makinglies | Respite

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faerun

Respite

The lake is dark and calm with a small breeze by the time they arrive at its shores. The stars above reflect perfectly in the still waters before them, and a small copse of trees lines one side, starting on their side of the river and jumping along the other side.

Chris takes a moment to re-prepare the spell he hadn't been able to cast in five years and gestures vaguely to the area around them as a suggestion for what the others can do. Gathering in the forest, sitting on a nearby over-turned log, it didn't matter to him. What he needed was an hour without interruption.

He settles down on the ground and presses his hands together as he closes his eyes to focus on the image in his mind. Within minutes, the white, shimmering outline of a large building forms in thin air. The gentle glow of its light barely spreads from the growing structure.

As promised, it takes the full hour before the slowly filling-in form is complete and finishes with a jaunty, echoing click.

Chris takes a breath, now sitting in front of the stoop that looks annoyingly like the one he'd passed earlier in the night, and gets back onto stiff legs as the glow fades away, leaving smooth, but otherwise unremarkable, white stone behind.

"Here we are. Home for the next however long we need. I'll start working on food and water next." Once they're inside, anyway, which is why he takes back his things from where he'd left them and leads them into the temple, marked only with the carving of ravens on the black wood of the double doors.

Inside is something just shy of opulence. The same polished white stone makes the walls, though black and gold veins course through the marble. The floor is the inverse, a black stone with white, shimmering speckles like a night sky if looked at for long enough. A single window faced East high up on the wall. The temple was alight with sconces at regular intervals along the walls, illuminating an open area that held all the offerings of comfort Chris could think of.

A large hot-springs-like bath, complete with a miniature waterfall, took up the left side of the room and ran into a smaller, similar bath at dog-height. Next to it, covered by a retractable screen, was a shower. Along the back wall, a raven's head emblazoned the white wall in black and watched out over a set of tables, chairs, and a couple of sofas. The majority of the center was clear for walking, but the right edge and right side of the room held a deeply inset pit of pillows, cushions, and blankets in various soft (black and purple) fabrics.

Finally, in the middle of the right-hand wall, there were two closed doors that, when inspected, revealed one room with a large, soft chair and rug, while the other room was made of nothing but stone with jars, pitchers, and plates on shelves along two walls and a cork wall perfect for catching daggers on the other side.

"I hope it works for everyone. I didn't...I didn't make separate bedrooms this time. I didn't figure we would need them tonight."

♥

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Selfishly, he's a little grateful she doesn't want to talk about that part right now; he's not sure he's ready to either. He doesn't interrupt, just waits and listens...but in the end, what she says isn't what he'd feared hearing...this he can deal with. How to tell her that, though...

"I suppose...I wish you thought a little kinder of me, but I don't blame you for not doing so. That version of me in your mind is built of something, whether it be your insecurities or mine." The urge to pull his hand away is there, but he pushes through it. She likely needed this more than he needed a moment of space.

More important is keeping her gaze. "What I need to put into words for you...is that this, the way you're talking to me now, is what I need for us to have any sort of relationship that will last. I can't...when I try to talk to you and every word out of your mouth is how my frustrations are earned, poisoned, daggers -how you deserve every bit of ire and prostrate yourself before me like some supplicant instead of someone equal and dear to me- it makes things worse. I want to be able to talk to you when we have problems, not turn it into a dance of self-pity. I can handle your insecurities and your struggles with worth, but I can handle the self-pity far less. We'll talk about what happened in Duplicity in a moment, I promise, but I...I feared even having this conversation because I wanted to talk to you, not your proken pride."

"I don't--" She bites her lip to keep from contradicting him. There's no pity for herself; she doesn't deserve kindness or forgiveness after what she's done. That's not pity because she'd think the same of anyone else who treated their loved ones the way she has. Saying that won't help though, and maybe there's something more to it that will make it easier to swallow this later.

She takes a breath, wanting to take back her hand as well so she can hold it protectively around herself. If she does that, she fears he's going to assume she's pulling back and that's not what she wants. She started this conversation and even if she hates it, even if it makes things worse for a little while, this has to be done.

"I hadn't realized I was doing that," she admits softly. "I'm not used to framing things about what's deeper in my heart. No one else in my life but Wolfe ever wanted that." Anyone else she may have hurt didn't need this either because she never hurt them as deeply as she hurts Chris on the regular. If they ever wanted something more, they'd ask directly and it wouldn't be during a conversation like this. "Sharing things like this is always harder when I'm used to needing to be strong for everyone around me." She sighs. "Which I don't know how to reconcile with the fact that I've been asked to not force myself to be strong when I'm still struggling with everything that's happened in the past day and a half."

It's so difficult and dreams, she wishes it wasn't. She never expected things to be perfect or easy on the other side of leaving Duplicity, but she wanted at least one part of their lives to be simple. The best laid plans and dearest hopes are always the first to be destroyed, though.

“Unfortunately, I’ve found sharing different parts of yourself or changing how you present those parts per person in your life is a necessary evil. I don’t want to add to your confusion and frustration of who you’re ‘supposed’ to be or what you’re supposed to do.” But he probably will. He also doesn’t get to choose what she sees as burdensome. He can only hope it’s deemed worth considering like adding a special gesture to their body language.

“I want to know what’s in your heart. In your head. I want to be able to help carry you when you feel too heavy because you’re not a burden if I’m willing and wanting to carry you.”

He squeezes her hand but loosens his hold in case it’s too much. Gods knew his fear and anxiety was crawling through him when his caution cried out for too much vulnerability. Yet this was his deal with himself. One chance to try to understand. To make clear.

“Wanting that is exactly why what happened in the city hurt. After Wolfe was taken. With the SLUT center. All of it. Watching you hurt yourself rather than try to lean on me or reach out felt as a slap in the face to our entire history. Your own pain was worth more to you than anyone else…that was what I saw.”

She sees where Wolfe's habit comes from now, the avoidance of 'how are you doing' in favor of 'what's in your head and heart'. It's such a subtle difference, but it's asking for such drastically different things from a person. From her, it's asking for those things she tries desperately to keep locked away for fear of what will be done with that knowledge. A rogue uses such knowledge to manipulate, cheat, and win over others. A diplomat and a king are no different in that regard. But that's not their aim, not now and possibly not ever. If it ever is, it's likely well-intentioned manipulation to get her to see something they believe obvious while she's so stuck in her head and ways that she can't see the light. It makes this no easier when everything she knows and has experienced - real or imagined by Duplicity - screams that this is a terrible idea.

Fighting it is difficult and she finally withdraws her hand so she can set down her work and cross her arms low over her waist. It's defensive, but dreams she feels like she needs it. Just for a little while. Against everything and most especially herself.

'You're not a burden if I'm willing and wanting to carry you.'
"I’ve made the conscious decision, make it still every day, to believe the people I’ve decided to love."

It sounds so easy when others speak of all this. Things she can do for others but not let be done for herself. It shouldn't be that difficult. It isn't, and yet it's somehow the most painful thing she's ever put herself to. She takes a breath and runs a hand over her face before meeting Chris' gaze again.

"You're right. I didn't see it or understand it then, but you're right and I'm sorry. I thought... I thought if I kept it in and held others together it would be better for everyone. I was held through my grief so many times in the city that I didn't want to ask for that help again. I realize now how stupid that was and how selfish that makes me. You asked and offered, but I was so determined to do things as I always had that I hurt us instead. I felt I'd let you and the others care enough already that I didn't need to do so again." She shakes her head, hands gripping at her elbows as she continues. "I was also afraid you'd tell me I was too much or had asked for more than enough after everything you'd already given. My heart couldn't take it if that happened, and I was so lost in my grief that I didn't think about more than taking care of the girls and protecting myself from those stray possibilities." Being vulnerable is difficult and 'her' memories told her it was a mistake, so she refused and only accepted the help she was bullied into. What a terrible, horrible thing to have done, especially to those she loves most.

She swallows audibly and forces herself to take deep, soothing breaths before what she says next. "With the SLUT Center in particular... I was too stubborn and proud to ask for help once it happened. It wasn't a failure because I chose to go, but what they make you feel isn't real and I didn't..." Another, shakier breath. This is the harder part to admit. "I was scared of being with anyone I knew and loved because of what happened with Wolfe before. I didn't want to possibly ruin or fracture another relationship, or make anyone think I only wanted them if I was pushed into it. I didn't want you to think I would only reach for you because I was in distress." She looks down at the wash basin. "I didn't want you to think I was only using you for what you could do for me, then did so anyway because I didn't want to lose you to my own foolishness. I know how ridiculous that sounds now, but in the moment... I couldn't put any of that together in my head back then."

She withdraws her hand, and he does the same, so he can gently wring his fingers. He listens to her explanation and finds he has little to say. She says enough for the both of them, and his agreeing with her felt already implied. Still, he offers a nod to at least let her know he heard. Heard and listened to be processed later. Besides, the next part holds the greater hurt.

He's quiet for a moment, and his voice is low when he finally finds his words. "I would rather feel used in a moment than know you let some random person use you like that. Not talking to me about it at all, to even ask is the greatest hurt of that. I don't want you to hurt yourself, but ultimately, there's little I can do to stop you if you don't give me the chance. You took my chance to comfort you and be there for you and twisted it into more pain for us both in the end."

His gaze falls as well, and his fingers turn tight on each other. "I will always be your friend. Your family. No matter how angry or frustrated you might make me...but I need to make clear that if...if you want a physical relationship, if you still want my love in anything more than a platonic sense, what happened can never happen again. You're right that I have my limits, just wrong as to where and what they are."

He gives a self-derisive scoff and looks back to the washing as he fights the urge to plunge his hands back into the water to do something. "If you don't want that sort of relationship, then I suppose you may do as you like so long as you keep your safety and Wolfe's happiness in mind, that is my bare minimum."

He's right again that she robbed him of his choice, and she winces at the realization that she hadn't thought of that. Something she always works to give her people and she took it from him as if he were some stranger or someone to be picked up, used, and discarded as she pleased. She did that to him. She chose that through her selfish actions. She hurt him so much he does the right and healthy thing to lay down his boundary where the deeper parts of his heart are concerned.

That part of her that knows she's unworthy of what love and affection she gets from others screams to withdraw further, to run, to go so far away that this problem doesn't exist anymore, to leave them all be so they can have better lives without her. If not that, she should at least duck her head so he doesn't see the way she loses any grip on herself that kept her from crying. As if he wouldn't know anyway.

Her face gets hot as she leans forward, pressing an elbow to her knee and her palm to one eye so she has the excuse of looking away as the tears start to roll down her face. Just don't be too down on yourself. What an utter failure that's been if she's fighting the urge to run and to tell him to forget there being anything more between them but familial ties. What does it matter what she wants anyway? A selfish fool like her, what does she deserve but to be rejected and to feel that hurt and pain because of what she chose to do to someone she professes to love?

"I don't know what I want yet, for us," she finally manages after a full minute of silence. "I don't... know who I am anymore. I shouldn't make any decisions yet." Except for not saying how much she thinks she doesn't deserve this much consideration again. She takes a breath and shifts her palm from one eye to the other to wipe away a few tears. "Can I have a little time? I hear you and I thank you for being honest with me, but I don't want to figure this out now while I'm trying to hold together enough for tomorrow."

Because the safety and happiness he wants her to keep in mind requires her to stand on her feet and keep her focus in the Shadowfell. If she thinks about this tonight, about anything but what's to come in the morning, there's every chance she'll fuck up and someone will get hurt, possibly even herself.

The redness and moisture on her face are hard to ignore, but he pretends not to notice for both of their sakes. She doesn’t want him to notice and he can feel the clutching coldness in his chest that will make any comfort he offers sound hollow and forced.

That alone should make the decision for them. They’d never been good for each other, even as friends, had they? Mirrors…maybe in the worst ways.

It’s a thought that slides more ice into his veins and by the time she speaks, he feels like the chill is on his skin too.

He nods. “For the best, honestly. We’ve too much else to manage…I just wanted to be clear. Thank you…for talking with me. For the apology.”

He probably owes one too for how he’d acted after Wolfe vanished and how jealousy for her grief had poisoned his reactions to her. The words don’t make it out between them.

“We’ll figure it out. Whatever we deem best, we have much longer past tomorrow.”

His fingers curl tight and his nails bite briefly into his palms, but he uncurls them quickly. He still had stains to get out of this shirt.

Too much. It's all too much and she can't even find the words to describe how. Trying to pull something together in the moment only ever makes things worse between them, so Amelia forces herself to take a breath, nod an acknowledgement of her own, and to wipe her face again. She needs to finish the alterations for Wolfe. She needs to keep herself together.

She needs to move so she doesn't do something else stupid and ruin what understanding they've managed.

"You're welcome." I meant every word. She keeps that part in as she gathers her work in one hand and gets to her feet. "I'm going to retreat now to give myself a little space to think, and clean my face before I finish this for Wolfe. My eyes are in no state for that at the moment." The continued slow stream of tears certainly doesn't help. Her lips quirk into something that could almost be called a smile as she slowly reaches out to him, dragging the back of her hand down his arm before she rests it on his shoulder.

"It's all right if the stains don't come out. Not all of them do." She squeezes his shoulder gently before withdrawing her hand. "Thank you for trying and for all else you've done tonight." Another hint of a smile as she withdraws fully, lips parting as if to say something else, but nothing comes. Instead she nods to him once more and walks as evenly as she can to the kitchen, setting aside the pants and supplies in her hands before washing off her face for just a moment too long for what she said she needed. It helps just enough that she's able to grab a towel and her work once more to retreat to the room she was in earlier to keep wiping her face until she gets the tears to stop and she can finish fixing the damn pants.

She retreats and it’s for the best. The space is for the best. The time is-

But she slides a hand down his arm in their way of things and the chill in him sinks deeper even as he offers his own lopsided smile and in that moment it feels like looking at his guardians a few feet and hundreds of miles away. Could he really afford to lose anyone else?

He’d spent so many years desperately lonely and only knew it for discovering what it was like to have people he could trust and rely on. He only learned what security felt like in Duplicity. What would he do or be if he lost what was left?

He swallows hard to calm the racing thoughts and Amelia’s retreated before he can think to say anything more anyway. Stains.
Not all of them come out…

That didn’t mean he couldn’t try.

Jon heads out of the study room after Wolfe, and his eyes immediately search for Chris. Alone and finishing up his washing. It seems the one piece still needed more attention, which... has to be a metaphor for something going on here. While he'd felt the fear and caught some stray thoughts, Wolfe had been sufficiently distracting, so his attention is on the cleric, searching for signs of tears or immediate distress.

He seems... closed off, though. A part of Jon wants to go to him for comfort, to press against his boyfriend and just be there without words or anything else but touch. The presence of Amelia and Wolfe both in the room stops him from doing that, though, not to mention other priorities. The Archivist needs to get on the same page with their resident rogue. Every time he talks to Chris, he just feels more and more guilty not telling him about what actually happened during the fight.

Amelia seems to be finishing up her sewing, so he approaches her carefully, trying not to charge over and demand. His voice is also low when he addresses her. "When you're finished, could I have a moment of your time, please? Just in one of the other rooms."

When Wolfe steps out of the room, the first thing he looks to is where Chris and Amelia are. They're about as far from each other as they can get without leaving the temple, which is sadly unsurprising, if not unexpected. It's in his heart to go to both of them, but he's only one person and Jon said he needs to speak to Amelia, so he blows her a kiss if she happens to look up and instead lets his feet take him towards the laundry area and the feeling of confused tension he imagines permeates the air.

They may be giving their relationship space right now, but that doesn't mean Wolfe can't be a quiet support as a friend. They were that first, and always.

Wolfe settles down against a nearby wall, making himself obvious but not obtrusive, and watches Chris' hands in the water. It's his first instinct to offer to help but the bunching of Chris' shoulders tells him it's not about the cleaning.

"Hello," Wolfe finally says, in Faerun's Common, perhaps a bit formally to make sure he gets the inflection right.

He can hear when his boys come back out, but he's just about finished doing as much as he can without wearing holes in the fabric of the shirt. By the time he rinses the thing, its discolored spots are noticeable, but not too damnably in the family of red anymore, and Wolfe seems to be the only one still with him. Hopefully, that doesn't end poorly, considering what Amelia had just told him of her last conversation alone with Jon.

His worries are shortened with that rather proper hello, but he still spares a smile for his mage while he's finishing his work. "Well, hello to you, too." He says it with his best 'noble' accent and cocks a brow. "Have fun with your practicing?"

"I did, actually. Jon is a good partner for study, if a little hauty about things. Normally it would bother me but I hope it made him feel useful." Wolfe keeps his voice low, in case Jon is in any position to overhear. The accent of nobility - so close to his own, thanks to Leandra Hawke's careful lessons - has Wolfe grinning just a bit. He's not sure if he's being made fun of or just the 'proper' manner of speaking, but its cute hearing Chris talk like that regardless. "We'll see how much of it sticks, but at least I'm limber for tomorrow."

Glancing at the water, Wolfe has to resist the urge to idly swirl it with his magic. It should be odd, falling into remembering not to cast, but it just feels familiar. A bit depressingly, though thankfully its for another reason besides hiding. "How did your talk with Amelia go? Unless you don't want to talk about it. I'll understand if its just between you, but I'm asking as your friend and not as her boyfriend."

He will allow Chris the room to not make that disconnect. Wolfe has always been one to blur the lines at least a little, even if he knows himself capable of keeping that separating if necessary, like right now. He can't deny that he wants to know, but mostly he thinks it would be best for Chris to talk to someone about what's in his head.

He hangs the shirt with a smirk. "He's a brat often, but it is cute when he gets all pompous about what he knows. I'm glad you two are working together on it." Maybe it's less endearing to someone not in love with Jonathan Sims, but that could be said about some of Wolfe's habits as well.

Speaking of less endearing...

Wolfe asks his question, and for a moment, Chris's expression is back to one of careful neutrality. At least until he turns his attention back to Wolfe and he remembers not to play the politician. He shrugs and sighs. "Fine. For the most part. She did explain that she talked to you about what happened before...which was why I was so irritated at the lake. For the rest, for me and her...I made myself clear, and she asked for time to think on it. I think that's the best we can expect right now. Nothing's fixed...can't even promise it's better, but we talked."

"I sort of figured, after she told me," it comes out as a sigh, but a commiserate one. "She's never been good with grief. I found it strange at first but considering she also never allowed herself to be close to anyone before Duplicity, it makes sense."

He resists the urge to lay some of the blame at his own feet, again reminding himself that his being taken away was not his fault, nor were the reactions of those who lost him for that time. "I think it's better to have it out in the open, at least. You can't move forward through closed doors."

Leaning back, Wolfe considers the spider markings around the top edges of the walls. Chris never likes being looked at when they're talking about emotional subjects. "Do you feel alright about how you left it for now?"

It takes more than a little bit of effort not to roll his eyes or scoff about Amelia's reactions making sense. Sometimes, yes, other times...he feels he'd have more in common with a stranger. She's trying. And Wolfe's right about their need for communication. They always needed to air out their issues; rarely had time and space alone been enough.

He turns and dries his hands and starts work on putting up the laundry things even if he doesn't actually need to by all rights. "Mostly, I suppose. I took the chance to apologize for my part in our...strife. I also told her that I'm open to having a more...intimate relationship. However, I also told her that should she ever do something as she did at the end there again that relationship would be rescinded. The number of times I can hear 'I'll do better, I swear,' and be faced with the same problem over again is limited."

He tries not to let bitterness seep into his tone, but isn't quite as successful as he'd like, especially when it comes to Wolfe's keen ears. He sighs and turns back to his mage, arms folding tight in front of him. His voice is quieter when he speaks next. "Just so you know what was said as well."

Listening quietly, Wolfe shifts so he can help with some of the pinning up. Sitting still while Chris did all the washing was the most he could not help.

Honestly, he's proud of Chris and Amelia. This is hard, but in his experience nothing worth having ever easy, not at first. And this is still 'at first' for them having a physical relationship with each other, especially Chris with a woman. It's not been terribly long and there have already been some exceptional ups and downs. It's about time they had a talk regarding boundaries, let alone how they want to be with each other.

"Can I tell you what I think?" He starts, but is cut off by Jon's voice sounding across the temple. Wolfe smiles the patient smile of the oft-interrupted and shrugs. "...Or we can see what it is Jon's been so cagey about today."

Chris nods. He did want to hear what Wolfe thought, even if it might or might not change how he thought or felt himself...but then Jon calls to them, and Chris gives a small smile.

"Maybe later, then...and I don't think he's been too cagey. He and Amelia had a tiff earlier; he probably just sounds like that."

Regardless, he heads out from the laundry area to meet back up with their other halves.

"I'm already done." She could hear Jon's approach and knew Wolfe wasn't coming to her from the sounds of their movements, so she'd focused on finishing the last of a triplet of leaves on one side of the mage's trousers. Familiar shapes that don't have a place anymore, but she didn't know what else to do; her hands needed work and her head needed the space that provided. Now she gets to stare at the work and know she did it reflexively rather than doing it for a purpose. That... fuck, she'll deal with it later.

She gets to her feet, pushing aside the trousers and the gathered sewing materials, including her knife. If it comes to violence again, she'll use her fists. She hopes beyond all else that it won't come to that.

Once they've moved into a room and closed the door, Amelia crosses her arms low over her chest and forces herself to take a breath as she looks at Jon. "What is it you need? You have my full attention." She's had enough of her own thoughts for a while, so she'll take the diversion no matter what form it takes.

It's far more immediate than he'd expected, but it's probably better to get this over and done with sooner rather than later. Jon follows her back into the study he'd just been in with Wolfe and eyes her. Her posture is defensive, but he can't exactly fault her for that. The Archivist doesn't grovel, but he does lower his gaze and head slightly in deference.

"First and foremost, I owe you an apology. I lost control of myself and was on the verge of properly attacking you and your mind." There's a long pause before he adds, "Thank you for stopping me. It's what needed to be done, and I'm grateful you didn't hesitate."

He doesn't apologize for what he'd said, though. That he has little guilt over. He does keep his eyes down and waits for a response before pressing ahead with the more delicate matter he needs to discuss.

An apology is unexpected, but this entire day has been full of that. She has a feeling it's motivated less by an actual desire to apologize than to keep the tense peace that exists in this temple and she finds she doesn't care. They need to learn to put things behind them or at least to be angry in the moment and then let it go. It helps this particular case that she doesn't want to think about their topic of conversation, not yet.

She nods. "Apology accepted. If there's ever a need for something like that in the future, I won't hesitate then, either." Even if Chris gets angry with her about it. Better to ask forgiveness if it means preventing worse things from happening for their group. "For all of our sakes, I'll avoid being recklessly violent with you wherever possible."

He won't get an apology from her for her words or her actions. She still believes she's right about herself and she was already honest with Chris about the fact that she punched Jon, if only mostly about why. All else can remain unsaid.

"What else is on your mind?" She arches a brow at him, not accusing him of anything but clearly expecting it to be more important than his apology. What it could be, she truly doesn't know.

Jon mentally thanks whatever gods might be listening for how smoothly that had gone. This is the easier part, but she could have pressed back, refused the apology, told him it wasn't enough. But that's done and they can move along.

"I've told Chris and Wolfe we had an argument... I haven't gone into specifics or what I did to you. I wasn't-" Jon sighs, running his hand through his hair briefly. "Neither of us wants to have those two fussing after us, and they will if they find out I threatened you like I did. I can keep the specifics between just the two of us, or I can tell them. I don't imagine they'll be upset with you, just... wanting to help. I, uh... I took a Statement from Wolfe once. We fixed it, but it happened. He'll likely be more protective of you. I wanted to get your... permission? Consent? I wanted you to weigh in on if you want them to know about that.

"I don't care about them being mad at me, but I don't want you to feel like they're being over-protective when we're all already on edge. If you don't want to deal with it, I mean."

"I know what happened with Wolfe. We were living together at the time, and he explained the incident to me." After she'd pulled him away from working the bar so he could rest his aching feet. It's because of that very incident that she understands how abilities work and why what happened in the woods was so dangerous. If he'd gone any further in his pressing or she hadn't raised a hand to him, tonight could have been very bad for them both. Tomorrow morning could've been worse.

She sighs heavily and rubs her arms. "Chris knows I struck you after we argued. Wolfe should know that as well." But how much more to tell? The whole of it will have everyone up in arms about it and that's the last thing she needs right now. Hiding the truth will only make things worse if it comes out later, though.

Dreams, she wishes she'd shoved him off sooner to avoid all of this.

"We should tell them. Impress on them that nothing is wrong and we're both fine. I didn't give you a Statement and there's little danger of me doing so now that we're all back in the temple. They don't need to fret or be angry at more than the fact that we got into that mess in the first place." There will be some no matter what they do, but hopefully it can be minimized. "We can't lie to them about this or it'll bite us in the ass later, and that's something I'd like us both to avoid."

He's a little surprised to hear she told him that, and he's eyes shoot up briefly along with his brows to search her face for the reaction Chris might have had. He hadn't barged in on Wolfe and Jon, so presumably he thought it fine enough. Given the lack of actual injuries to Jon's person, the cleric almost certainly deemed it acceptable.

Jon drops his gaze again and nods briefly. He thinks to offer that he could take a secret to his grave, but even then, he'd be dealing with Chris and Wolfe and their damnable insights... not to mention the perpetual guilt. There are enough reasons for that without adding on lying by omission to his boyfriend and friend. A boyfriend who has asked him in the past to be open and honest about these sorts of things.

"Okay. I'll ask- Please let me tell them, if you would. Unless you'd like us to explain with all four of us together there."

What she wants is for this whole thing to be over with already. What they have is a knotted thread that needs to be untangled for all to see. Hiding away while Jon tells the others likely won't help the situation, even if she wishes it could be that simple.

"I think we should both be present when they're told. I'll let you take the lead in explaining and offer comment when needed." She frowns softly at him. "We should tell them sooner than later. Even a day or two's delay could land us both in hot water."

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