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He swallows, nods. It's not like he could lie about it even if he wanted to, which he doesn't. "I killed some guards after they took you down. And then another one in the lines. They took it out on me in Realignment. I was...so glad you weren't there. That they put you somewhere else."

Somewhere he wasn't being hurt.

"I'm sorry." He knows what it's for now. "If I hadn't broken out of jail before, they wouldn't have known to use the sticks on me right away. I could have helped more."

He would have been there with Jesus, but he would have been there.

"I'm sorry."

There were things done in that room he is very glad K wasn't there to see happen. But more than that he's glad none of them happened to K.

"You broke out to try to help V." He shouldn't be sorry for that. "And I'd never want you to be hurt even if it was next to me. Please don't be sorry."

"And I would never want you to be alone with them."

He knows, technically, that Jesus wasn't; he knows there were three groups, that no one was really alone, and yet.

"Vrenille was with me. We were paired up."

Vrenille was with him. He sighs softly in relief and nods; good. "I'm glad. If you had to be there, if he had to be there, I'm glad it was together. I hope it made it easier."

He hesitates. "Not everyone made it back. My friend, John, he's...he's gone."

"It did. It was -" He swallows. "It did."

A lot happened in a short amount of time, and K isn't in any rush to tear it apart until the two of them find something closer to stable ground. For exactly this reason: he shakes his head.

"You're sure?" It's not a question of doubt - it's an offer to help look, if Jesus has been limited by healing.

"Yeah." He's positive. John is not the first person he's lost, not even the first he's lost here, and K didn't know him. No one really seemed to; maybe that's why he said it.

"Come on. Let's get moving," he murmurs, and sets them off. "I'm going to miss quota this month. I need to heal and I don't want to use magic to speed it up."

It's a response that leaves K uncertain again - press for more? Offer condolences? Jesus doesn't seem to want either of those. K isn't sure what he wants, and anyway he's facing away now, he's walking away now.

"Jesus -" K catches up with him, takes a half stride ahead of him like he might try to cut him off, but he doesn't. Just turns more towards him.

"Can I touch you? I'll be careful."

Things between them have been tense and when Jesus looks up at K it's with such startled hope.

"Yeah," he says, and then, a little helplessly, "Please."

There, finally, something K can be certain of.

He brushes his fingers lightly back over Jesus's hair, confident that there are no wounds there at least that he can see, on the way to sliding an arm around him to pull him in closer.

He lets Jesus do most of the fitting them together, but in the next moment he'll loop his arm loosely into place willingly.

K smells like tobacco smoke and lack of sleep, sweat and stress. Jesus buries his face against K's neck anyway, unable to help holding onto him tight the moment he feels K's arm go around him.

"I've got stitches on my back," upper and lower. There's no safe way to hold onto him, is what he means, but he presses closer to K to try to get him to try anyway.

"I've missed you so much."

I've got stitches on my back, Jesus tells him and it stops K from trying to hold onto him the way he was going to, but it doesn't make him let go. Jesus is hanging onto him like maybe they did die, and K tucks his chin over him like he can do any damn thing about the ways he's been hurt, like he can prevent anything more from piling on.

Maybe, in this way, he can. He ends up settling one arm high across Jesus's shoulders, hand at the back of his head to hold him there; the other ends up at his hip, fisting tight into his coat more than anything, unwilling to hurt him more and unwilling to deny him what he's so clearly seeking.

"I've missed you too," he murmurs, soft, leaning his head against Jesus's.

"Do you want to stay with me tonight?" Maybe they'd both sleep, and maybe they wouldn't. But he'd rest easier with K near.

"I do," he answers immediately.

"I'd like that." He doesn't even care where. He doesn't want Jesus alone, and he doesn't want to be alone. "Would that be alright?"

He looks up at him and kisses him, a bit clumsily with how close they are, but for the first time in weeks without hesitation.

"I want that." He reluctantly pulls away. "We need to drop these supplies off at the property first."

For the first time in as long, K kisses him back without seeming like he has to feel his way around it, like that time hasn't passed at all.

He lets Jesus go though. He nods that he understands, and brushes his hand along the back of Jesus's neck as he steps back.

"This is the property you've been talking about? That your friend is buying?" He doesn't care how far it is. He's already shown that for a city boy, he'll keep up just fine.

"Yeah. She officially has it now, so we're getting it ready. It's going to take a lot of work to build it back up, but I think we could all use a good project."

He doesn't know if he's fully forgiven yet but for the first time it feels like maybe they'll get there. They have to stop at a light and he looks up at K, smiles like he's not been hurt at all.

K almost misses it - he glances down at the curb to be sure of Mango like he always does - but he looks up in time to see Jesus smiling at him, then glances back again as if he might have misunderstood.

The corner of his mouth curves, too, even though he has no idea what's happened. Not really.

"Do you... still want me to help?" Normally he'd leave it there, but they've been so careful with each other lately, so he adds: "I want to. If I can."

"Yeah. I want to show you around. You need to pick your space," a twinge as he realizes there's an empty room now, but whatever. They'll fill it up. Make Carver's room into an armory.

"And I want to show you where the garden will be. I think you'll like that part." Seeing things grow week by week. "Things taste different when you grow them yourself."

He sees that too, but there are so many landmines planted from the last few days he doesn't dare just now.

"My space?" he asks instead. And: "I've been taking care of the petunia. Something else is growing in the pot. I think it might be a second one."

"For when you're at the property." He's pretty sure if anyone has earned the right to be there in Rosita's eyes, it's Vrenille and K and Drake, who came and fought. "Even if you don't have your own room you deserve space to keep what's yours."

Just in case.

K doesn't really have anything, he doesn't bother to point out. That was already made abundantly clear when he turned up to the rendezvous with more space in his pack than was filled, and most of that was for Mango.

"Is that where you're going to stay, now?" There are rules, of course, but.

"As much as you can?"

"I'm going to try." Three days a month isn't enough. He'll find a way to bend that rule. "We need community. Rosita and I do." He looks up at K again. "And we both want you to be part of it."

"Like you have back home?" Jesus has talked about Hilltop, and K has seen it, once; in light of that he supposes it makes sense.

It's a bit harder to see himself in that, but he's willing to try.

"I watched the two of you working together. It's easy to tell you're used to it."

"Like that. Adapted for here; I can't help anyone if I'm in the Zoo every other week. But yeah. I want a place where we can be together. A place we can go if things go wrong." Something to fight for.

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