[ He doesn't acknowledge his awesome victory because instead he's focused on sitting on the table, trying to not drip blood onto it.

Jacob's jacket is so big on him it's almost only being held onto him by the knife itself. Still, he tries to not jostle it as he unbuttons his poor damaged deputy shirt he's wearing under it.]

This uniform was not designed for this much abuse. Gonna fall apart on me.

[ A soft chuckle because if that isn't fucking symbolic.]

Aight, sorry if I... you know, bleed all over you.

[ Like that's something he can control.

Under the uniform he is wearing an actual new shirt and not his gross ass undershirt he wore for 6 straight months back home. Small steps towards his retirement.]

Go ahead. M' ready.