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[listentomystory]

It was later in the night when Jude finally decided he should head back to check on Max. He figured Lucy had left by then, or at least hoped that she was gone. He didn't want to fight anymore, he wanted to go back and make things alright. He didn't want to let the wound bleed any longer, so he absently knocked on the door. He was quiet at first,

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[so_heavy]

Considering what had happened earlier, Lucy wasn't exactly prone to leaving Max alone. Apparently she found a measure of security in knowing she'd done away with what little morphine he had left, however, as she'd gone to the Compound to get something to eat, or maybe cry her eyes out or whatever girls did. While Max wasn't going through withdrawal in the strictest sense, having only taken half a syringe, he was nonetheless uncomfortable and completely lacking an appetite. So, he'd stayed and tried to sleep.

When he finally jerked the door open and saw Jude standing in the failing light, he was both surprised and relieved, in spite of it all. "She's not here," Max said around his cigarette.

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Jude looked over Max, and glance inside the hut almost as though he thought that he was protecting her from him. "Good." He stood in the doorway, his head leaning down, but his eyes watching Max, and his hands hooked onto his pants awkwardly.

"Can I come in?"

[so_heavy]

That hadn't been the answer Max had expected, but he was a little selfishly pleased that Jude was apparently there just to see him. He pulled the cigarette from his lips, stepped back and motioned Jude inside.

Part of him wanted to apologize for the rapidly-purpling bruise he'd created on Jude's face, but even if his methods had been dubious, fundamentally he felt he was in the right and so he held his tongue.

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As Jude walked past Max into the hut, a small smile came across his face. Max was letting him in without question, which meant that there was still... well, something, something in Max that was willing to give Jude some sort of another chance. Or at least, maybe he would listen to him.

He wanted to start explaining himself, to give him the previously rehearsed speech, but he couldn't get the words out before he remarked, "Weird day, yeah?" It was a stupid thing to say so he added, "Fucking terrible."

[so_heavy]

That was the understatement of the fucking year, and Max snorted a laugh in spite of it all. "The way I see it," he began, slumped in a casual lean against the closed door, "You should be thanking me. Misery loves company and all that shit."

His gaze flicked briefly to the mark he'd left on Jude's face. "It hurt much?"

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Jude ran his hand over his bruise, as if he were checking if it still hurt when he touched it. He bit down on his lip and nodded solemnly, "Yeah, man. You've got a strong punch."

"But uh..." He paused, hesitating to show what he felt, but what was one more fucking confession? "Losing you hurt worse."

[so_heavy]

Focused so intently upon himself, as was his habit, Max hadn't considered what Jude might be feeling in all of this, aside from like an ass. He'd walked away, but not made any definitive choice -- Escaping that burden had been a large part of why he'd stolen the morphine in the first place. It hadn't occurred to him that Jude might think he was ending their friendship for good.

For a long moment, Max just stared back at Jude from behind the curling smoke of his cigarette, the air between them seeming to grown heavy from things unsaid.

"You haven't lost me, man," he finally replied, and dropped his gaze. "I'm not that easy to get rid of."

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Jude gave a weak smile and a soft laugh, trying to let himself forget. He folded his arms awkwardly and gazed at Max, "I wasn't thinking, Max. I don't have any other excuse... I..." he paused to swallow back whatever was coming up this throat, throw up or tears or uninhibited words, "I deserved to be hit."

[so_heavy]

"I'm not going to deny that," Max answered, because his opinion on that wasn't likely to change. He took a slow drag from his cigarette and then extended it to Jude. "That doesn't mean I should've done it, though." Seeing his best friend bleeding and humiliated had been one of the most heart-wrenching things Max had ever witnessed, and he'd seen a lot of painful shit.

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Jude remembered the moment distinctly, even when he hit his head hard against the wall. He remembered the look in Max's eye and and to close his own in the moment, trying to shake the image form his mind.

"I've never seen you that angry," Jude remarked. He remembered seeing blind fury he had never even felt before, he could see what he thought was hatred behind the angry eyes.

[so_heavy]

"It's not often something I care about that much is on the line." It was a paradox of sorts, that Max could be so angry at Jude, could want to hurt Jude, when Jude was what he was so afraid of losing.

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Jude didn't know whether Max was referring to Lucy, him, the lost relationship or what, so he had to ask, "Which was that?"

[so_heavy]

That Jude even needed to ask surprised Max a little. Answering it made him uncomfortable, as it simply wasn't something they ever talked about. Not before today, anyway.

"You, you idiot," Max finally replied, tacking on that last bit in an effort to downplay the importance of the situation.

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There were sometimes when Jude wanted a joke, and other times when he wanted straight answers. There had been very few times where the latter looked like a better option, and he was almost surprised in himself when he got slightly upset with Max's answer. This had always been the way they worked, when something bad or weird happened, they would cover it up, comfort each other. They'd never been in anything where they needed comforting from what the other had done.

Jude took the cigarette from Max's hand and brought the relief to his shaky mouth. He feared saying anything else to upset Max, so instead he smoked, looking off into the distance like he was pondering some greater thing, although he didn't have anything to think about the shit he had done.

"What can I do? How can I make it better?"

[so_heavy]

It was on the tip of Max's tongue to toss out a flippant remark. Maybe something about holding hands and singing Kumbaya. But there was the distinct understanding that to be so dismissive to this would be insulting to the friendship, and to Jude's efforts at atonement.

"Jude, man," he began, and sighed as he pushed his fingers through his hair. "It's fine. I don't hate you or anything. I don't think I would even know how to do that."

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"But I fucked up, man," he noted, a hint of anger at himself and the situation in his voice. It didn't crack, Jude was done crying and he was done being upset, he had moved on to anger as he could feel it al catching in his throat.

He started to bit anxiously on his fingernails, which recently had been bitten down so low that one had actually started bleeding. He didn't know what else he could do.