Webster moves his attention to the closet, digging through some boxes and finding t-shirts and pants that would fit him perfectly. Even his name is scribbled on them. There's some stuff, though, that doesn't look like his and he wonders who's things have been bundled in with his own.

Webster's fingers linger on his jacket, turning slightly to face Joe. "Can I have some privacy?" he asks, slightly embarrassed. "I'm going to change so I don't sweat myself to hell."