Grabbing up his coat, John shrugged on his coat, fixing the collar before snapping it straight. His hand rested on the box of religious articles and he took pause. "If we were somewhere than here, I'd send you to a friend of mine. His club is a neutral scene and if he couldn't help you, he'd sure know where to send you."
John felt bad for the brunette. Some pain some people shouldn't have to endure and he wasn't talking about the troubles he had in his youth because it was just that. Youth and misunderstanding. That no matter how many people told him he was weird, he accepted, however he didn't. He wasn't complicent, nor was he accepting. He was still searching and he found what he needed that night. Cordelia was in another pickle. She was accepting of her gift, but it was killing her and not in the way that John was slowly killing himself.
Exhaling, he stepped over to the girl, stuffing his hands into his jacket. He'd go see this Father Mackey later, but right then, John just watched Cordelia with quiet eyes. He was thinking just then and reaching over, he rested his hand on her shoulder. Leaning down, he crouched down before her, his hand sliding onto the back of her chair. "It's not complacency, Cordelia." He confessed, looking into her eyes. "It's acceptance. There are far too many people in this world that would rather continue life with blinders. Explaining away every eccentric moment, or even believing other's answers. You and I see different. You and I understand different and if you're complacent, then you'd just let it be. To continue on without change. That is the definition of complacency, but I doubt you're doing that. You're fighting and growing. You've accepted it and are dealing with it accordingly. Trust me, I speak from experience. Twelve step programs say that the first step in recovering is always acceptance." And he quirked up a weird smirk.