Okay, then. J sticks his hand back in his pocket and falls in step behind the kid, walking in silence and trying to get a feel for the kid's tune. There's so much debris in there, it's hard to get a hold on it; he needs to strike a chord somehow, to find something that's true to who the kid really is, before he can figure out how the unbroken tune is supposed to go. Who knows - maybe the house'll jog something.

He heads up the stairs and pushes the screen door open, peering in. "Doesn't look like anyone's home." The house is empty - he can hear it - but he might as well keep up appearances.