other. Next time he visits he's thinking about not letting you get another ride."

He paused his strumming to give her a look. "That how you wanna treat me on Christmas of all days?" Jack asked, feigning offense. "Sass and cheek? God, Chel, I thought the whole point was to be nice."

Abruptly he put Barbara to the side and pushed himself to his feet with a little wince. "Where's your scissors? I'm cutting some of this cast off early, it's getting in the way. If you have any requests, get them in now."

"Jesus," he scoffed. "Look, I went and got an x-ray yesterday and it looked fine." It was half-true: his arm was fine, which was what mattered right now. "Technically you need to use a special saw to cut it off, but I don't feel up to rooting around for one in the infirmary. There's only a skeleton crew there right now anyway, don't feel like dealing with that either." Excuses.

Jack held out his cast and drew a line for where the scissors needed to go. "You probably have more hand strength than I do. Just cut up to here for me."