A Devil's Bargain

Secrets I have held in my heart
Are harder to hide than I thought

Jude must surely look out of place in the Needle; white-faced, clutching a small bag, amber eyes flicking to every corner and jumping at every sound. Despite the changes made to it recently, the Needle is an intimidating building, and utterly unfamiliar to Jude. If he didn't have to be here, he frankly wouldn't choose to come at all.

It takes a painful amount of asking for directions to be shown to where he needs to be - or so he hopes. The odds jump to success as he knocks and opens the door to see Koa's familiar dark hair in the room he was directed to. More than a few people on the way here had volunteered their aid, but Jude had been insistent on talking to Koa and only Koa. Maybe that's insanity given...everything with Sohalia, but Koa had helped Jude, had been kind and charming the both times they'd met, and if Sohalia trusted him too then Jude won't risk going to anyone else.

Hoping the knocking and immediate entry will have granted him Koa's attention, Jude offers a wan smile and closes the door behind him, clearly shaken. "H-Hi," he croaks, and clears his throat the moment he hears the way his voice cracks. Slightly lifting the bag in his hands, Jude looks helplessly at the Dragoon. "I...I have a crime to report. Can you help me?" Please, gods, let Koa feel amenable enough towards Jude these days to want to help take this weight off his shoulders.

I'm standing at the edge of the world
Where do I go from here? Do I disappear?

Jude

I always thought I might be bad
Now I'm sure that it's true

"Come in," Koa calls to the knock on the door, expecting just about anything other than the visit that is about to unfold.

To call the room an office would be somewhat generous. The space is more akin to a closet, piled high with countless stacks of books and papers and weapons and charts, all of which are labeled and orderly, giving reason to the chaos. Papers full of neat handwriting sit before the young man, who appears to be in the middle of furious note-taking when Jude interrupts. It's a comical scene: Koa's wooden desk is barely large enough to accommodate his legs, but the soldier is doing his very best with what he has been given. He's been meaning to claim one of the renovated cells as a proper office, truly. He just hasn't had the time.

He's too distracted to recognize his visitor at first glance; when realization does hit him Koa's quick to look back up, hand skidding to a halt upon the paper, copper eyes wide with confusion and alarm. "Uh. Jude." His first though is that the boy has come to fight him over Sohalia, and honestly, Koa doesn't have the energy or inclination right now. "What are you...?" But his tone grows softer as he takes in the disheveled appearance of the other young man, and when he learns that there's been a crime?

"Yeah, of course. Here, have a seat." Extracting himself from the desk's clutches, Koa rushes over to clear a chair before Jude can collapse onto his floor. "Firs things first - are you in danger? Or is anyone else?" Concern draws furrows between his brows as he gently guides Jude into the seat. It's bizarre and surreal, being made to care for the man who is arguably his romantic rival, but Koa takes his job seriously enough to disassociate his work and his heartache.

At least, he hopes he can.

'cause I think you're so good
and I'm nothing like you

Koa

Secrets I have held in my heart
Are harder to hide than I thought

If Jude were here to fight anyone on anything, it wouldn't be Koa. He has found himself unwittingly on the young man's side through all of this - which is perhaps why he's standing here now, hoping Koa will help him despite all the reasons he shouldn't.

He hadn't realized how weak his knees were until Koa moved around the desk to guide him into a chair, and then it was more of a fall than a steady descent into it. Usually Jude has difficulties looking people in the eyes, but Koa's steady hands and wrinkled brow keep him captivated, helping to keep the panicked rabbiting of his heart manageable. He trusts him, even if maybe he shouldn't, and that's why he wouldn't speak to anyone else about this.

"Not anymore, but it might be something bigger." How does he even begin to explain what that means? Opening the top of the bag in his lap, Jude holds it up slightly to show Koa the bloodied clothes within. His clothes. "My brother - he was missing for a few months, and I've been trying to find him by traveling around. And I did. Find him, that is. In the Oerwoud." It comes out graceless and twisted, and Jude frowns at the bloodied garments in his bag, wishing he was more eloquent. "But a group of people attacked us." His throat burns, but Jude isn't sure if it's from twisting the tale or the memory of all that blood, his brother's calm acceptance of the dead bodies in the undergrowth. Regardless, it makes tears spring to his eyes, and he has to swallow repeatedly and look away to blink quickly, not wanting Koa to look down on him for being so easily overwhelmed. "I - I Channelled a spirit, and my brother protected us - but they wouldn't stop. He had to kill them." This time there's no hiding the queasiness in his tone, because Jude can't stop envisioning bloodied claws and shredded bodies, and he can't speak any further as a lump forms in his throat that makes him choke as he tries to swallow it down.

Turning his eyes to Koa - bloodshot and thick with tears - he is overcome with guilt and a selfish need for comfort he can't possibly ask for from someone who has been so irrevocably drawn into the mess of Jude's young relationship. "I-I'm sorry," his voice cracks, and he wishes he could contain all his perceived sins in that one plea for forgiveness.

I'm standing at the edge of the world
Where do I go from here? Do I disappear?

Jude

I always thought I might be bad
Now I'm sure that it's true

Koa squeezes Jude's shoulder as he settles into the chair, wondering distantly at just how sharp and slender the young man's body is. He waits until the boy seems settled before letting go, picking his way back to the too-hard seat behind his too-small dusk and hoping very much that he looks more reassuring and authoritative than he feels.

And then Jude tells him that there's been multiple murders.

Cool. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool cool cool.

It's not the bombshell Koa woke up expecting, and he knows he's very much out of his depth. But gods, Jude looks so broken, and it's taking all of Koa's self control not to go back around the desk and sweep him up into an embrace. Instead he does his best to listen with empathetic neutrality, not responding until the piece is said. And when at last the bloodshot eyes rise back up and meet his the Dragoon has to clench his fist to keep from crying in turn - that, or running out the door in search of an adult. For all his time as a soldier, Koa has very, very little experience with witnessing real death; he can't imagine what Jude has been through, the horrors witnessed on that fateful day, and has very little reference for how to comfort him now.

So Koa does what he does best: he simply soldiers on. "It's okay, Jude" Koa replies firmly, which is maybe a lie but it seems to be what Jude needs to hear. "Thank you for telling me. It sounds like this was self defense." He's nodding as he says it, maybe to hammer home the point, maybe to convince himself.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions, okay? To get a better idea of what happened." A reassuring smile is offered to Jude, trying to put the poor boy a little at ease. Collecting a pen and a piece of paper, he poises himself to take notes. "First of all - you said you were with your brother? What was his name?" He'll need to track the other man down to ask some questions.

"Can you describe the people who attacked you? How many were there? Did they say why they say why they were attacking, or were there any distinguishing marks or sigils on their clothing that you can recall?"

'cause I think you're so good
and I'm nothing like you

Koa

Secrets I have held in my heart
Are harder to hide than I thought

Jude leans slightly into Koa's touch as one strong hand squeezes his shoulder as if chasing after the touch that disappears far too soon, craving the way it had silenced the noise in his brain for all of a moment.

If Koa is freaking out, he's doing a great job not showing it, because the certainty of his voice as it comforts Jude makes his slender shoulders sag immediately. It's exactly what he needs to hear, even if the guilt gnaws at his insides. Maybe if he just thinks of that phrase as absolving Edmund it will make his own guilt decrease. It had needed to be done. It was Edmund or them - right?

Right.

His hands flex and curl against his thighs, nails catching on the slight texture of his fitted leggings. It's the only comfort he has for his anxiety, the only way to minimize it enough to nod slightly when Koa warns him of impending questions. He tries for a shaky smile in return, truly grateful if nothing else for Koa's calming presence. Clearly, he'd made the right choice in who to seek out.

"Um, Edmund. Edmund Ansel. He's um Maeve's son." Is that relevant? Jude bites his lip, uncertain. Maybe it would make things easier for Koa if he needed to find Edmund to question him, to know his relations and homeland? But as soon as he's asked to remember the people in that field Jude's pallid complexion goes sickly, and he swallows spasmodically. "T-They were calling my brother names. Freak, abomination. Traitor. But they didn't have anything on them visually - I think?" He sways a little as he tries to remember because he admittedly can't recall anything they were wearing. All he can see in his mind's eye is the blood and viscera, the contorted faces of people who had died in agony. Bile burns at the bottom of his throat, and he tries to swallow down most of the whimper that emerges from underneath. "Five, maybe? No more than seven." It's barely a whisper by the end, the anxious movements of his hands flattening out to spread over his thighs and go still, feeling queasy.

I'm standing at the edge of the world
Where do I go from here? Do I disappear?

Jude

I always thought I might be bad
Now I'm sure that it's true

Koa's brow furrows as he takes down the name, an Ancient face rising up from his memory. The furrow only tightens as Jude goes on, lips pursing in anger as he glances to the young man. "Because he's an Ancient?" he asks darkly, not looking for an answer. Ancient, Abandoned, Ascended - so long as people who are different exist, hate crimes are perpetuated. It's something he's been largely sheltered from, living in Stormbreak as he does, but that doesn't mean Koa is wholly oblivious to the darker history of his home.

His people.

Five to seven? Again he pauses in his notetaking, brows raised as he looks at Jude. "And it was just the two of you, taking them on?" he asks with some disbelief, though it is gentle. It's not uncommon, having traumatized victims embellish stories they recount. The fear makes a group of three feel like seven. "How did you manage to make it out unhurt?"

But also, seven lives? Koa licks his lips, sucking in a breath. He doesn't want to ask this question, but it must be done. "Jude - I understand that you and your brother were defending yourselves against these assholes. But I need to know exactly what happened. Do you think you'll be okay, telling me that?" He smiles, gentle reassurance beneath serious eyes. "We can go at your pace. Take all the time you need."

'cause I think you're so good
and I'm nothing like you

Koa

Secrets I have held in my heart
Are harder to hide than I thought

Jude can only shrug helplessly, uncertain. "They weren't specific, but..." well, yes. He would assume so. Even with all the lies and half-truths aside, Jude had intentionally not asked Edmund for specifics on why the confrontation had finally come to a head. It's not a burden of knowledge he wants to carry.

His disbelief is warranted, because even Jude isn't confident in his recounting of the bodies. It shouldn't be possible, but his face takes on a paler, more sickly hue. "My brother - he - his shift is -" his lips begin to tremble in an uncontrollable fashion, like he's freezing but can't feel it, which is only all the more panic inducing, "- a tiger. A m-molten tiger. I Channeled for help but I don't know if it did much or if it just...hid me." The spread hands on his thighs tighten again, because he can't waver around the reality that sits sick in his stomach. Even Koa seems ready to face it all head on, and Jude can only hope he's half as brave as the Dragoon in the next few minutes.

"I was useless," he admits in a whisper that's only audible for the size of the room. "I couldn't do anything. Couldn't de-escalate it, o-or get us away, or even fight back." His helplessness is so very real, and bile makes him swallow repeatedly, unable to force it down on the first try. He blames the collection of tears hazing over his vision on the sting of the acid in his throat. "I just had to pray, and hide and -" at last the tears break over the pitiful dam of his lashes, streaking over pallid cheeks that twinge with the way he clenches his jaw in a fit of self-hatred. Jude drops his eyes, unable to look at Koa lest the shame crush him. "Just watch as - as my brother tore them apart."

Both hands rise to cover his face, curling into himself as a sobbing groan comes up this throat. "'m gonna be sick," he whimpers, valiantly fighting back the urge as those vivid images rear their ugly heads the moment he closes his eyes, spawned by the darkness behind his palms.

I'm standing at the edge of the world
Where do I go from here? Do I disappear?

Jude

I always thought I might be bad
Now I'm sure that it's true

Even with a molten tiger shift in play, even if a spirit was channeled... Koa tries not to let the doubt play on his face, biting hard on the inside of his lip. It doesn't make sense, and as much as the Dragoon wants to believe the young man who trembles in the seat before him, his soldier's brain is alight with warnings that there's something he hasn't said.

But there's no use pushing Jude any further - that much is clear as crystal glass. "Hey," Koa breathes as the young man shudders, his voice soft in the small space they share. "Hey, it's okay." He's out of his seat without planning, kneeling at the boy's side. One broad hand rests on Jude's back, firm and reassuring, an anchor to this world. The other produces a small waste basket, half-full of papers and food wrappings. Koa sets it on the desk beside Jude, a silent offer if he needs to be sick.

"You survived, Jude." His voice is firm, his copper eyes seeking, patient as he waits for the boy to re-wravel. "Never feel bad for that." Even if your brother might be a murderer, a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispers, and a smaller, darker, shittier one adds: Even if it means you get to steal the girl I want, again.

But Koa ignores that final voice. It doesn't have any purpose here. This isn't about Soh.

But if she's dating a killer... Koa shakes his head. No. No. Jude may be protecting a criminal, but there's no way he is one. The Dragoon may not know many things, but Jude's innocence is something he believes in, deep inside his heart.

'cause I think you're so good
and I'm nothing like you

Koa

Secrets I have held in my heart
Are harder to hide than I thought

Maybe Jude should have counted the bodies before he came, but given he is barely holding bile in his empty stomach instead of his mouth just from the memory of their broken figures, he thinks maybe he can be forgiven. Or so he hopes - prays. Edmund is counting on him for this. It's all on him. And Jude can feel the weight of it crushing him down into the uncomfortable chair he sits in, making it hard to breathe - is it stuffy in here? It seems like no matter how fast he tries to draw air in, there isn't enough.

And then suddenly Koa is there, though Jude doesn't recall seeing him move. The heavy, warm hand on his back seems to be the ticket to helping him breathe, and Jude stares with too-wide, unblinking eyes at the young man by his side, hoping to the gods he doesn't leave again. Just as that day in the Plaza, Koa's inner strength and certainty seem to shine in his face, keeping Jude captivated and complacent. Without his noticing, the sickness retreats, visions of gore and death replaced with copper eyes and warm skin.

"How do you do this every day?" he asks, voice trembling. How are you able to still be so calm, so enviable? Tell me, tell me how to be like you. Jude's hand moves without his permission to hook two fingers into the front of Koa's shirt, clinging. No wonder Sohalia loves you. No wonder you tempt her - tempt me. "What...what do I do next?" For the questioning, yes, but also in general. Jude has never felt so lost at sea, and only Koa is keeping him grounded.

I'm standing at the edge of the world
Where do I go from here? Do I disappear?

Jude

I always thought I might be bad
Now I'm sure that it's true

How does Koa do this every day? The real answer is something along the lines of compartmentalization to an unhealthy degree and then go out and beat people up, but somehow that doesn't quite seem like the right response for the situation. Instead Koa offers a small, sympathetic smile, his left hand rising to cover Jude's, squeezing gently against the fingers that cling so desperately to his shirt. It seems utter ridiculous, part of him muses, that Koa is the one caring for the fractured young man. He isn't prepared for this, isn't good enough to be trusted with something as precious as Jude's vulnerability, and yet there is no force on this earth that could now tear him away.

"You keep living," is the gentle answer, copper-flecked gaze sincere as it meets those hazel eyes. "You live the best you can, whatever that looks like. You keep being good, because the world has enough darkness." And Jude is good, Koa believes that - has to believe it, because the alternative is too complicated, too upsetting to face.

He stands at last, knees protesting, and smiles down to Jude. "Now," the Dragoon says gently, "I'm going to get a map so you can show me where everything happened. And we're going to go through it again - slowly - and then we'll be done. We can take a break any time you want. Okay?"

---

It's late by the time Koa's satisfied, the details as clear as Jude can make them, locations and events and timelines sketched out. Koa raises his arms in a stretch, back arching, wrists rotating, a powerful yawn splitting his jaw. His rueful grin is apologetic as he blinks over at Jude. "Okay, I think we're done. Sorry it took so long." Standing with another stretch, he adds: "And I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

'cause I think you're so good
and I'm nothing like you

Koa

Secrets I have held in my heart
Are harder to hide than I thought

If anyone is not good enough, it is Jude. He straddles the line of morality even now; desperately trying to tell someone, to take what little ownership he can on Edmund's behalf, without incriminating his brother entirely. His heart yearns to do more, but his faithfulness, his loyalty, is just that little bit stronger. Koa's goodness is wasted on him - but he siphons it away even so.

Selfish.

So it's the least he can do to give Koa the truth available to him. To keep trying when the young man asks, even as his stomach roils. It's a sacrifice he's willing to make to try and repay the kindness he has stolen from the Dragoon like a hoarding dragon. "Okay," he murmurs in turn, and manages a small, wavering smile. If Koa bids it, Jude will obey.

- - -

Perhaps it's not the time to be taken in by something like attraction, but like most everyone else in the world, Jude can't help but gawk slightly as Koa stretches behind his desk. Luckily he averts his eyes before Koa catches him, but it leaves him distinctly starving - but certainly not for food.

A hug, you scoundrels.

Maybe.

"That's okay, you're good at your job," Jude excuses softly, wrapped up in a compliment that's painfully sincere. Standing as well, hands clasped in front of him to minimize himself in the already small space, his gaze goes a bit distant. "I am too, but the last skyboat to Torchline is going to leave soon...unless I take the one to the Greatwood which runs later..." murmuring to himself out of habit - he'd been a lonely kid okay, talking to himself is second nature now - Jude runs a hand over his curls and sighs. "Um, are there any late night street vendors here you know of?" For all his visits, Jude has rarely explored past the boundaries of Sohalia's apartment. A place he can't - won't - return to. It will be hours yet before he can sleep, unless he can catch a nap on the skyboat.

I'm standing at the edge of the world
Where do I go from here? Do I disappear?

Jude

I always thought I might be bad
Now I'm sure that it's true

Koa's smile morphs into a frown, his boyish face openly confused. "I thought..." He pauses, not looking at Jude, throat bobbing as his mouth goes suddenly dry. "Can't you just stay here tonight?" With Soh hangs heavy and unsaid between them, a palpable strain on the tenuous almost-friendship they've somehow seemed to form. It's a crack that waits for inevitable fracture, the woman whose heart they both had vied for. Whose heart they both had won- but Jude's claim was greater, and Koa's pride too great to accept a role as second-player.

Especially when he doesn't know where the young man before him stands.

Dinner. Dinner is easier, food a language spoken by everyone, especially growing boys. "Oh, tons." His voice is bright, too bright, too easy, a gilded mask upon his face concealing disquiet thoughts. "What're you in the mood for? There's a great kebab place on the way to my house. Or a couple bars that do late night eats - fries, burgers. Basic, but great after a long day."

It's not exactly an invitation, but it's not not one, either. He knows he really shouldn't spend more time with Jude, that the webs they've woven are already tangled so deeply he can barely keep them straight, and yet... and yet the idea of letting the younger man out of his sight clenches against Koa's heart, scratches at the part of him that wants only to wrap the boy in his arms, to see if that mop of curly hair would feel as soft as it looks.

'cause I think you're so good
and I'm nothing like you

Koa

Secrets I have held in my heart
Are harder to hide than I thought

It would be easy to say it's a mercy Koa cannot hold his gaze given the paroxysm of hurt and insecurity that plainly translates on Jude's face, but it's not, because it lingers long enough that it's not hidden at all even once Jude has averted his own eyes. "Um, no," he murmurs, clasped hands squeezing interlocked fingers anxiously. "We're...on a break. Or, well, I guess I am?" He'd been the one to initiate it after all. Chancing a confused glance at Koa, Jude chews the inside of his cheek. "She didn't tell you? I told her to talk to you." Her letters had said she'd been doing a lot of thinking, but there had been no mention of Koa, and it inspires a rare expression of something verging on anger that has Jude's honey eyes brightening and jaw feathering. He's not the type to doubt people, and certainly not his (girlfriend? Best friend?) but given her history of hiding things from him, he's suddenly not feeling entirely charitable.

It's a good thing then that Koa plasters on what Jude can tell is entirely faked enthusiasm, because it keeps the emotion from overtaking him. "Kebabs would be nice," he ventures with a small smile, trying for something more genuine than what Koa is drumming up, bolstered by the other young man's kindness even in his transparent awkwardness. "It sounds more exhausting to go inside and deal with bar crowds." And, in a vain attempt at chivalry, Jude opens the door to Koa's office and gestures awkwardly with his other arm in a half-bow. He doesn't want to linger on the nightmarish things he'd told the Dragoon in this office. Maybe if they get out of it, he can leave it all bottled up behind that door. "After you?"

I'm standing at the edge of the world
Where do I go from here? Do I disappear?

Jude

I always thought I might be bad
Now I'm sure that it's true

We're on a break.

Hope. Confusion. Frustration. Self-reprobation. Emotions flash through Koa's brain faster than he can process, the poor himbo rather unaccustomed to dealing with ambivalence this complex. "She did not," is the flat, tight confirmation, Koa's jaw working as he considers saying something more. But guilt claws cruelly in his throat, stifling any further comment.

For the moment, at least.

The whole idea of getting dinner is all the more ridiculous in light of this revelation, and as Jude holds the door open like the world's most adorable squire, Koa isn't sure whether to laugh or cry. It's really the cherry on top of what has been an outrageous day, the emotional whiplash from taking report of a mass murder of questionable self defense to getting dinner with your romantic rival who maybe has a crush on you and is now on a break from his girlfriend presumably because she propositioned you leaves him dizzy and out of breath. It's too much for him to deal with.

So he doesn't.

Nah, instead of dealing with any of this, ya boy is wading straight into de nile. Without much consideration he flings an arm across Jude's shoulders, tugging the boy out the door and out towards the bustling streets. "Right - kebabs, but we're also getting drinks. I'm off the clock, and I think we both more than deserve to get shitfaced tonight."

'cause I think you're so good
and I'm nothing like you

Koa