If it's the Beaches

[Kieran Abernathy]

Come up with a master plan 
A homerun hit, a winning stand 
A guarantee and not a promise

When Kieran first came to the Augurey Beak Cafe, he came with Finn. He did not come out of some misplaced sense of optimism; he came to get a drink and poke fun, and to talk to Finn. He sat in the back with a whiskey and his sketchbook and no intention of coming back or saying anything. And then Jude Wright stood up.

His words had not, and still mostly didn't, inspire some sense of hope in Kieran. Instead they were captivating: pure, unfiltered optimism. Kieran poked fun. He teased. He was obnoxious. He was too captivated not to come back, and eventually love had followed, lodging itself stubbornly and secretly in his chest. Later, friendship had developed.

But that didn't mean that Kieran liked asking him for favors.

He had been nervous all night. Sitting in the back making nervous half-done sketches of their faces, unable to finish a face before he moved anxiously onto the next one. Finally the real part of their meeting had ended and they had entered the social hour, and like a Hogwarts student, Kieran slipped Jude a note.

Meet me in the back in ten.

Hoping that Jude would agree, and come join him, he slipped into the hallway leading to the bathroom a few minutes later. When Jude finally joined him, the words spilled from Kieran's mouth like a confession:

"I need a favor."

@'Jude Wright' @'Elias Grimstone'

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   Jude Wright

[Jude Wright]

Kieran was plenty of things, but subtle wasn't one.

So the note was a surprise.

Jude raised an eyebrow as he read it, curling the scrap of paper quietly into his hand and slipping it into his pocket as he pretended to still be listening to what his housemate was saying. The conversation had already lost him - and no sooner than he'd picked it up, he caught sight of Kieran getting up.

Either it was a joke, or it was serious. The former reeked of the Kieran he knew: it'd be some ridiculous prank that Jude would be a fool to fall for; he might well have plotted it with one of the others, was out there waiting to cause a hilarious scene. Because Kieran Abernathy didn't have a problem speaking up in front of all their friends with much that was on his mind... which meant if it were the latter, if this were something secret, the options were limited and probably not good.

Merlin, if Kieran knew just how good he was at making Jude worry.

Glancing at the clock, Jude pushed back his chair with a muttered excuse. There was a flutter of trepidation in his chest as he paced casually across the room, skirting around adrift chairs and stealing into the private hallway at the back. Kieran was waiting.

His mouth had just been forming the word what when the explanation came.

Jude shut his mouth abruptly. (He remembered well the last time Kieran had asked him for a favour.) Instead he voiced his immediate fear. "Is something wrong?"

  

[Kieran Abernathy]

"No," Kieran said, "Not really."

The truth was that everything was wrong. His life was spiraling out of control. Finn was mad at him, Eileen knew he was broken, he was writing letters to a girl he owed his life and he didn't know what to do. Topaz Urquart thought he liked Jude; she was right. He wanted desperately to confess but was not sure how to deal with the look on Jude's face, so instead he looked down at Jude's shoes and elaborated.

"I've been writing letters to someone," Kieran said, "She wants to know more about politics. I wanted to tell her to talk to you."

He had already told her to talk to Jude; too eager to do favors for his newfound friend. Now she was going to write and Key owed Jude, at least, a warning - even if he had promised not to explain everything.

This was a mess.

  

[Jude Wright]

Kieran's answer wasn't exactly convincing, particularly since he wouldn't even meet Jude's eyes, but at least it might not be an outright emergency. Still, Jude didn't feel any more relaxed. He didn't know where this conversation was going, but he resisted the urge to fold his arms in front of him, not wanting to look... suspicious, or dubious, or reluctant. He was a little dubious already - confounded, actually - but he was also committed to helping, if he somehow could.

And then Kieran began to explain, mostly to the floor.

Jude digested this. On a simple level, it didn't sound like too much trouble at all - talk to someone about politics; it was the sort of thing he did every day. But like this? It scarcely made sense.

"You've been writing letters to someone?" Jude echoed, mild incredulousness leaking out. "About politics?" Kieran? The champion of doing nothing, because nothing would change? He didn't mean to sound dumbfounded, but it did take some digesting. But maybe the letters hadn't been about politics, he reasoned. Politics might simply be a side-effect. This someone was a she, after all - so maybe it was personal, maybe the letters were the furthest thing from politics.

Not that it should matter to him, why Kieran was writing these letters. Or to whom. Except he wanted Jude to talk to her.  

  

[Kieran Abernathy]

Kieran shook his head. "I didn't say that," he said. He kicked his foot along the floorboards and attempted to conjure an explanation. His life was, increasingly, a bundle of promises he could not keep and secrets he could not share. And almost all of them - except for the secret - traced back to that night and this girl.

The burden of his mistake was like a weight on his chest. It was only a matter of time, Kieran thought, before something snapped and it came down and collapsed his ribs - he was going to tell someone sooner or later because that was what happened to people with secrets like this. 

(He never thought things could get worse than the other secret.)

"I know how it sounds," Kieran said, because he did. It sounded like he had gotten caught taking the piss about politics and was now asking Jude to write letters to his hook-up. That was genuinely the most plausible outcome here. "But she's - she's like me. You know."

He had promised not to say say it was Topaz Urquart, but he didn't know how to hide her identity, anyways - she was notorious. The most famous of his kind.

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   Topaz Urquart

[Jude Wright]

Apparently, Kieran knew how it sounded. Which meant it wasn't like that. But the fact that that was his answer meant that the chances of Jude getting an actual explanation were dropping swiftly. By the second, probably. Well, what was new? Every conversation they seemed to have was cryptic in some way - and even if he liked to think he knew Kieran, there was always part of him that was unpredictable, entirely impossible to read - and quite honestly, Jude hated it, because he always had no end of questions.

Nevertheless, the sigh Jude expelled was more resigned than anything; he already knew he wouldn't get any answers to his questions and he also knew he'd do what he could to help anyway.

But Kieran did give him a partial explanation, which threw Jude off again at once.

She's like me. "A Hufflepuff?" He put in without thinking, instantly regretting choosing the moment to attempt a joke, of all things: or at least he would have, if it hadn't at least served to cover up his shock, and if his raised eyebrow hadn't stopped him from otherwise pulling that grave kind of pitying face, the expression that was almost ingrained instinct when thinking about Kieran's condition. In any case, he sobered within seconds, not wanting to make this more torturous than it obviously already was. "No, I - I know."

He meant a werewolf. He'd been writing to another werewolf. He hadn't said who, but Jude's mind leapt, perhaps predictably, to the only known female werewolf the wizarding world knew about. And they'd talked about her not long ago, too - could he mean her? Jude had wished that he could do something, hadn't he? And Kieran had too.

"Is she..." Jude started meaningfully, who I think she is, but another question leapt urgently to his lips before he'd fully got the first one out. "Does she know about you?"

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   Topaz Urquart

[Kieran Abernathy]

Kieran couldn't help but snort; he hadn't expected Jude to make a joke, (he never expected Jude to make jokes,) and the brief lightness startled the humor out of him. Everything was feeling like life or death, lately; covering the election, their meetings, arguing with Finn, his letters to T, talking with Jude. Ever since he pulled down that tree it had all been dire, and this was no exception.

Because he did not know what to do if Jude said no.

Truth be told he also was not sure what would happen if Jude said yes. He had not been able to visualize anything past this conversation, because he could not fathom the outcome, could not manage to come up with some scenario in which this went entirely well. He had sobered up again - in mood, not in blood alcohol content - and tapped the toe of his shoe against the floorboards.

Jude was clever, was the thing - he'd probably figure it out. Or at least he'd figure out who Topaz was, and from there - who was to say that he would not guess at Kieran's guilt?

It was too late, now; he had made a promise to her besides.

"She knows about my condition," Kieran admitted. He was no longer staring at the floor, but was sort of looking somewhere past Jude, too anxious about this to fully engage with the conversation. My condition was a phrase he did not like but there was no other phrase for it, unless he called it 'It' - and that seemed T-specific, werewolf lingo he should not let Jude in on just yet.

"She doesn't know I'm me, per se. I was writing her as - A."

  

[Jude Wright]

Jude was actually quite relieved to hear Kieran snort, for the moment it lasted. But still he seemed so tense, whether it was this he was nervous or ashamed about - about having to ask for a favour, worried about explaining the letters? - or he was merely on edge about everything. There was... well, a lot going on right now to justify that, between the elections and the fact that werewolves were the word on the tip of everyone's tongue.

And she - the werewolf he was writing to - knew he was one.  

"Ah." Jude swallowed, not reassured in the least by the addition that she didn't know his identity. It was something, he supposed, but he couldn't shake the hammering notion in his head that this was dangerous and what was Kieran getting himself into. And he knew full well how hypocritical of him it was to even be thinking this, because he had forced the truth out of Kieran when that had been the last thing Kieran had wanted, when Kieran had had no intention of telling anyone. He'd been aware of the ramifications of it getting out way back then. (So what about the consequences now? Did he care?)  

It was probably different, sharing the truth with someone like him. Safer, perhaps. Easier. It had no doubt been worse for Jude to have found out, in Kieran's eyes. Not that Jude regretted knowing the truth. But still, if he could take that day back -

All he wanted to say was be careful, but his throat was dry. Thankfully, at least, Kieran wasn't actually looking at him, his gaze either skirting around him or hovering off-focus. This gave Jude time to recover himself, to push that bone-deep remorse away for the time being and focus on now. Kieran was asking him for a favour. There was something he could do to be useful.

"Right. Okay." Jude said, more matter-of-factly, to demonstrate that he was following, as best he could. (Was she who he thought she might be? How had they even started writing? Had Kieran sparked the letters - and if so, why?) He took a deep breath, and tried for a tone and the hint of a smile that might seem mildly encouraging. "And she's interested in politics?"

  

[Kieran Abernathy]

Kieran felt as if he was under some scrutiny, and he should be. It was - a weird thing to be doing. He had several discarded and destroyed drafts of that first letter to Miss Topaz Urquart, letters where he felt too obviously guilty or too obviously shifty or just weird. But once he screwed his courage up and sent that first letter - well. He had to keep replying. He owed her something and while he could never repay the full debt and he could never tell her - he was the Monster she wrote about. And besides that, he could not tell her for the same reason as he could not tell Jude - it was a betrayal of trust and a betrayal of friendship and he did not need to make her responsible for his penance.

But without the context, this was very weird. Kieran shifted back and forth in his boots as if the slight movement would calm the anxious pounding of his chest. He was terrified of looking at Jude's face - some part of him felt as if that would make him reveal the truth - and instead he just shifted and looked somewhere underneath, at the muscles in Jude's throat. 

"She wants to talk about the werewolf issue and the half-breed ban and responsibility," Kieran said, "And the election, obviously. And I can write a great deal about the election but I thought that perhaps - she might do better with someone who hopes. I don't know."

It was a stupid idea and a stupid request and Kieran knew, suddenly, that he was digging his own grave.

  

[Jude Wright]

Kieran still wouldn't look at him. Jude wished he would. If he just glanced up properly, if he only caught his eye for a second, maybe he would realise that Jude wasn't about to - judge or interrogate or reproach him for this whole situation, that whatever he was so afraid of wasn't a problem.

Gazing squarely at Kieran nonetheless wasn't much easing his own concern, though. Jude had managed to suppress most of his primary confusion - had hoped he looked at least outwardly composed - but the lines of worry hadn't fully faded from his brow, and there was the same knotted feeling in his gut.

That feeling dissolved somewhat at Kieran's next answer, softened under the flood of surprise. She might do better with someone who hopes.

Really? Jude thought, almost dazed by it. He couldn't imagine that his perspective on werewolves was nearly as valuable as Kieran's, to her (what did he know; what could he say that would make a difference?) but he could talk, about it and the ban and the government and the elections, that was easy enough. And he could listen, and he could encourage, and even possibly convince. Maybe it was a struggle for Kieran to be admitting it, when he himself was unmoved by it all - but even if he thought the anger and the ideals and the hope were all wasted energy and wild fantasy, clearly he wouldn't begrudge the recipient of his letters a chance to consider them for herself. He'd let her believe in them if she wanted to.

Maybe he even wanted her to believe, part of him, if he had decided to go so far as to acquaint them. (I thought, he'd said; it had been his idea, not hers.) Well, whatever the reason, this had to mean Kieran thought it was worth something, having hope. And in some small way, Jude felt gratified that he was trusting him with this at all; that he believed, however faintly, that Jude might do the slightest bit of good.

Somehow that also made it a more daunting endeavour. Worried that Kieran was reconsidering the idea even as he spoke and abruptly intent on not letting that happen, Jude gave an emphatic nod at his words. "Probably," he agreed brightly, as if he could assure Kieran of the certainty that she would 'do better'. If he pretended this was just any arrangement to write letters, forge potential political connections or links to the group, then Jude would be confident about it. The request would be perfectly reasonable, if this were an ordinary occurrence, Kieran passing on people who might be like-minded, whom he thought might like to hear what Jude and his friends had to say.

But Kieran didn't usually do things like that, and never so seriously, so there was something else going on under it all and Jude didn't know what, didn't even know if he had all the pieces to put the whole picture together. The anonymous-letter-writing arrangement still probably wasn't wise, and it was undoubtedly not safe, and he should absolutely ask more questions before agreeing, he knew he should... but as soon as he studied Kieran's face again, Jude didn't have the heart.  

Whatever was going on, it was good of Kieran to do this.

"I'll do it," he said.

  

[Kieran Abernathy]

The tension unknotted from Kieran's spine and his shoulders. The anxious churning in his stomach finally calmed. For the first time in this entire conversation, he was able to meet and keep Jude's gaze. Jude's agreement felt like a lifeline, although it should not have - more than anything it was another part of Kieran's penance, a way to try and find forgiveness without confessing. He wasn't even sure what he was doing, but at least by offering Jude to T he was giving her something, someone concrete.

Maybe Jude would inspire her. Maybe he wouldn't. Either way, at least Kieran had tried.

"Thanks," Kieran said, genuine and shy and nervous. He had a sudden desire to pull Jude into a hug, but he didn't think that would be a good idea. Instead, he reached out to squeeze Jude's hand and let go just as quickly, cheeks burning. Bad impulse. Bad move.

"Really, thank you," Kieran added, trying not to look too embarrassed.

  

[Jude Wright]

Kieran's relief was potent, practically emanating through the air. As odd and as mysterious as this whole request was, it still didn't strike Jude as quite as serious as Kieran had been making out. But clearly it meant an awful lot to him. It couldn't have taken that much resolve just to ask him for the favour.

Maybe it had, judging by the bashful gratitude. Though Jude didn't get a great deal of time to judge it, since Kieran had reached for his hand and all thought froze instantaneously, both his brain and his body threatening to go into shutdown. Brief as the contact was, the feeling had coursed upwards through his bloodstream. His chest had gone tight. It - it felt sort of how he imagined a heart attack must, actually.

He assumed that probably hadn't been the intention.

He also couldn't catalogue Kieran's reddened cheeks, because he could feel the flush creeping up his neck in turn.

"Did you think I wouldn't?" Jude said in amicable reproach, surprised - and maybe a little offended - at the idea; mostly, however, he was just forcing himself to say something so that it didn't look like he was completely overcome by the hand squeeze.

Maybe it was fair, going by experience... but if assuming otherwise had been Kieran's instinct, then they were on very different pages. Not least because Jude would always agree to help his friends - but also because Kieran could have asked him for much more and he'd have been willing to try, he was certain of it. You know I'd do anything for you, he nearly wanted to say. (That was a normal impulse, wasn't it? Only - it sounded ridiculous. And almost frightening, somehow.)

"Anyway, it's nothing," he added faintly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with his hand just so that he was doing something with it that wasn't reaching for Kieran's hand back. "I'm happy to. And - I'll try my best."