Judas, being the man that he is and not one to take things without fighting, spits at him, and Lucifer backhands him hard in response, but there’s nothing I can do to protect him, tears streaming down my face. It’s my fault, I know it is, that he is being hurt—all my fault. As if to enforce these thoughts, Lucifer draws a whip out of thin air, a long cruel looking thing it is, knotted at the ends. “Watch this, Jesus, watch this.” He laughs as he begins to lay cruel strokes against my love’s skin, and I feel as if I’ll never stop screaming, never…
I feel a gentle hand upon my shoulder, pulling me from my tortured sleep. I open my eyes to discover Judas kneeling beside my cot, concern blanketing his handsome face. I’m so relieved to see him not only alive and unharmed but here and safe with me that without pausing for breath I launch myself at him, latching onto him for dear life, trembling. It doesn’t occur to me to question how he’s gotten inside this locked cell, only that he’s here. I can see the questions in his eyes, know that he’s about to ask for an explanation, but I still all words with a kiss, and we breathe together for as long as we can.
When he can finally get a breath in, he whispers the question, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing now.” I smile at him, as I manage to pull myself together, becoming more cognizant of my surroundings. “Just a bad dream.” I force myself to laugh, to allay his fears. “I’m just being silly, that’s all.” He doesn’t look quite satisfied with my response, but he isn’t probing, either, probably because we aren’t alone. Which I’m also becoming aware of. Although out of respect, they’re allowing us our privacy. I can hear their voices. Sheriff Kaplan. My mother. Mary Magdalene. And the boys. She’s brought them to see me—I’m grateful for that. Today will be my last chance.
“Yes, hail, hail, the gang’s all here,” Judas mutters, a trifle sullenly, and I cup his cheek, gaze into his beautiful blue eyes.
“Sssh, don’t be like that,” I murmur. “We’ll have time together, I promise you.” We will, no matter what I have to do to get it. I hate to see him get this way, to know they’ve been arguing. Again. And then as I really start to wake up I can’t help but stare at his forehead, and the very large bump there. It’s swollen and angry looking, and it certainly wasn’t there when I saw him last. “Jude, what happened?” He hesitates before replying, and I can just imagine the internal battle that is waging within him—he doesn’t want me to know, yet he doesn’t want to lie to me.
He doesn’t want me to worry, so he’s trying to bluff his way through it. I sigh, realizing all too well what must’ve happened, even if I don’t know exactly who or how. I wish they could just get along, but even I can see that isn’t likely to happen.
Not this time.
“It’s not so bad,” he compromises, reaching for my lips instead. “Looks worse than it feels. Brought you fresh robes.” He deftly changes the subject. So we drop it. For now. I take the clean clothes gratefully, and a few minutes spent in the jail’s single bathroom help to lift my spirits. Now I’m fit to face my loved ones again.
Poor Sheriff Kaplan. With all of them here, his poor jailhouse has become a bit crowded, but he’s taking it in stride. In fact, he’s talking with them as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. I’m glad.
My mother draws me to her, hugs me tightly, and I ache with the knowledge that she’s about to lose her son again, but there’s nothing I can do to stop that. I receive hugs from Mary M and all of the boys, too, as they crowd around me excitedly, all talking at once. I can feel Judas’ withdrawal, and it saddens me, but I don’t know what to do to make the situation any better. Not without knowing the particulars, which he isn’t giving me. I want to bring him back to my side, but perhaps that isn’t what’s best for him, maybe that’s just me being selfish simply because it’s what I wish to have happen. Not the same thing at all. I don’t want to force him to do this, or anything else.
While I’m waffling indecisively, one of the boys thrusts a flyer into my hand, and I read with pride and amazement about the concert that’s planned for this night. Mary’s done quite a lot in a short time. I’m very proud of her, even if the cause is a futile one. I can tell she’s trying desperately. She wants to cheer me up, to give me some feeling that all isn’t hopeless. I offer her a smile and a quick thumbs up. It’s not a bad idea. It’ll give them one more night together, before everything falls apart on the morrow. That isn’t a bad thing at all. But I also know that while it’s good for them, I don’t see it as being something Judas will even remotely want to do, not without me there, and certainly not after last night. So I’ll have to come up with something else for him.