In T.J.'s experience, the whole drug deals in dark alleys thing has been a painful cliché, nothing that ever really actually happens. Of course, back home, he ran in pretty high-end circles, had easier ways of getting what he was looking for. That's largely been the case here, too, except this one stupid son of a bitch apparently hasn't figured out how inconvenient it is yet, not to mention how easy to attract attention. It leaves him more uneasy than he should be, standing there waiting, checking his watch every few minutes until he decides that his guy just isn't going to show, which is more than a little annoying. He'll just have to come up with another way to get his fix.

He's headed just a little ways down the next block, phone already in his hand, when a noise from the next alley over catches his attention. Heading away from it would probably be wisest, but he doesn't really stop to think that through, too curious not to, pocketing the phone again as he heads in its direction. Whatever he's expecting, though, it sure as fuck isn't what he comes across, the creature in front of him one that looks like something out of a science fiction movie, not real life. Any thoughts he has of turning and getting the hell out of the way, though, are put to a stop when he realizes who's fighting it. "Holy shit," he says, though he's at least got enough sense not to go heading towards the thing. "Steve, Jesus, are you okay?"