Jones was many things, but mostly, he was there. He was as much a part of the backdrop to Dan's life as his job, his sister and his incandescent loathing of the world.
He was there when he went to sleep and there when he woke up, sometimes not having slept at all himself in the intervening time.
He was there on the rare occasions that Dan went out, though he'd invariably get annoyed by the twattish music and the smug gits who inflicted it upon them, grab Dan and pull him off into an alley to kiss him drunkenly and Dan would let him.
Sometimes he was there with him when he came, thrashing and swearing, laying on top of him and rubbing against him like a cat.
When Dan got out of hospital and his whole life was in the crapper, Jones was there. But he wasn't just there anymore, he was with him. And Dan thought that he might be alright with that.