Disclaimer: Tales of the Abyss and all related characters and materials are property of Namco.

Felony
By: Nanaki BH

The cold inched closer and Dist wrapped his arms around himself. His efforts to warm himself were futile, the chilly air of the cell penetrating, intrusive. He wanted to retreat within himself and escape, to be alone just for a few moments. Peace was impossible, though. He couldn't avoid the pointed stares and comments of his fellow prisoners. And how odd that felt to admit something like that. Prisoners. His insanity, his obsession had finally caught him and thrown him kicking and screaming behind bars.

It was cold, so cold, and he just wanted them to stop looking at him. He inched farther into the corner of the cell and brought up his knees to his chest. The stone ground was hardly comforting but the bed was even less – it was insulting. It was nothing a bed should be. It wasn't warm, it wasn't comfortable, and it didn't allow him to relax so much as to allow him rest. He didn't want to even get near it. It only served to remind him of what he'd lost in pursuing Jade.

The cold of Ketterburg... and the warmth he found in Jade's arms. Ever since Jade left, he was determined to prove that he was worthy of him, that they were equal. He did everything the wrong way though and he wanted nothing more than to go back and... and fix whatever he'd done wrong. He'd ended with less than he started. Why couldn't he have just stayed put and waited for Jade to come around again? Things could've turned out the way they used to be.

He let himself cry and he didn't particularly care if anybody saw it. They'd all seen him cry dozens of times before. They never got sick of it. He did. The corners of his eyes were red and raw from wiping the past away. Yet it always returned, he could never forget, and the tears returned anew.

His breathing eventually settling into something akin to a gasp and he rolled his head against the wall. Jade's face was permanently postered to his eyelids but he doubted he would ever see him again. He was locked up indefinitely and his bespeckled crush wasn't even the one who threw him in. He memorized his features and his style of dress so he would never forget. When they were young, he spent countless hours observing Jade silently to be sure he would never lose that young, innocent face. No matter where he was, he could always see him, hear him, but never...

"Jade..."

His own voice sounded like an unfamiliar, chocked whisper. He was cold... and so hungry. Days of refusing to eat were beginning to show their effect. He was thinner than normal, he noticed. His ribs were sore. He'd already thrown up twice and never in his life had he ever felt so ugly. The few times he had seen himself in a mirror, he refused to believe he was the one looking back. That thought alone, that he wasn't beautiful anymore, was enough to bring him to tears.

Gently, he ran his fingers over his face, over the drying tears, and felt the bruises there like a map, tender to the touch. He wanted to see Jade so badly but... he didn't want Jade to see him. His fingers ran absently over his throat, down to his chest, slipping his cold palm deftly under his regulation shirt to lay flat on his stomach. It was too hard to pretend it was Jade's hand. Jade was always warm. They could be caught in a blizzard back home and Jade was still always so warm...

After a moment, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. It was difficult; he was aware of the soreness in his body and it constantly kept him awake. And if there was still light to be seen outside, the other prisoners would just keep talking. If his aches weren't what kept him awake, then they were. He couldn't just politely ask them to be quiet. He'd quickly found that any politeness would make him a victim. Any resistance to force was worse, though. If you put up a struggle against anyone else in prison, it just meant you were trying to act tough, and to those people, there was nothing more important than being the toughest.

He didn't want to even think about how many bruises he had collected, how many times he had been taken advantage of, and how many times he whispered Jade's name at night.

Dist wasn't himself anymore. He was somebody else; somebody he never thought he would be in a million years. If he had the power to reverse it himself, then he would have. No, he wasn't the one... There was only one person who could fix him now.

He didn't realize that he'd drifted off until his cell door opened, the metal grinding on the floor. The cell block was unusually quiet, he thought, until he realized that everyone had gone to sleep already.

Into the cell stepped the person he had least expected to see. A part of him resented that shadow-clad silhouette but he couldn't deny that he'd laid their differences to rest. Hands in his pockets per always, Jade stood firmly before him, entirely expressionless. That scared Dist. What was Jade there to tell him? That they'd finally put him on death row? Of course they would send Jade; send the one who could deliver the nastiest sting.

They remained there. Looking at each other. Only the air between them – so still it could suffocate. Until finally:

"Your bail has been paid."

Dist's breath caught in his throat and he almost chocked. "M-my...? But who...?"

Jade looked away and his glasses flared with the overhead light from the hall. He was avoiding the question rather obviously. Unless it was some unknown kind soul, Jade was in fact the one who had paid for his bail. Jade had saved his life and Dist couldn't come up with any sensible reason why Jade would do such a thing.

"We have all your things. You'll leave tomorrow morning."

Calm and stoic as ever. Dist wanted to yell at him for it, to shout at him and hit him until he showed some real goddamn emotion. "Jade, you bastard!" he wanted to yell. "You bastard, what in hell is wrong with you! Do you know what you've put me through?! I hate you I hate you I love you I hate you!!"

...What's wrong with me?

He broke. He snapped. He collapsed to the floor and let his tears loose; his sadness and hate spilling from his eyes and pooling on the ground beneath him.

"T-tomorrow, Jade? Really?"

"Tomorrow," he repeated.

His fists curled, dust and dirt burrowing under his nails. He tried to still his breath but it was too hard to keep the sobs from escaping. Nearly a year of facing down his own fate and now, in just one mere breath, with a simple announcement, Jade had changed everything. He'd fulfilled his wish unknowingly – to change what he could not.

But oh Jade, he thought, we aren't what's changed now.

A hand rested on Dist's shoulder, so warm and comforting that he denied that it could be real. It slid smoothly up to his neck and down his jaw until two fingers commanded his chin to rise. His eyes remained closed, though. He dared not to look at that face because beyond his eyelids, it could've been anything; malice, resentment, pity. He didn't want to know.

A gloved thumb brushed over Dist's lips and he gasped slightly. The lightest touch made him shiver and he cursed himself for enjoying it. Just moments before, he hated Jade. Now, their lips pressed together feverishly, he couldn't remember any of that – and he didn't want to either.

Dist's arms were too weak to reach out to grasp him. Jade saw the small effort to do so and wrapped his arms around his waist, holding him firmly.

"They'll take you back to Ketterburg," he whispered in his ear, voice just as steady. "They'll take you back home."

An unbelievable sort of relief swept over Dist and he whimpered, burying his face in Jade's shoulder. He breathed in his cologne and clutched at his bended knees and tried to memorize this Jade all over again. It felt unreal to have him so close.

"J-Jade," he muttered, voice quaking and frantic, "please tell me it's you, Jade. Is it really you?"

Jade gripped Dist's shoulders and raised him up. Hesitantly, with a pitiful sniff, Dist opened his eyes and wanted to cry all over again. It wouldn't matter anyway.

This Jade was different; he'd changed. He looked a little different and even felt a little different. Obviously, he wasn't a child anymore but this was the Jade he'd known from so long ago; the Jade with snow in his hair and sunlight in his eyes.

And all of a sudden, all Dist could do was laugh. And he couldn't stop. Despite the protesting in his weak limbs, he threw his arms around Jade's shoulders and laughed and laughed. His tears, for once in forever, were those of joy.

"Jade," he sighed, sitting back to wipe his cheeks. "You'd better visit me."

For a second, Jade surveyed Dist's features, and then decided to fix his hair, brushing his white locks from his eyes and smoothing it down from his hairline. Confident in his handiwork, he offered Dist a rare, sincere smile. "Oh, I assure you I will. Just promise me you'll clean up well before you leave. Heaven forbid my sister will think I did something to you."

But you did! You're the one responsible for all of this...!

But Dist let that go. He was far too grateful to get hung up on such small details any longer.

The warm hand at the base of his neck was slipped away when the colonel stood. It was tucked into the pocket opposite the other and he clicked his heels together. Without a word, he turned to leave. Even after being apart for so long, Jade was nothing short of official.

"Wait!" Jade stopped. "Uh... You know... I really am sorry. Well. Now I am, at least." It almost sounded unnatural.

Dist could just barely see Jade's face, hidden by shadow as he locked his cell, but he could tell that he was smiling.

Author's Notes: I could've been more specific on the torturing of Dist in this but I think it's better to let you consider whether or not he was actually abused after he got taken in. He is crazy, after all. Being unpretty would've been enough alone to send him off the deep end. XD