Couch, yes, definitely a good plan. Becker let himself be guided around, sinking into the comfortable space and leaning against Jack. For the first time in days he felt able to relax, letting go of the control he had kept so tightly around himself and allowing himself to just breathe for a bit. It was the affect Jack had on him, and Becker was just so damn grateful for it.
"You never asked to be immortal, didn't seek out power like that, even though I am, for the record, grateful for it. I like you not being dead." He'd lost too many over the years. Far far too many. "It's just part of you. I don't even think it's that big a part. It happened to you, now you do the best you can with it. Anyone who doesn't respect that is a moron." Becker had seen people crave power, admittedly not immortality in the sense Jack had, but political power, military power, Helen Cutter. There was always a difference between those who hunted it down and those like Jack who had it given to them whether they wanted it or not. And Jack chose to help people with his power, and really, what was better than that?
"Hey, it's not my fault Danny lost my very very manly gun." Becker actually pouted. There was a legitimate pout on his lips. "Though I admit, never had a fancy coat. Never went with the whole black outfit thing I've had going for years." Camo gear, military black, bullet proof vests, thigh straps. Never a fancy coat.