It was two hours later than his normal arrival time--though normal was very much up for debate, with the Runespoor case under full investigation. But Jacoba was still there, reading a book on the couch. He knew he'd talked about it with her yesterday at some length--one of the books for the classes she would have taken, had she stayed in school. They'd talked about it for a couple of hours, actually. But at the moment, he couldn't remember the title.

She put the book down, looked up.

Before any kisses, any greetings or smiles, Adon kept  the back of the couch between them and brushed briskly past, to the kitchen. The brown paper bags he'd carried were dumped heavily onto the counter without ceremony, and he began to rifle through the overhead cabinets for some glasses.  Right now, everything was louder, but less clear. He heard the clanking, and he heard his breathing. And he'd been thinking those noisy, dissonant thoughts for a few hours now, since he'd found out.  It had felt a little upside-down since then. Bottoms up.

Calling to Jacoba, he said, "I brought something for you."  Adon laid the two glasses out on the counter, began to pour.  A little splashed onto the counter, but not much. He was in a hurry, and these hadn't been his first drinks of the evening.  He took both in hand and rounded the kitchen corner to rejoin her in the front room.  He paused in his progress a moment to sip from the lager. When he spoke, his voice was a bit husky. "I hear congratulations are in order."

Handing it to her, he analyzed her composure and expression.  "Well," he stated intensely, "drink up."

Jacoba hadn't given much thought to Adon's delays.  The occasional and unplanned late return home seemed to be as common place in reality as she'd always assumed from those crime-drama tv shows.  Jesse Payne, Three Owl's keyboardist, had seen her out past Leaky and she'd made her own way home from there, stopping at a corner deli for a couple hot sandwiches. 

Transportation in and around muggle London had gotten appreciably easier in recent weeks.  On Sasha's insistence, she'd started using her mother's old car in exchange for helping Sasha get around the city when Wilhelm was available and public transit was too slow.  She'd been reluctant at first- she wasn't exactly eager to be in possession of any of her parents' old things.  But, Sasha had insisted it would help him until he was old enough for his license in the coming spring.

And, her mother's car was, admittedly, a bloody blast to drive. 

"Hopefully, it was something exciting that they-" Jacoba's casual greeting hung in the air over the couch as her gaze followed Adon's path behind the couch.  She recognized the simmering mood immediately and her lips thinned as she watched him move behind counter.  Jacoba set the most recent edition of the Dachauer Hefte carefully on her knee.  Adon busied himself with something and Jacoba continued to watch in silence from the couch, half-tempted to just return to her reading.

But, at this point, she would have never been able to focus.  Not with the rampaging white elephant pouring beer in the kitchen.  She tried to read him for context clues - something that would give her some indication of what would have brought on the current events.  Until she had a good sense, it was impossible to gauge what approach to take in response.  She certainly wasn't going to offer some vague apology without knowing what she was apologizing for.  That was what her brother did - not her.  So, she remained quiet and where she was on the couch - which required a full, deep breath when he called at her from the kitchen.  She didn't know exactly what was going on but she was fairly certain now wasn't the time to offer a sarcastic Aren't I lucky? in response. 

Congratulations?  Adon's tone matched his words about as well as bright pink lawn flamigo matched the decor of an igloo.  Aside from the eyebrows that had hitched their way up to her hairline, Jacoba's expression was almost completely blank as she reached out for the offered glass of beer.  "Aye aye, captain," she offered flatly, hoisting the glass to her lips and downing the contents in one go. 

"Are we through with the sarcasm, yet?"  Jacoba asked as she held the glass back out to him like it was a completed bit of homework.  "Or, have you arranged a full celebratory party to pantomime through, first?" 

"Are we through with the sarcasm, yet?"  Jacoba asked as she held the glass back out to him like it was a completed bit of homework.  "Or, have you arranged a full celebratory party to pantomime through, first?"
 
"Come now," Adon responded drily. "I only got one sentence in."  Jacoba's response only fed whatever irritation was brewing inside, and he sipped his drink with a curled lip before taking the glass from her, setting it down on the coffee table humorlessly.
 
She could get more, if she wanted it. He watched her, jaw taught as he began recataloguing the thoughts that were drifting through his head, floating in the liquor, and seemed to shift every time he began to speak again.

"I ought to have been more specific. Maybe you take on so many death-wishing promotions that this has ceased to be significant. I hear you were promoted to Manager of Reducto today." There was a long silence in which he looked down at his hand, wrapped around his glass. In a quieter, whisper-like voice, he ventured, "And you accepted it?"

Adon didn't look up. Because he didn't want to look at Jacoba right now. She'd looked pleased with herself-- with her boldness, or hurt, or uncertain. And Adon didn't really want to deal with any of those expressions.

"Verdammt," Jacoba muttered under her breath.  So, Adon had heard.  She'd been wondering how to bring the topic up - to present the slight turn of events on her own terms.  Of course, in hindsight, it wasn't surprising that someone had managed to speed the gossip through the Ministry.  She could think of a few individuals who probably enjoyed passing on that bit of information. 

Which, of course, did beg the question of how quickly the news would spread through the rest of Diagon Alley.  "You heard."  There was no point in even pretending it was a question that needed answering. 

Reflexively, she wanted to insist that it wasn't a big deal and people were liable to make a bigger fuss out of the whole thing than necessary.  But, even she couldn't help but see through the fallacy.  And, in fact, she wanted it to be a big deal!  It should be a big deal!  For the first time in her life, someone had offered her a promotion.  It should have been a cause for celebration - and a real one.  Instead ...

"Yes," Jacoba said simply, giving the empty glass on the coffee table a furtive glance.  "I accepted it.  And, I figured you wouldn't be happy."  She placed her book on the coffee table and picked up the glass and got to her feet.  Adding more alcohol to the equation probably wasn't the best move but it was preferable to sitting there while Adon hovered, quite obviously avoiding looking at her.  "I actually have a chance of supporting myself for once.  I couldn't just turn my back on that.  At some point, someone has to ask how it's any different than Tilly managing the place.  We're the same." 

Adon gave a frustrated shrug as she stated what they both already knew. He knew. Did she plan to keep it from him? Package it in a holier light? It stripped down to the same point. And it was not the point Jacoba was pointing to.

"Supporting yourself!" Adon repeated, nodding with bitter enthusiasm. "Yes. Because I am quite the landlord, choking sickle and knut out of you..." Adon hadn't charged her a thing since she'd arrived. He'd set up a bedroom for her. And recently, he'd been sharing his with her. "That's a bullshit reason, Joh," he said, once more quiet. She was walking away, going to fill up her glass.

"At some point, someone has to ask how it's any different than Tilly managing the place.  We're the same."

Any composure Adon had snapped. Straightening like a bolt, he took several steps in the opposite direction, towards the record player, just to have somewhere to go. To put distance. He turned around and doubled his course, pacing a bit. "I can ask it. I can answer it. You are different from  Tilly Quinn not because she was born into this world and you were not. You are different from Tilly Quinn because before you came, there were not threats on her life or on yours." He crossed the room, back to the kitchen where she was pouring a drink at the bar. He wanted her to see his eyes as he said this.  "You have a very convenient, a very inconsiderate way of forgetting that. No paycheck is worth that. This isn't about jobs. It isn't about the economy--so don't feed me that like I'm Roh. This is about keeping you, keeping your friends safe. And you're not doing much for that."

Adon was justified in his annoyance and Jacoba understood that.  And, while she wasn't ready to outright agree with him, she couldn't fully disagree with him, either.  It was getting progressively more difficult to accomplish but, out of respect for that understanding, Jacoba was trying very hard not to mirror his bitterness. 

"And, what happens when you leave?"  Jacoba remembered their conversation and she remembered the agreement she'd made.  As she'd understood that conversation, it wasn't if but when he moved on to whom ever or whatever would eventually take him away.  She was well aware she'd entered into the relationship knowing it was a temporary thing and she had accepted that.  Just as she hadn't in the past, she had no intentions of lording that over him now but she had to be realistic about what that meant for her own future.  "I've offered to pitch in for rent and I'm contributing with groceries and ... that's not even the point."  Jacoba shook her head and ran her hand over her mouth. 

The beer was sitting in the glass on the counter; Jacoba stood on the far side of the counter, staring at it as Adon said his piece.  A myriad of thoughts and arguments were ricocheting in her head and none of them were falling into some tangible sense of order.  Adon, she knew full well, could be stubborn.  She wasn't entirely free of that trait, either.  Knowing that, the first thoughts that managed to organize them into some explainable order probably weren't going to be the most helpful in trying to maintain (or return to) a semi-civil conversation. 

"I'm not sure about that," Jacoba quipped back, the sarcasm just dying to come to the forefront.  "From what I've gathered, the people threatening me now weren't exactly thrilled a squib was having Creevey's baby.  And, what you're saying is its alright for me to watch you head off to a dangerous job everyday but the reverse is impermissible?  If I got a job at Scotland Yard, would that be okay with you?  Let's keep this in perspective - I've spent more days by your bedside in a hospital than you have by mine.  Is a paycheck worth that?"

"No, it's not the point," Adon said, with a bitter laugh as she touched the real heart of it. "By all means, let's not compare you to Tilly. Let's compare you to me! Let's compare jobs for a minute! Let's keep this in perspective!"

He was short on breath. He looked down to the counter, where Jacoba had poured another glass. Reacing for it, he downed it in one go, and took several more seconds to breathe. That's what Jacoba had suggested to him, right? He felt the cold marble of the counter underneath his splayed fingers.  Gradually, he looked back up at her. Not angry.

He got one word in before the temper flared. "First off," he said with great emphasis, thrusting a finger upwards, "I am not in my job for the paycheck. I don't need a paycheck! I have thousands of galleons worth of ancient--of gold--in our family vault at Gringott's. I wouldn't need to work a day in my life. Not for a paycheck."  He looked away, jaw set, face twisting angrily. "I ended up in a hospital bed because I thought someone had possessed Dree. So I didn't act when I should have.  And because that person was trying to kill Jonas. So I didn't stop fighting when I should have.  I went to the hospital for the same reason I do my job: because I want to keep the people I care about safe. But I sure as hell don't risk it for a paycheck. That's the difference between a soldier and an assassin."

He turned away, disgusted. He walked past the couch, to the record player. Back to the couch. "You, on the other hand, also risk your life daily. And what for?" He swung his arms angrily in a broad, futile gesture. "To sell mages Muggle records! For, I'd like to add, as you pointed out, a paycheck."

Glancing over his shoulder at her, he grit his teeth as he regarded her. "Or are you going to change your reasoning on that, now?"

"Really?!"  Jacoba threw back.  She could feel the warmth building in her cheeks and her gaze remained averted to the glass of beer even as Adon drained the glass.  Her determination to keep her own emotions in check was fading quickly if for no other reason than to level the emotional playing field.  "You really think it's just about the paycheck?  That's trivializing it just a little, don't you think?" 

Arms folded across her chest, Jacoba looked up at Adon, her own jaw stiffening.  "Basically." Jacoba arched an eyebrow.  "You considered all the factors - the risk, the benefits, and all those personal reasons why it was important to you and came to the careful decision that your job was worth the risks.  Do you really think I've done any differently?  I didn't just take the promotion on a whim!  For no other reason than it sounded cool and I'd get paid more!  I considered the risks and so did Tilly!  You don't think she considered the ramifications before offering me the position in the first place?" 

Jacoba watched Adon, slowly shaking her head.  It was clear he'd already decided he had all the answers; had all the arguments predicted and worked out.  Was he even going to listen to her?  Was there any point in trying to continue this conversation?  He'd already decided that this whole situation was about the paycheck so, in his mind, this hadn't even been a discussion.  Adon had been 'right' before the conversation had even started. 

But, the reality was, he didn't get it.  He didn't get the whole picture and, very clearly, he wasn't in a state of mind to hear any of it.  But, for better or worse, he'd decided that now was the time to have the conversation. 

"Look." Jacoba took a deep, long breath.  "Ultimately, you're more important than this promotion so if it really bothers you that much we ... we can discuss it.  But, I'm not convinced not taking the promotion will keep me safe.  The people willing to kill me over this aren't going to be happy unless I'm out of their world completely and I -"  Jacoba shook her head.  Was that what she was really supposed to do?  Walk away from everything?  "But, I can't do that.  I can't lose my brother, again.  And, I don't want to lose you.  He's all the family I have left and if I walk away from this world, I will get left behind.  Fighting it out so I can carve out a place in his life and this world is worth the risk to me.  And, as far as I can tell, all the good walking away will do me is it'll make it easier for the Ministry to not care what happens to me."

"Really?!"  Jacoba threw back.  She could feel the warmth building in her cheeks and her gaze remained averted to the glass of beer even as Adon drained the glass.  Her determination to keep her own emotions in check was fading quickly if for no other reason than to level the emotional playing field.  "You really think it's just about the paycheck?  That's trivializing it just a little, don't you think?" 

“I’m only going off what you gave me as your reasons, Joh,” Adon inserted testily.

"Basically." Jacoba arched an eyebrow.  "You considered all the factors - the risk, the benefits, and all those personal reasons why it was important to you and came to the careful decision that your job was worth the risks.  Do you really think I've done any differently?  I didn't just take the promotion on a whim!  For no other reason than it sounded cool and I'd get paid more!  I considered the risks and so did Tilly!  You don't think she considered the ramifications before offering me the position in the first place?" 

“I don’t know what Tilly was thinking; I’m not a legilimens. But do I think you thought things through all the way? Probably not,” he stated. “Going off what you’ve told me, your answers don’t make a whole lot of sense when you carry through a line of reasoning all the way. Clearly the paycheck isn’t a sufficient reason. Let’s move to your brother, then. How, specifically, does Reducto Records feature into his life? How does working at Diagon bring you any nearer to him?

“Think of the handful of Muggle people you know that cross lives, Joh. The Trevelyans, for instance. Anna. Let’s look at Anna for a minute. She’s a part of Jonas’ life. They live together. That’s fine; no one’s against them for that. She’s seen Diagon. That’s fine and permissible, too. She knows about Hogwarts. She can correspond with Jonas. Talk to him. Jonas comes home every day after work and they spend time together. They eat together. Live together. And, somehow, she accomplishes all this without working at Reducto Records. Or Diagon. Or even in the wizarding community. She’s got friends in the wizarding community, and family, too. She’s locked in.”

“So don’t act like this is about your brother. And don’t act like it’s about me. Because this isn’t a choice between Reducto or me. This is a choice between Reducto or you. Because the view from over here is that you don’t respect your own safety enough to safeguard yourself against, as you acknowledge, people trying to kill you. The first step you could take—the most immediate risk—would be leaving Reducto. Level Two’s made it very clear what they feel prudent action would be. You’ve considered it bullying—and while I admit Roh should not have said the things she said in the way she said it or—” he took a deep breath, “or done the things she’s done, she was not entirely off the mark in terms of risk assessment and reduction. Level Two is not going to continually help people who refuse to help themselves.”

He ran a hand over his face. He was tired. And worried. That Jacoba, for all her ideological principles, had utterly lost sight of practicality. He’d seen it before—and the resentment was easily transferred. Yes, he appreciated his father for his ideals on nation-building and Muggle awareness and tolerance. Yes, his father had been the sole beacon of unadulterated, progressive principle. He’d never wavered, even when it cost his life.  But Adon wouldn’t have minded his father wavering, just a little. He would have liked to have grown up with his father around.

But his father refused warnings. He didn’t listen to Aurors when the threats started coming in. And so, when finally he was taken, Level Two could only do so much; because his father’d done nothing. And Level Two doesn’t help people who refuse to help themselves.

“…Harah…” Adon whispered into his hand as he once more rubbed his face. So that was how it happened. And that was how this would happen. . .

“Joh,” Adon’s voice was dazed and distant. “We can’t discuss—so long as you want to keep this job. I can’t stand to see someone jeopardizing themselves for Causes when there are other ways.  I’m tired of martyrs. I’m done with martyrs. There are other things you can do to be involved. There are other ways, with less of a risk. Hundreds have done it before you. It’s not exactly Herculean.”

“I’m only going off what you gave me as your reasons, Joh."

"I know," she admitted quietly. 

“Going off what you’ve told me, your answers don’t make a whole lot of sense when you carry through a line of reasoning all the way. Clearly the paycheck isn’t a sufficient reason. Let’s move to your brother, then. How, specifically, does Reducto Records feature into his life? How does working at Diagon bring you any nearer to him?"

"Because it gives me the illusion everything's right - and I actually know what I'm doing-"     

Jacoba opened her mouth as if to say something else but closed it before the words materialized, color flushing her cheeks.   There was truth to that jumble of disconnected reasons she'd given.  They had been honest concerns - even if they hadn't been complete.  She was pretty aware she wasn't exactly highly employable so it was no small thing to leave reliable and consistent job.  Especially one which had just offered her ... her a promotion.  There was an undeniable sense of security in that. 

Would it be easier for the ministry to oust her if she were not actively forcing herself upon them?  To be honest, she didn't know.  But, it made sense to her.  The more things she clung to, the harder she would be to dislodge.  Working at Reducto gave her a sense of security in that aspect. 

And, in some ways she'd felt a sense of security in knowing that she was forcing the ministry to keep an eye on her.  Yes - she was well aware there were those in Diagon who were willing and quite capable of killing her.  But, did they really know they were the only ones?  Who wasn't to say the people or person who'd killed her sister and parents weren't just waiting for the ministry to turn their backs long enough for them to finish the job?  She knew being in Diagon had had nothing to do with their deaths so leaving Diagon wasn't going to make them leave her alone. 

But, all of these were logic based arguments to back up the underlying resistance to the change.  They were part of the reason - and in some way a distraction from the less tangible and more vulnerable reasons. 

Fear, uncertainty and insecurity were the common denominators amongst all of them.  And, if she were being completely honest, the location of her job had nothing to do with any of them.  She could substitute the Starbucks down the street and she'd be having the same hesitations.  It was the underlying fact that she had a job. 

Except, no one would be trying to kill her at Starbucks.

Which, was Adon's point. 

Jacoba sighed and took the empty glass and refilled it.  "I don't know."  She braced her hands against the counter behind her and pushed herself up to sit on it.  "They all seemed like more valid and less ... weak than admitting I'm scared.  I know it seems so straightforward and simple to you and - and you're probably right ... No, you are right - I just ..."

"What if I leave Reducto and can't find anything else?  What if I leave that job and, two weeks later, whoever or whatever's out there that's going to pull you away does so?  What's going to happen to me?  This morning, it was all working - I had my family again.  I had a job that ... they actually wanted to promote me.  I had ... damn it!  I feel like I have a home ... I feel like I belong somewhere.  And, I know you're going to leave at some point and I understand and I accept that.  And, I know it's stupid.  And, I know you're right.  But, the thought of you leaving and me not having anything to fall back on terrifies me.  And, I know it's stupid but, it is more tangible to me than what ever or whoever's in that alley."

Jacoba heard the ultimatum nestled in Adon's words and she froze, watching him closely.  Slowly, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, nodding her head slowly.  Her chest clenched painfully and she looked down at the counter between them.

"I see," she said, taking a sip of the beer and brushing her face on the back of her hand as she did so.  She took another long sip before setting it down on the counter next to her and turning back towards Adon.  "I - what am I to you?" she asked.  She took a deep breath and let it out, quickly, trying to ignore the wavering in her voice.  "I love you and I'd ... having a home - for however long I can - is more important than that job.  And, I - ultimately, if my working there makes you this uncomfortable, it won't work.  I know this isn't permanent and I know it'll happen some day.  But, if I leave Reducto tomorrow, what are the chances I'll be jobless and homeless in a month?  Or three?"

"Because it gives me the illusion everything's right - and I actually know what I'm doing-"

Adon opened his mouth to speak, sighed. Took another breath, let out a growl as he shook his head, turning away. "The illusion's the problem, Joh. Wanting that illusion. You want to feel like everything's under control, but it turns into just plain bullishness when it's not under control." He pressed his lips together. SHe was trying to work with him on this. No need to be angry. He breathed through his nose. "It's like taking pain killers so you can't feel the pain coming from your hand, resting on a burning stove!"

He ran a hand over his face, heaving another sigh. No need to be angry.

But he still felt it.

That changed very quickly to a deep, gnawing sort of sadness.

"What if I leave Reducto and can't find anything else?  What if I leave that job and, two weeks later, whoever or whatever's out there that's going to pull you away does so?  What's going to happen to me?  This morning, it was all working - I had my family again.  I had a job that ... they actually wanted to promote me.  I had ... damn it!  I feel like I have a home ... I feel like I belong somewhere.  And, I know you're going to leave at some point and I understand and I accept that.  And, I know it's stupid.  And, I know you're right.  But, the thought of you leaving and me not having anything to fall back on terrifies me.  And, I know it's stupid but, it is more tangible to me than what ever or whoever's in that alley."


Adon glanced across the kitchen to her, breathed slowly through his nose, and closed his eyes. "Joh," he began slowly, because he didn't know what he was going to say, "This is hard. And I'm sorry that it is. None of this is straightforward and simple. But it's still stuff you've got to do. My mum had to leave Israel, when my dad was killed, to come live with her family in London, who hated her.  My brother had to leave the area, too. They knew he was at school, and he got some threats there..." He shrugged. "That wasn't easy. And it wasn't easy for me to lose them like that. But they had to do it to keep themselves safe. And I appreciate that, now. I didn't at the time, because it felt like it was tearing our family apart, but we might not all be here to be a family, if they'd stuck around."

That was how it went. Security meant giving up some freedoms. Security could feel repressive. Avoiding threats could feel very much like hiding, but you sucked up your pride and dealt with it.  But that wasn't Joh's situation--not entirely. She was scared, and clinging onto the only things she knew to cling to: Reducto Records. . . and him.

There was a weight and responsibility, no obligation in this he did not feel ready for. "Joh--just, just think about this for a second... " He once more dragged his hand across his haggard face.  "We--I mean, it's not. . ." He sighed.

"I don't want this to be about me. I want you to realize, for yourself--and not because I'm threatening to break up with you, and you're scared--that you need to take care of yourself."  She was, financially, trying to do that, he supposed. But money--that was not what he was concerned about.  "Do I love you? Sure," he said, shaking his head, "but you're right. That can't be the basis of how you're going to live your life--and take care of yourself. It's--you've pointed out that in the long run, well," he gave a dark, impotent laugh, "I have no long run. . . "

This all felt very overwhelming. Usually, when the anger subsided, and the shouting had cleared the air, he could see through the debris very clearly.  But right now, there were only more questions, and circular lines of thought. He leaned heavily against the counter, body slouching with exhaustion.

"Joh, I don't know. I don't know. I want your working there to matter because it makes you uncomfortable. I want you to. . . I'm tired of . . . I don't want to be the one threatening sense into you. It's not right, and I don't want to be that. I don't like that. I'd hate myself if that's what I was for you."

He sighed and turned away. "Maybe you should take some time to figure this out--without me around."

"Illusions are all I've ever had," she said, quietly, dropping her gaze to her glass, both frustrated and a little embarrassed.  "I just wanted - it felt like, for once, I had real ownership in where I was.  Like, a real claim to ... in my ... I don't know.  I don't know what it is."  Every word that came to mind to seemed either too trite or too overly dramatic. 

How many times had she been here before?  At that point where that illusion of having any sort of control over her world, or even any real ownership of her place in the world was starting to erode?  And, from past experience, it rarely eroded slowly and gracefully like a pebble in a stream.  It was usually more like a crack eroding in the side of a dam.  There was no telling how long it would get chipped away at before the whole thing gave way.

And, yes, perhaps she had built up some pretty strong, convincing illusions this time - convincing enough that she'd readily accepted them as reality. 

Jacoba shook her head.  "I never eluded myself into thinking any of this is easy.  But - you've got to understand.  Your mother - she had support.  She had her family, even if they hated her.  She had something - your brother still had something.  And, your family is incredible - I'd ... give anything for a fraction of a family like that."  And, in some way, being a part of Adon and Dreogan's life - living with Hestia - had given her yet another layer to the illusion.  "There was a chance that, after you got through it, you'd all still be together.  I know that when whoever or whatever it is takes you away, I'm not enough for you to come back to.  No matter how much I want it, I don't have any of that.  My family's gone and I'm supposed to be the one supporting my brother, not the other way around.  If I leave Reducto and you suddenly leave next week, I'm ... I won't have a family to fall back on.  Or a home.  Or a job.  And, I can't get social benefits in the UK - I could play it safe and I'll still have nothing in the end.  Except my life.  And, I get that it's still not worth it, but-" 

It suddenly became difficult to sit still and Jacoba pushed herself off the counter and started pacing, slowly.  "I'm not trying to say those are reasons to stay at Reducto," she quickly added.  "I'm just ... walking away from Reducto tomorrow isn't that trivial.  I am trying to take care of myself.  I know, at some point, I'm going to be on my own again and I'm alright with that - I'm also trying to stay prepared for that.  I am uncomfortable going to and from Reducto.  But, there are witches and wizards who work there that watch my back and Tilly's back.  Jesse and the other boys help me out.  I know the shops around us I can go to in an emergency.  I'm always aware of what's around me and I take precautions.  I'm not naive enough to think that makes me safe - I am uncomfortable but I'm also uncomfortable of leaving Reducto and not having anything to fall back on.  If I end up back on the street, I'm not going to be any safer than I am working at Reducto.  I won't have anyone watching my back there."

Jacoba paused and looked back towards Adon, the surprise evident in her features.  "I don't think you are," Jacoba said, slowly, shaking her head.  She didn't see this as him threatening sense into her.  "This isn't about me or you.  This is about us.  I don't see it as you threatening me, I see it as you saying the stress of me in Diagon on top of work and everything else is too much.  And, we could have this very same conversation without you-"  Threatening to leave, though, for whatever reason, she didn't want to say that.  "If the precautions I've taken aren't enough to make you comfortable with me working there then I'm more than willing to work with you to find a solution you're comfortable with.  If you didn't think you'd ask me to leave while I was between jobs, I'd leave Reducto and find something that will work better for us.  If you really still don't know when you're leaving, I'd be willing to go back to part time and look for another job as well.  If that doesn't work, then ... I don't know.  I'd need your help finding a solution that does.  But, if you come at me like I'm a complete and utter fool for thinking about taking a promotion I, of all people, earned, I am going to defend myself.  I don't-" 

"Maybe you should take some time to figure this out--without me around."

Jacoba froze and stared at Adon's back, taking slow careful breaths.  That wasn't what she wanted, certainly.  And, how that helped the situation at all, she wasn't sure.  She felt like she pretty well understood the situation and she ... did he really still think this was just hers to figure out?  If she left, as he was requesting, leaving Reducto was no longer an option.  She'd been saving quite a bit but how long would that really last her?  To her, it seemed, leaving now would be the least favorable solution, if it was a solution at all.  But, she was now back to looking at the reality behind the illusion.  Her chest clenched but she forced herself to breath, slowly.  "I don't want to leave," she said, simply.  But, she'd agreed that she'd avoid the drama whenever the time came.  And, she'd stand by that.  "But, I ... if that's what you want.  I'll get my things."  She'd hold it together.  At least, until she got out of the flat.

Adon's face became strained as he followed Jacoba's line of reasoning.  He breathed out heavily through his nose and swallowed.  Drinking had been a bad idea; he didn't follow most of what Jacoba had said.  His mother's family had disowned her--just like Jacoba. While Jacoba had a brother that still loved her. True, he had a way of being more of a victim than a stronghold--from what Adon could tell--but Sasha's presence wasn't to be taken quite so lightly.

In fact, just a couple of minutes ago, Jacoba had been clinging to him as her only family--her motivating factor for doing things... and now she was saying she had no family. It was dizzying. She was right--he didn't understand.

True to the Jacoba he loved, she spoke with candor and conviction. But in doing so, she was showing a new level of vulnerability that he had suspected for some time was there, but hadn't been put into words.  Adon took a breath, his chest feeling heavy, and shifted uncomfortably.  While he appreciated the level of trust it revealed, it put him in a bind.  To break up with her now would be a new level of douchebaggery he hadn't even considered.

He watched her mouth move slowly as she spoke.  She seemed to have plenty of words to express what she was feeling, but Adon couldn't even determine his own. Staying with her because she was too vulnerable without him--that was just it. He did not want to be, and didn't feel he ought to be, a mooring point for her.  She needed that in herself. Maybe that was too much to ask, but for him to be her security--that also was too much to ask.  Because he wouldn't be around forever, and eventually, all the weight of belonging she rested on him and on things like Reducto would leave her reeling, once they fell.

And then, Joh'd been saying phrases that had run with irritatingly perplexing vagueness all night.  I know that when whoever or whatever it is takes you away, I'm not enough for you to come back to. She'd been running with that notion for how long? For four, maybe five months?

"That," he cut in, "is not about you--and it's not about us. I'm not coming back because I'll be dead, Joh. Because Katsaros will kill me. In Israel. In the near future."  They'd talked about this--and restating the facts--the ones that both Dreogan and Jonas graciously let go understood--embittered the conversation.  Jonas and Dree'd allowed him, if only for a little while, to act like he was master of his own fate. And they hadn't held the eventuality of it as an arsenal for a verbal assault later. That she'd throw that in his face, that she'd trivialize his feelings so much... that she'd use this to think so little of herself--why had she stayed in this relationship, if that were really the case?

He looked at her, throat tightening. He reached for the bottle of lager, then grabbed a new glass from the cabinet overhead, moving to the tap.  His fingers fumbled with it as he began to pour.  Poor--poor Joh.  She was starting to talk strategy, ways they could address it--she was talking the way he'd wanted the conversation to start. But he'd been angry. And then she'd been scared. So frightened. So insecure. How could they come back from that to talk about--

Adon felt a cold rush of water over his hand and instinctively dropped the glass. It fell heavily in the sink. Water still flowing, Adon reached for it, hissing as a rough edge of glass sliced his finger. Dropping the glass again, this time a little more angrily, he disregarded the glass, now in pieces and moved his finger under the faucet.  In jerky motions, moved for a cloth to wipe it clean. 

"This really isn't about your job at Reducto anymore," Adon said, turning the flow of water off and wrapping his finger in the dishtowel.  The pain brought an edge of consciousness to it all. This was real. It was about her fear. Her insecurity.  His death. Her need for him to be there, stable, so that she could grasp something solid.  Her inability to stand independent of things like Reducto, of things like . . . him.  His needing to be there. Reducto's needing to be there.

"I don't think it can be about us. Not now. It needs to be about you. Joh. . . I tried to tell you earlier that there needed to be other things you were living for, and were building your life around than me. Because I probably won't be around--" he cut himself off. No, he needed to be glaringly clear. "It's fated that I will die. Soon. I just wanted you taken care of. And safe. But if you want to stay at Reducto--that's your call, I guess. Yeh, you've earned that promotion; you could probably even do better. But it seems to do a lot for you.  You can build your life around Reducto, if you want; but you can't build your life around me." He sighed. 

"I'm not really in a place to say this--" it all felt kind of preposterous; detached. None of this conversation made sense, and his finger was starting to throb.  "but. . . I hope you can get to a point where your biggest sense of security comes from who you are. Not your job. Not who you're dating. . . Because you're an amazing--Joh," he said, his voice a bit tight, "you're great.  And I--" there was no point in saying The Three Words again. "Joh, I care. I do. I just don't think--I can't offer you anything stable, and we both need to figure some things out."

He considered her offer. The demure complacency--polite complacency that it was delivered with.  His stomach sank. He wanted to reach out, tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. . . tell her it'd be alright but that--he didn't know if it would be. And he didn't think that'd help.

"No need to go anywhere just now," Adon insisted softly.  "I've got an early start tomorrow, anyhow--and need to talk to Jonas before then. It's probably best I just head over now."

"That, is not about you--and it's not about us. I'm not coming back because I'll be dead, Joh. Because Katsaros will kill me. In Israel. In the near future." 

"That's the reason?" Jacoba froze and stared back at Adon, trying to quickly process this bit of information.  She'd known and understood that that had been a distinct possibility but she hadn't realized that was the only option.  Perhaps her mind had only allowed her the ability to think of it in theoretics.  Like his death was one of the answers listed on a multiple choice question rather than the real, flesh and blood counter part.  "And, if that didn't-"  The question stopped in her  throat and she glanced down at her feet, entirely unsure how to even broach the topic.  How did someone discuss the details of someone's possible imminent death with them?  The questions she felt comfortable posing - the ones that seemed relevant to this conversation - were all glaringly insensitive. 

Her emotional control faltered, slightly, when Adon turned his back to the cupboard and she could feel warmth flush to her cheeks and the telltale sting in her eyes.  This had never been about her job at Reducto; she'd been trying to explain that from the very beginning.  It was about the security of having something she could rely on. 

And, it was clear he didn't really get it.  Didn't understand.  "I can take care of myself," she said, bitterly, shaking her head, trying to ignore the waver in her voice.  "I've figured that out.  I've only ever had myself to rely on and for once ... for once, it isn't only me.  I'm not going it alone.  I've got a place I can call home for the first time in ... in twelve years.  And, I know it won't last forever and I know I can manage on my own.  I was honest when I agreed to that.  Nobody stays forever.  Eventually I would end up on my own, again, I know that.  But - is it really so wrong to ... to want to work to keep a home for however long I can have it?  I didn't - I had nothing when I got here and, yes, my job and ... this - you ... have been my foundation.  But, I've been building a life from there.  Not around you.  Not around work.  But, with those as my support.  Isn't ... isn't that what home's supposed to be?  It's not perfect, yet, I know, but I'm doing the best I can."  Jacoba took a deep breath and shook her head.  "And, right now - losing both ... I ... I don't know." 

"I am secure in myself. That's all I ever really had.  For once, I have more than that.  Is it really so bad to - nevermind."  It was clear she was fighting a losing battle.  He'd made up his mind and she knew him well enough to know that was it. 

"No need to go anywhere just now, I've got an early start tomorrow, anyhow--and need to talk to Jonas before then. It's probably best I just head over now."

She shook her head, her chest tightening as she crossed the room to the closet and retrieved her backpack.  Backpack in hand, she straightened back up and turned towards him, trying to force as genuine a smile on her face as possible.  "It's alright.  This - I'm used to this.  And, really, I've been happier here than you can imagine.  I don't regret anything and ... I still don't want to go.  So, putting it off will only makes it harder.  I'm really - this is what I'm good at."  And, luckily, it wouldn't take her too long to gather her things.

"And, if that didn't-"

Adon closed his eyes tightly against that mode of thinking, and gave his head a single shake.  That was why he'd said it; in January. When they were just starting dating. He'd had his reservations then, but Joh was fantastic, and he knew they'd grow closer together. She was--

She was clever; spunky; intelligent. She just wasn't right. They wanted--they were in different places, needing different things. This was what you were supposed to do when that happened, right? Adon's throat was closing in on itself, and he cleared it angrily. He'd loved making her smile. He loved helping her, comforting her. That was what he did--it was his gift with people--and it brought a certain sort of satisfaction to know that he could succeed in it when someone like Jacoba needed it so badly.  You didn't stay in relationships because you wanted to make the other person happy. Because they needed you.  You stayed in a relationship because you were progressing towards a mutual goal. Because they pushed you to be better.  But to be someone's foundation--when they were building towards. . . Adon didn't know what, but the weight of it, and the feeling that she was not in the same place, saw the world the same way--they didn't even understand each other.

But that didn't mean the words didn't hurt. His eyes--they itched and he scratched the lids hurriedly before wetting his lips.  Hearing her voice, he still wanted to--to make her smile, to help her, to comfort her. But that didn't mean this would work. "Look." He cut in. "I do not--" she was moving towards the coat closet.  Taking hasty steps in double-time, he caught up with her, closing the closet door with some force. "Stop," he said, his voice almost a growl. "I'm not throwing you out on the street. I might not be the best, but I would not do that. You can stay here until you find a suitable, permanent living situation--a week, even. No park benches. "I don't evict people from my life. Joh, we don't want the same things, need the same things, see things the same..." he inhaled sharply and exhaled, heavily. "Joh, it won't work. But that doesn't change that I care."

He took a step away from the closet, jaw set, teeth grit.  He exhaled slowly and swallowed. "You probably don't want to hear that. But I am being honest."  He paused for a minute, glancing back towards his room, where he could spy, on the unmade bed, his pajamas that he'd be packing in just a moment. "I should probably get the hell out of here--you want Tilly to come over?" She shouldn't be here alone.