(exhales like a heavy weight's been removed from his chest, nodding an affirmative.) A little less than a year, yeah... nine months, then the rest in community service. (it feels better to get it all out in the open. he's grateful for sasuke questioning the sentence, not his transgressions.
it's not enough to occupy his hands with each other, reaching instead into his jacket to remove a lighter and his case of hand-rolled cigarettes.)
They argued the "dying mother" angle in court, butβΒ well, my stealing bit me in the ass. The more run-ins you have with the law, the less favourably they treat you. I was seventeen at the time and that didn't help; I toed the line between being tried as a kid or as an adult. (they expected him to be thankful he wasn't, that getting a year in juvie was a win.
humiliating. humiliating.)
I'm still paying for that... and I'm not saying I shouldn't be. It's just... branding, I guess.
[ He can't help it. The moment Jonas says "dying mother angle" he clicks his tongue, a note of severe distaste in spite of him mentioning it to begin with. It's something that should be considered quietly, but to be brought out in court... It's insult on top of injury in his eyes. ]
You paid for it. You hurt someone who provoked you and you gave a year of your life for that. He healed faster than that, I'd imagine, so to me it's extreme.
[ But that's Jonas's world, isn't it? That's something he has to remain ever aware of, just as he now feels the new weight of imbalance in their relationship. He's shared an intimate detail about his life; it would be wrong with how their bond has progressed to not do the same. ]
... I was also imprisoned, and also when I was seventeen. I didn't expect us to share that, but I understand what you mean about branding. If you ever need to talk about it, I'll listen.
(sasuke's disdain for his comment is warranted, and he can't say he didn't do the same in court. his lawyer warned him away from showing too much emotion. when the opposition decried his cold demeanour, he was prompted to show just enough to appear guilt-ridden. not upset, never upset, but penitent.
to hear that sasuke went through something like it jars him into straightening, lit cigarette hanging from his lips. it's plucked out, exhaled smoke waved off with a light cough.)
YouβΒ seriously?
(for what? a difficult ask, not wanting to cause him discomfort. sasuke didn't pry when curiosity struck its hardest, maintaining an open but respectful distance in case jonas became willing to share. he'll do the same for him, his friend, and bite his tongue. what a terrible experience to have in common.)
You know... the same goes, Sasuke. It's hard to go through that alone. (his father was the only one who visited him and he had a job to work, a sick wife to visit, medical bills from her treatments and the tim finster's recovery, the lawyer's chargesβvisiting him weekends and holidays was all he could manage.) All you want to do when you're in there is leave, but the second you get out? You think you deserve to go right back in.
(mindlessly offers sasuke another cigarette, the care he took to do them up obvious to anyone who's seen a pack of ordinary smokes.)
[ The smoke isn't shied away from on his part, instead inhaling slowly to savor a smell that carries with it a lot of old memories. Most of them unhelpful right now, and thus his exhale is far swifter. ]
Did you really think that? [ His head turns, eyes fixed back on Jonas's with a new reservation. A hint of a furrowed brow, sympathetic, but hesitant. It was hard going through it alone, but it was harder going through it with someone else. Why? The shame and guilt were more constricting than any ties they used to bind him, and now here Jonas is saying he thought a year wasn't enough. For hurting someone that spoke ill of his dying mother. ]
... I lost my voice. That's what I thought about when I got out. Just that... it took a day or two of practice for it to come back, but I wanted to pretend it took longer.
[ He moves to raise his hand despite himself, a sharp pang of discomfort reminding him of his own choice to keep it hidden. So he lowers it again, shaking his head at the offer. ] Did you do those yourself?
I did at the time, because it was hard to reintegrate. I never got to square it away with my mom before she died.
(sasuke's resilient, which isn't easy to hear after a stint like that. jails are created to tear people down into their constituents and build them back up into someone malleable, but he seems to have maintained the determination he's shown him. being able to weather that takes a strength jonas can't say he has.
pauses, then shakes his head a little.)
Sometimes you need something that's yours and... I don't know. Familiar to you, I guess. Even if it's the absence of something. (following his hand with a study of sasuke's expression after it's lowered, wondering why he's decided against it.)
It's easier to buy the tobacco and papers separately here. I ran out a while ago, so. (shrugs, niggling feeling pushed to the back-burner for now while they speak, protective of this moment and the information they're sharing.) I rolled plenty ofβ well, I just have a lot of practice with it. Even if you don't smoke, it's cool to learn how; I can show you sometime.
[ His voice is quieter then, as if speaking the words more softly will make it clear that there's a respect there. Not quite an apology, but an acknowledgement of this new kind of pain as well.
"Sometimes you need something that's yours. Even if it's the absence of something." Had Jonas felt that way, returning to a home with one less person there to greet him? But he's found that familiarity again in the little things, in prayers his mother had found comforting or in sharing her memories with a strange, quiet teen in a very foreign land. ]
With my mother, I think I also wanted to... [ His voice trails off, tone kept as low and cautiously level as before before its vacancy abates and he sits up a little straighter. ]
I'm fine. [ A pause... and he concedes, at last. ] I injured my hand, so smoking right now would be difficult. I don't want us to be talking about that instead, so I'll just say that I'll do it in the future. Though rolling them may be a challenge for me.
(doesn't look away from him, wanting to encourage the tentative search for common ground. it can't be easy to lose your family and spend so much time segregated from others, recalling sasuke's admission that living on his own is more familiar and more comfortable than being with others.
jonas would like to remain the person he's willing to try with, humbled by it even if the topic's a sore one for them both.)
Yeah. (only a single word is offered in response to the way he trails off, yet it still somehow holds all the meaning he'd like it to.
the shift in mood is gradual, grumpily accepting the news of sasuke's injury while wondering if this is something he'll do often. his sitting position changes, legs drawing into a very loose cross to better turn his shoulders towards him. when was he going to tell him?)
You know what I'm gonna' say, right? So give it here before I make a big deal out of it. (shedding his gloves slowly so as to not disturb his own healing, something he's been working on gradually as his strength's returned to him. when they're bare, one's held out expectantly with its palm up, residual energy burns faint.) We can keep talking, but not while you're in pain.
[ Jonas saves him from needing to provide more detail and he's simultaneously relieved and disappointed in himself, having a solid opportunity to practice saying it outright β like he had with Stiles, though the mood was decidedly more blunt and emotionless β but he's fumbled it. Another time, perhaps.
But... he's not out of the hot seat yet.
He exhales through his nose in a way that's suspiciously sigh-like, relenting with a careful raise of his hand that sees none of the fingers flexed. And for good reason. Three are impressively mangled, featuring bends that hint at dislocation or outright fracture, while all four knuckles are lacerated and swollen. It's clear he attempted to wash them off, though it was a poor job at best. ]
It isn't serious. I just didn't mention it because I knew you'd do this. [ How dare you. ] ... what was your experience like, being jailed? Were you treated well?
Isn't serious? (asked now that the hand's in full view, gawking at the job done on them.
no amount of delicacy from him is going to save sasuke's broken fingers from twinging painfully, but he damn well tries. he's never considered himself physically gentle, fingertips finding neutral territory on the heel of his palm, featherlight as they slide to his wrist.) Jesus, what happened? (little more than a distracted murmur, trying to figure out where best to begin.
he can't heal the breaks, not entirely, but his magic can set them and the dislocation. everything else is fair game.)
... hm? Oh, experience? (slouched in his lean closer to defend sasuke's own hand from himself, he huffs a command word beneath his breath and lifts his eyes from the wash of deep green casting off wave-like patterns of light. the healing sensation's probing but refreshingly cool, like water drying on skin.
gradually, sharper pains and deeper discolourations are the first to ebb.)
It wasβΒ I can't say it was "alright," but it went better than it did for others. I was a prisoner and... they treated me like it. Since I was older I didn't get much slack, but I did get a few perks for good behaviour? Like, extra time in the yard for exercise and stuff. (didn't get written up once, a point of pride considering how aggressive some of the other boys were.) The food sucked... what about you?
[ The wince and accompanying tension is unavoidable, sucking in a sharp breath at any unintentional jostling of his hand not caused by himself. Eyes focus distractedly out on a fixed point over Jonas's shoulder, reminding himself that pain tolerance is about mind over matter, and that he doesn't have to answer that question if he doesn't want to.
What happened?
Once again, Jonas is good enough to provide him with something else to respond to. Unfortunately, his own choice in topic was perhaps not the best. ]
The food was bad for me as well. Exercise would've helped... but I was kept inside my cell at all times, limbs bound and eyes covered. I had guards nearby, but none I was friendly with. It went slowly but it gave me time to think. [ As he's speaking he realizes that his composure is less forced than it was a moment ago, unable to stop himself from glancing down at the work Jonas is doing. Already it feels better, the slow healing of muscles gently urging bones back into place in a way that's disconcerting but surprisingly not painful. ]
... you've improved this much already. That's good, Jonas.
(wary are the eyes on sasuke now, in what feels like a third instance of doubt. first, his bloodlust; second, his possession; third, his full-body binding and imprisonment. comparing what he hears to a movie would be inaccurate, but what's immediately at the forefront of his mind is a question: what the hell did he do to be treated so cautiously?
is silent for a moment too long, finally blinking the sting out of his eyes. he kept them open for far too long, concentrating.) Thanks. I never really... applied myself till now. Feels weird to see the payoff.
(he'd like to enjoy it more than he is now, feeling heavier. would it be considered cowardly, not asking the questions he can feel himself purposely shelving, or selfish? the busted skin of sasuke's knuckles has already begun to knit together at its seams by the time jonas finds his voice again.)
Why your eyes? Shackling I get, handcuffs I get, but what's wrong with letting someone see?
[ The way muscles heal has him wanting to flex them, to test them, but his body instinctively warns him against it. The frame holding tissue in place is still broken even if it's aligned, and to try would be to again worsen his problems. Foolish... This whole thing, this entire situation he's gotten himself into and his childish way of coping with it. ]
Why myβ [ He glances up, cutting himself off when he makes eye contact. ]
... different shinobi are born with different potential. Some even have unique techniques available to them which are impossible for others to learn, and which are passed down through blood. I have one myself, and I utilize it through sight. It's far stronger than anything I could do with my limbs.
And they were right to do what they did; I understand and accept that. I was confused back then, and the things I did needed an answer.
(taken aback at the eye contact, not expecting it for reasons he can't define. jonas holds his gaze for one, two, three long moments before looking away with an inexplicable tightness in his throat.)
So that's what Stiles was talking about. When he said your powers freaked him out. Like, "physics-breaking," right? (it gives him ideas on how to proceed, but is he strong enough to?
all his life he's avoided consequences. that's what landed him in jail, edwards island, here. instead of letting things happen as they may, unfolding organically instead of getting placed on a permanent shelf in the back of his mind, jonas always has to delay the inevitable. he didn't reach out to his dad to cope with his mother's illness, he didn't make peace with her before she died, he didn't tell alex he wasn't feeling a campout party with her random friends, he didn't, he didn't, he didn't.
before he dies, he needs to. jonas wants to say that he did, hands holding sasuke's flush between his as the healing process continues and strengthens through direct touch.
his exhale wavers. the ill feeling creeping up the back of his neck already has some idea of what to expect, remembering their conversation by the fire.) Sasuke, what'd you do, man?
[ He wants to pull his hand back. Even the mention of his powers in that lighting feels like an extra examination he's not prepared for, raw as he currently is in the wake of an uncomfortable apology and conversation. Still, it's Jonas that looks away first and it prepares him to steel his voice, to finally address the accusations he was waiting for. Sure enough, they come, but true to Jonas it's a quiet question instead of a condemnation. A chance for him to tell his side.
But sides are only for motivations; actions are facts. ]
I defected from the village where I was born. Instead of staying with them I joined a man I knew was a criminal in order to increase my power, and when I got the chance I turned on him too. Back then it didn't matter to me what I needed to do, or who I needed to cross.
I attacked and tried to kidnap the brother of a world leader, and later when that man and an enemy of mine were at a political summit, I attacked that as well. I killed anyone who got in my way and planned to destroy my old village itself... to that end instigating a war.
The only reason I'm still alive is because I didn't succeed in doing half of what I planned, because I ended that same war, and because I had connections that vouched for me.
(every sentence, every word, every syllable gets worse as sasuke recounts his misdeeds.
"misdeeds," no. his crimes against humanity.
jonas' ability stutters into dark, leaving the hands covering sasuke's muggy in a flash sweat that heats him to the ears. they ring, drowning any explanation that follows his confession to a series of coldblooded murders, making him focus instead on his mouth. his own, dry; his tongue, thick; his throat, tight enough that his next swallow's loud. anyone who got in his way. anyone. men, women, children? who? why? why?
he considers staying to bravely ask questions, trying to cut to the core of the problem to glean some understanding from an issue so daunting he's been rendered speechless. then jonas remembers that he already went through this before, his curiosity damning him to oblivion. from his own mouth, "courage is not always the way, dear," soul too weak to resist being a puppet to the sunken. he's afraid; this time there's no one stopping him from quickly removing himself from the situation.
getting up, jonas murmurs something inaudible beneath his breath and turns to leave.)
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it's not enough to occupy his hands with each other, reaching instead into his jacket to remove a lighter and his case of hand-rolled cigarettes.)
They argued the "dying mother" angle in court, butβΒ well, my stealing bit me in the ass. The more run-ins you have with the law, the less favourably they treat you. I was seventeen at the time and that didn't help; I toed the line between being tried as a kid or as an adult. (they expected him to be thankful he wasn't, that getting a year in juvie was a win.
humiliating. humiliating.)
I'm still paying for that... and I'm not saying I shouldn't be. It's just... branding, I guess.
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You paid for it. You hurt someone who provoked you and you gave a year of your life for that. He healed faster than that, I'd imagine, so to me it's extreme.
[ But that's Jonas's world, isn't it? That's something he has to remain ever aware of, just as he now feels the new weight of imbalance in their relationship. He's shared an intimate detail about his life; it would be wrong with how their bond has progressed to not do the same. ]
... I was also imprisoned, and also when I was seventeen. I didn't expect us to share that, but I understand what you mean about branding. If you ever need to talk about it, I'll listen.
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to hear that sasuke went through something like it jars him into straightening, lit cigarette hanging from his lips. it's plucked out, exhaled smoke waved off with a light cough.)
YouβΒ seriously?
(for what? a difficult ask, not wanting to cause him discomfort. sasuke didn't pry when curiosity struck its hardest, maintaining an open but respectful distance in case jonas became willing to share. he'll do the same for him, his friend, and bite his tongue. what a terrible experience to have in common.)
You know... the same goes, Sasuke. It's hard to go through that alone. (his father was the only one who visited him and he had a job to work, a sick wife to visit, medical bills from her treatments and the tim finster's recovery, the lawyer's chargesβvisiting him weekends and holidays was all he could manage.) All you want to do when you're in there is leave, but the second you get out? You think you deserve to go right back in.
(mindlessly offers sasuke another cigarette, the care he took to do them up obvious to anyone who's seen a pack of ordinary smokes.)
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Did you really think that? [ His head turns, eyes fixed back on Jonas's with a new reservation. A hint of a furrowed brow, sympathetic, but hesitant. It was hard going through it alone, but it was harder going through it with someone else. Why? The shame and guilt were more constricting than any ties they used to bind him, and now here Jonas is saying he thought a year wasn't enough. For hurting someone that spoke ill of his dying mother. ]
... I lost my voice. That's what I thought about when I got out. Just that... it took a day or two of practice for it to come back, but I wanted to pretend it took longer.
[ He moves to raise his hand despite himself, a sharp pang of discomfort reminding him of his own choice to keep it hidden. So he lowers it again, shaking his head at the offer. ] Did you do those yourself?
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(sasuke's resilient, which isn't easy to hear after a stint like that. jails are created to tear people down into their constituents and build them back up into someone malleable, but he seems to have maintained the determination he's shown him. being able to weather that takes a strength jonas can't say he has.
pauses, then shakes his head a little.)
Sometimes you need something that's yours and... I don't know. Familiar to you, I guess. Even if it's the absence of something. (following his hand with a study of sasuke's expression after it's lowered, wondering why he's decided against it.)
It's easier to buy the tobacco and papers separately here. I ran out a while ago, so. (shrugs, niggling feeling pushed to the back-burner for now while they speak, protective of this moment and the information they're sharing.) I rolled plenty ofβ well, I just have a lot of practice with it. Even if you don't smoke, it's cool to learn how; I can show you sometime.
... are you okay, Sasuke?
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[ His voice is quieter then, as if speaking the words more softly will make it clear that there's a respect there. Not quite an apology, but an acknowledgement of this new kind of pain as well.
"Sometimes you need something that's yours. Even if it's the absence of something." Had Jonas felt that way, returning to a home with one less person there to greet him? But he's found that familiarity again in the little things, in prayers his mother had found comforting or in sharing her memories with a strange, quiet teen in a very foreign land. ]
With my mother, I think I also wanted to... [ His voice trails off, tone kept as low and cautiously level as before before its vacancy abates and he sits up a little straighter. ]
I'm fine. [ A pause... and he concedes, at last. ] I injured my hand, so smoking right now would be difficult. I don't want us to be talking about that instead, so I'll just say that I'll do it in the future. Though rolling them may be a challenge for me.
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jonas would like to remain the person he's willing to try with, humbled by it even if the topic's a sore one for them both.)
Yeah. (only a single word is offered in response to the way he trails off, yet it still somehow holds all the meaning he'd like it to.
the shift in mood is gradual, grumpily accepting the news of sasuke's injury while wondering if this is something he'll do often. his sitting position changes, legs drawing into a very loose cross to better turn his shoulders towards him. when was he going to tell him?)
You know what I'm gonna' say, right? So give it here before I make a big deal out of it. (shedding his gloves slowly so as to not disturb his own healing, something he's been working on gradually as his strength's returned to him. when they're bare, one's held out expectantly with its palm up, residual energy burns faint.) We can keep talking, but not while you're in pain.
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But... he's not out of the hot seat yet.
He exhales through his nose in a way that's suspiciously sigh-like, relenting with a careful raise of his hand that sees none of the fingers flexed. And for good reason. Three are impressively mangled, featuring bends that hint at dislocation or outright fracture, while all four knuckles are lacerated and swollen. It's clear he attempted to wash them off, though it was a poor job at best. ]
It isn't serious. I just didn't mention it because I knew you'd do this. [ How dare you. ] ... what was your experience like, being jailed? Were you treated well?
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no amount of delicacy from him is going to save sasuke's broken fingers from twinging painfully, but he damn well tries. he's never considered himself physically gentle, fingertips finding neutral territory on the heel of his palm, featherlight as they slide to his wrist.) Jesus, what happened? (little more than a distracted murmur, trying to figure out where best to begin.
he can't heal the breaks, not entirely, but his magic can set them and the dislocation. everything else is fair game.)
... hm? Oh, experience? (slouched in his lean closer to defend sasuke's own hand from himself, he huffs a command word beneath his breath and lifts his eyes from the wash of deep green casting off wave-like patterns of light. the healing sensation's probing but refreshingly cool, like water drying on skin.
gradually, sharper pains and deeper discolourations are the first to ebb.)
It wasβΒ I can't say it was "alright," but it went better than it did for others. I was a prisoner and... they treated me like it. Since I was older I didn't get much slack, but I did get a few perks for good behaviour? Like, extra time in the yard for exercise and stuff. (didn't get written up once, a point of pride considering how aggressive some of the other boys were.) The food sucked... what about you?
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What happened?
Once again, Jonas is good enough to provide him with something else to respond to. Unfortunately, his own choice in topic was perhaps not the best. ]
The food was bad for me as well. Exercise would've helped... but I was kept inside my cell at all times, limbs bound and eyes covered. I had guards nearby, but none I was friendly with. It went slowly but it gave me time to think. [ As he's speaking he realizes that his composure is less forced than it was a moment ago, unable to stop himself from glancing down at the work Jonas is doing. Already it feels better, the slow healing of muscles gently urging bones back into place in a way that's disconcerting but surprisingly not painful. ]
... you've improved this much already. That's good, Jonas.
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is silent for a moment too long, finally blinking the sting out of his eyes. he kept them open for far too long, concentrating.) Thanks. I never really... applied myself till now. Feels weird to see the payoff.
(he'd like to enjoy it more than he is now, feeling heavier. would it be considered cowardly, not asking the questions he can feel himself purposely shelving, or selfish? the busted skin of sasuke's knuckles has already begun to knit together at its seams by the time jonas finds his voice again.)
Why your eyes? Shackling I get, handcuffs I get, but what's wrong with letting someone see?
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Why myβ [ He glances up, cutting himself off when he makes eye contact. ]
... different shinobi are born with different potential. Some even have unique techniques available to them which are impossible for others to learn, and which are passed down through blood. I have one myself, and I utilize it through sight. It's far stronger than anything I could do with my limbs.
And they were right to do what they did; I understand and accept that. I was confused back then, and the things I did needed an answer.
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So that's what Stiles was talking about. When he said your powers freaked him out. Like, "physics-breaking," right? (it gives him ideas on how to proceed, but is he strong enough to?
all his life he's avoided consequences. that's what landed him in jail, edwards island, here. instead of letting things happen as they may, unfolding organically instead of getting placed on a permanent shelf in the back of his mind, jonas always has to delay the inevitable. he didn't reach out to his dad to cope with his mother's illness, he didn't make peace with her before she died, he didn't tell alex he wasn't feeling a campout party with her random friends, he didn't, he didn't, he didn't.
before he dies, he needs to. jonas wants to say that he did, hands holding sasuke's flush between his as the healing process continues and strengthens through direct touch.
his exhale wavers. the ill feeling creeping up the back of his neck already has some idea of what to expect, remembering their conversation by the fire.) Sasuke, what'd you do, man?
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But sides are only for motivations; actions are facts. ]
I defected from the village where I was born. Instead of staying with them I joined a man I knew was a criminal in order to increase my power, and when I got the chance I turned on him too. Back then it didn't matter to me what I needed to do, or who I needed to cross.
I attacked and tried to kidnap the brother of a world leader, and later when that man and an enemy of mine were at a political summit, I attacked that as well. I killed anyone who got in my way and planned to destroy my old village itself... to that end instigating a war.
The only reason I'm still alive is because I didn't succeed in doing half of what I planned, because I ended that same war, and because I had connections that vouched for me.
no subject
"misdeeds," no. his crimes against humanity.
jonas' ability stutters into dark, leaving the hands covering sasuke's muggy in a flash sweat that heats him to the ears. they ring, drowning any explanation that follows his confession to a series of coldblooded murders, making him focus instead on his mouth. his own, dry; his tongue, thick; his throat, tight enough that his next swallow's loud. anyone who got in his way. anyone. men, women, children? who? why? why?
he considers staying to bravely ask questions, trying to cut to the core of the problem to glean some understanding from an issue so daunting he's been rendered speechless. then jonas remembers that he already went through this before, his curiosity damning him to oblivion. from his own mouth, "courage is not always the way, dear," soul too weak to resist being a puppet to the sunken. he's afraid; this time there's no one stopping him from quickly removing himself from the situation.
getting up, jonas murmurs something inaudible beneath his breath and turns to leave.)