A/N John in this chapter is John the Beloved not John the Baptist

Jesus sat on the rooftop of a building watching the alley below him. It was a seedy part of town. Cana, for all its wealth and beauty, was host to the same darkness as most places. Thieves, cheats, and robbers were found in the same shadowy corners as the sick, the needy, and the abused. He found it particularly egregious in Cana because it seemed so easy to resolve. There was more than enough to go around if those that had enough to spare would simply loosen their grasp on their money.

He had spent the better part of the morning watching a gambler's booth. The man running it was very good, and attracted a particular variety of clientele. The people who came to see him were not the type who lived in these slums. They disguised themselves with plainer clothing than they would wear in their usual parts of the city, but anyone with a trained eye would notice that their coarse robes were remarkably clean, and the colors were too rich to ever be afforded by someone who had no more reliable means of income. Even the best disguised ones were given away immediately by their voice, which did not even attempt to match the dialects he had noticed amongst the poor. And the man running the booth mimicked it perfectly, matching their intonations and fashion in just such a way that made them feel comfortable, but holding himself just far enough below their station that they felt sure they would win. And every single time the visitor lost.

Maybe Jesus shouldn't find amusement at the foolishness of the wealthy. That should probably be beneath someone who had come to show them a better way to live. But then again Jesus had spent plenty of time begging for alms with his mother and his siblings growing up, and he knew firsthand how they loved to either scold or ignore the poor. He was entitled to human emotions, surely it was not a sin if he kept it to himself.

Jesus reached into his pocket for the upmteenth time and fiddled with a small project he had finished in time for the trip. He was fairly certain he knew who this dealer was. He had to be a bit more certain about him before introducing himself though.

Another client approached the booth and Jesus sat forward, very interested to see what would happen. This client was different. For a start, he smelled quite strongly. Jesus could not smell him himself but he noticed the dealer had discreetly applied essential oils beneath his nostrils before the man was close enough to catch it. One of his legs seemed to be paralyzed and he hobbled with a cane.

"Quintus, friend. How have you been?" the carny asked, this time using a different voice to suit the client. Jesus strained to listen.

"Aches and pains every day, lad," Quintus replied, speaking with a thick Roman accent himself. "Serve the emperor well and he'll brush you away to the prettiest dustpan in his empire. Didn't I ever tell you how I lost this god damned leg? Me and my men were marching to a territory that wanted an uprising, we brought supplies for them too, to remind them how our job was not just to conquer but to bring the improvements of Rome to them. I gave a farmer seeds and he sliced through my knee, right here," He turned around and hiked up his trousers to show an ugly scar on the back of his bad leg. "All for our act of goodwill! And Caesar, in all his goodness, retires me here, as if I have any way to afford the rent it would take to appreciate the fine view he promised."

The man at the booth chuckled dryly. "Yes, Quintus, you tell me every time. You know, barley farmers don't often want to start growing tomatoes just because some emperor says it's better. They say the soil won't take to it."

"Damn the Emperor," Quintus spat. "Damn Rome and damn every man who serves them."

"I hear you, brother," the man agreed. "What can I do for you today?"

Quintus dropped a bag of money on the table and Jesus noticed that the man sighed slightly. "Quintus, are you sure this is what you want? That must have taken you a week to gather."

"Two weeks, actually. Someone stole what I got last week. I'm feeling lucky, and I'm betting here I can double it."

The man pinched the bridge of his nose while he thought it over. Jesus hoped he wouldn't accept the terms. If this was who he thought it was, he would expect better. So his heart sank when he heard him quietly say, "Prove you mean it, you're already in debt with me. If you win, you leave with three weeks pay. If you lose I add three weeks to what you owe."

Quintus scowled and pushed the bag into his lap. "Deal the damn cards, lad."

Jesus huffed as the man emptied the contents of his own bag of tricks onto the table and selected a new deck of playing cards. From where he was sitting it looked like the man was shuffling with a deliberate maneuver. He dealt the cards with a cool demeanor, and poor Quintus looked nervous. So Jesus was pleasantly surprised when the man lost the game twice out of the three rounds they played. Quintus left with plans to eat fine foods that night and the man straightened up his booth, smiling almost imperceptibly to himself and lighting a cigarette. That was enough to confirm what Jesus had hoped. This man was someone he wanted in his group. He was about to introduce himself when he heard two familiar voices approaching the alley.

John and Simon were supposed to be shopping for groceries and looking for a good spot for Jesus to make his first sermon of the trip. And they had been at first. They had found the perfect spot within an hour and there was still plenty of time until dinner so they had gone exploring. The two young men were left to their own devices with all of Cana to explore unattended. It didn't take them long to find the part of town that catered to young men's vices. Simon would stop to make suggestive comments to the giggling ladies batting their lashes at him, and John scolded him for "behavior unbecoming to a disciple" to use his words. Simon reminded John that he was much older than he was, insisting that John would understand when he was older. (John insisted he was plenty old enough to understand, and far more mature because he abstained.) Then Simon would scold John for drinking yet another glass of strong wine, reminding him that he wouldn't be drinking like that if his brother had accompanied them.

They did agree that it would be quite fun to try their luck at cards and dice. And when they won, their teacher might even thank them for it. So Simon asked a particularly lovely woman who had smiled sweetly and recommended a booth just on the outskirts of the slum.

"Simon, I really think that hooker lady hated you," John complained after watching Simon lose yet again. "I told you not to listen to her, she was giving you bad advice."

Simon shook his head emphatically and put more money on the table. "No, Delilah wouldn't do that."

John scowled when the dealer smirked and began shuffling again. "You know her, don't you? I'll bet you're her master or something."

The man laughed heartily at that. "Friend, if I dealt the services of whores you wouldn't find me here. You're welcome to try a different game," he offered, gesturing to his assortment of cards, dice, and other games.

"She's not a whore," Simon grumbled.

"No, she definitely is. What sort of game do you play with this?" John picked a small wooden bird up from the table.

The man snatched it back quickly and tucked it into his pocket. "A man can't decorate? Pick something else."

"John, Simon!" Jesus greeted the pair jovially. "I trust the shopping is going well?"

John and Simon flinched and turned around with a very guilty look on their faces. "Teacher!" John fumbled. "I was just trying to convince Simon that it was time to go back. We were just on our way."

Jesus stepped closer. "Mhm. Was that before or after you started drinking?" he asked pointedly. The card dealer ducked his head and tried to stifle a laugh. John looked at his feet, ashamed of himself. "Don't lie to me, you know there's no point to it. And Simon," Jesus turned on his companion. "It's only natural to be interested in the opposite sex, but I hope you haven't resorted to exploitation?"

Simon shuffled his feet and looked skyward. "We were only talking, teacher."

"Not respectfully you weren't."

"Shut up, John."

The dealer's shoulders were shaking with uncontainable mirth. Jesus turned to him and smiled softly. "I trust my students have already given you plenty of money for today?"

The dealer looked him in the eyes and Jesus's heart leapt. That was Judas for sure. "It's a good thing you found them when you did, I was almost at the bottom of their purse."

Jesus nodded. "Keep it, maybe it will teach them a lesson I haven't been able to get them to understand. I want a turn now."

Judas shrugged and gestured to his games. "Pick your poison and your terms."

Jesus pointed to a set of dice. "I'm partial to dice, myself. If I win, you'll come back with me. If I lose you can have the rest of the purse."

Judas laughed out loud, caught off guard by the man's forwardness. "I didn't take you for that kind of patron." He looked him up and down. This teacher was quite attractive, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious. Might as well, he'd earned more than enough for today. "I like it, keep the purse though. If I win we'll do it at my place." He bit his lip suggestively and laughed again as Jesus turned bright red.

"This is inappropriate," John fumed. "You have no right to speak to him like that."

"It's okay, John, I've got this." Jesus pushed Judas's dice back to him. "We'll be using my own dice." He set the dice he had made on the trip to Cana on the table. They were loaded, just like Judas had taught him years ago. It had taken a few tries to get it right, but this set was quite consistent.

John continued grumbling to Simon, whispering, "Does he even know who he's talking to?"

"Just watch," Simon urged, now grinning vindictively. "This might be your first miracle."

Judas suspected that the dice the teacher had placed on his table were loaded, and the comment about miracles confirmed it. He could tell by looking at them. This man was very intriguing, scolding his students' moral codes one minute and putting these on his table the next. Certainly he was the strangest person to walk up to his booth.

The game was fun. It was exciting to have his usual role reversed, and he put on a show of being surprised when he lost. So surprised that he insisted on multiple rematches, just to keep the thrill going. The students cheered louder every time he lost, seeming to have forgotten that no matter what happened they had still lost a considerable amount of money. After a few rounds he handed the dice back to the teacher, admitting defeat and quickly packing up his booth. John was beside himself, awestruck by the teacher's pedestrian trick.

Jesus ignored them and smiled widely at Judas. It took some time to find him, but now he was here. Now his work could really begin. He stretched out his hand behind him to lead the way and smiled a little brighter. "Walk with me."

Judas grinned mischievously and accepted the gesture. "Lead the way, teach." He playfully grabbed the teacher's ass with his other hand and laughed when he yelped and jumped in surprise. John again tried to intercede on Jesus's behalf, and Jesus assured him again that he was fine and would meet him back at the camp.

"So tell me teacher, do you always pick up strangers with loaded dice?" Judas asked slyly when they were out of earshot.

"No!" Jesus exclaimed. "No, I made those dice for you."

"Aww, you shouldn't have." Judas wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him closer to walk hip to hip. "I was going to throw the game anyway, you're the hottest stranger that's come by in a while."

The teacher laughed. "You don't have to pretend you don't know me anymore, Judas, it's me."

Judas dropped his arm and jerked his hand away abruptly. "I never told you my name."

Jesus frowned. "Judas, it's me." Had Judas forgotten him? It would be very embarrassing if he had presumed incorrectly.

Judas shook his head. "I don't know who you are but you need to get the hell away from me."

Jesus grabbed his hand again before he could escape. "No wait." He fumbled in his pocket until he found what he was after. He pulled out a small wooden sparrow and held it out.

Judas's eyes widened as he began to put the pieces together. He pointed at Jesus a bit stupidly. "You're the snake kid," he said bluntly. "Jesus?"

Jesus laughed. "You know most people from that party remember me as the child who turned water into wine."

Judas laughed back and shook his head. "No, anybody our age remembers you were the one waving a viper in their face. What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to ask you the same thing."

It had been years since they had seen each other, but the pair quickly began talking like old friends. Apparently Judas had been quite busy. His father had passed away when he was a young man, so he had stepped up to take his job, as he had already been educated to do so. Judas hated being a tax collector. It had been bad enough dealing with the endless line of female suitors before. Now that he was an adult he got the full effect of the attention that came from his position. That is to say, everybody in Kerioth wanted him to like them, but he himself was quite universally despised. He couldn't blame them either. He was following orders, but his orders were to take money from people who could barely feed themselves. He felt filthy by the end of the day. He hated himself just as much as they did, perhaps more. He had tried to make the most of it, a few men had even courted him but they had each sought out women behind his back and spread lies about him. Each courtship only made his situation worse and after a particularly nasty breakup he had left Kerioth altogether. He had traveled to several cities and tried to find other ways to earn a living. Unfortunately he was not good enough at any trade to make his general snarky attitude tolerable. He could either steal and starve or he could go back to his teenage roots and make a dishonest but decent living. It wasn't great money and it didn't earn him any friends, but he had an apartment now and he could visit his mother from time to time.

"I'm sorry," Jesus said when Judas finished. "It sounds like it's been pretty lonely for you."

Judas shrugged. "I can live with it." It was pretty rare that he actually got sympathy for his story. Nobody really felt bad for a tax collector's son, let alone one they considered grossly perverted. Judas knew that his own sour temperament was also a large factor in his reputation. He was fairly certain he was several bad choices past fixing that aspect of himself. Being treated with genuine understanding made him a little uncomfortable. But then again, he remembered that Jesus was like him in one of those ways. "What about you?" he asked, slightly hoping to hear whether Jesus still shared his interests.

If Jesus had been seeing anybody, he did not mention it. He had been studying and working as a carpenter in Nazareth. His life was fairly quiet until the past few months, and his family had kept a low profile despite his miracle at Cana. Jesus had begun preaching fairly recently with his cousin John, who he clarified was not the John whom Judas had met earlier. (Judas had assumed this was the case. John couldn't have been older than seventeen.) Jesus still seemed certain he had really changed water into wine, and he wanted Judas to join his band because he had been a witness to the event. This troubled Judas a bit, but he found himself overlooking it as Jesus continued his pitch. At first Judas was skeptical, but as Jesus spoke about his work Judas had to admit that his passion was moving. Jesus really believed that the world could be better, and his ideals were ones that Judas supported for the most part. He found himself genuinely excited to see him try to change the hearts of Cana's wealthiest members. He also realized that Jesus had not been inviting him to hook up, and almost certainly had not meant to imply that. What he had offered was an invitation to join his group as a disciple. He desperately hoped that Jesus would not bring that up again, he couldn't handle that level of embarrassment.

And Judas found himself wanting to believe in Jesus. Despite his cynical nature, he wanted to drop everything to join him. It wasn't like he had anything to lose. He had no good reputation, he had spent most of his adult life seeing people sigh and reach for their purse when they saw him. He lived alone, he had no friends to speak of. Every day just lead to another day with no greater goal than to get to the next. Jesus spoke with fire and passion. His band sounded exciting and his mission sounded undeniably good. It gave Judas hope. That surprised him. So when Jesus held his hand out again and asked him to walk with him he found himself taking his hand and following after him, pushing his misgivings away. They seemed insignificant in the face of what Jesus promised.

Judas's hope of a fresh start faded considerably when he followed Jesus into his camp and saw John and Simon talking to a third man about the "latest rescue" Jesus had picked up. Judas thought he might recognize the man they were talking to. A fourth man was tending the fire, and they recognized each other immediately. Judas had collected taxes from him and his ailing grandmother back in Kerioth shortly before he left. He held Jesus's hand a little tighter and gave a shaky smile as anxiety set it. "Hi, Andrew. How is your grandmother doing?"

"Dead now, thanks to you," Andrew looked as though he would very much like to toss a hot coal in his direction.

Judas bit down on the inside of his cheek. Andrew had mentioned that they needed the money for a doctor. There wasn't anything he could say to undo that. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Jesus gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I see some of us have already met. James, this is my friend Judas."

James scowled at Judas. "I've seen you before. You stole fish from my boat."

Judas paled. He remembered James now. He had lived in Galilee for a time trying to learn to be a fisherman. He wasn't much good at fishing, but it took time to earn enough money to move elsewhere. He had saved that money by stealing fish instead of buying food. That had been years ago, but clearly James had not forgotten. Which meant that John must have been the small child who had ratted him out.

Jesus seemed entirely unbothered by the tension. "You certainly have traveled a lot. I take it you are good with maps then?" Judas nodded mutely, not wanting to say anything that would get him in further trouble with the other disciples. "That's good!" Jesus clapped him on the back. "I am afraid none of us have that skill, travel has been quite inefficient."

"We could learn," John said darkly, glaring at Judas's purse which had been jingling with the money he had lost.

"Jesus, I don't think this is a good idea." Simon crossed his arms across his chest. Judas sighed through his nose and started to turn away. He should have known what Jesus promised was too good to be true.

Jesus took Judas's hand again, partially because he suspected that Judas would walk away if he let go. "And what exactly is your complaint, Simon? Let's have it out in the open."

"He's a cheat and he took nearly all of our money this morning. But you already knew that."

Jesus nodded thoughtfully. "Tell me, Simon. When I was speaking about being responsible with the resources God has blessed us with, did you take that to mean you should take it to a gambling booth?"

Simon looked away, looking guilty, but kept his arms crossed to emphasize his displeasure.

Jesus turned to John, who had crossed his arms to mirror Simon. "John, what is your complaint?"

John huffed indignantly. "I don't like the way he was talking to you. He was inappropriate and I don't think that behavior has any place in our camp."

Jesus nodded again. "Self righteousness has no place either, but you are still here and I forgive you for it. Judas did not even sin against you, it was me he was addressing. We have spoken since then and I am not offended. So why does it upset you so personally?"

John did not have an answer. Jesus turned to the next person. "Andrew. Did Judas personally cause your grandmother to fall ill?"

Andrew scowled. "No, he kept us from getting her a doctor. Wouldn't you have refused our money?"

Jesus shook his head. "You forget I was never a tax collector. Did I not just preach that we should render to Caesar what is his? Judas did not act on his own accord, he acted on behalf of Caesar." He turned to Judas for confirmation and was satisfied when Judas nodded quietly.

"And what about my fish?" James blustered. "He stole from my boat, I saw him do it."

"But was he the one who was sinning?" Jesus countered. "Or was it you? I know you were quite a successful fisherman. Surely you saw that he must have been in need. Did you offer him anything to satisfy his hunger or did you keep your excess to yourself?"

Judas was surprised when John sighed and conceded. Each disciple seemed ashamed of himself now. That was very strange. Their complaints, with the exception of John's, had sounded valid to him but somehow Jesus had found a way to pardon all of them. "Judas has left his old life behind the same as all of you. Forgive him and move on. The past is the past. Now let's eat the food that Simon and John have brought us."

Jesus sat beside Judas as they broke bread together, the six of them eating over one table cloth. Judas wasn't as sure about leaving his life behind as Jesus had asserted on his behalf. He especially wasn't as sure now that his welcome had been so hostile. He would probably slip away in the morning. Jesus could talk circles around his disciples all he liked, that didn't change the fact that they clearly disliked him and he did not fit in. Still, James made a valiant attempt at politeness over dinner and the other disciples refrained from dirty looks. Maybe the others would come around.

Judas did his part with the evening chores and looked for extra to do to ingratiate himself. It quickly became apparent that Jesus's operation was a rather slapdash one. They had no tents at all, and Andrew did not have a bedroll of his own. Instead, he rolled himself up in the tablecloth they had all just been eating on. Further investigation revealed that they had no idea how much money they had, and while they knew what their next stop would be they did not know how they would get there. They wanted to rent camels, but they did not know how much that would cost. It was alarmingly pathetic. It was a miracle Jesus had managed to recruit even four people.

"You know this is a problem, right?" Judas asked Jesus as he looked for a place to lay down. "You can't just go wandering around aimlessly like this. You need to start planning."

Jesus pursed his lips and nodded, poking at his own bedroll with a stick. Still weird. Judas noted. "We're nomads," he said by way of explanation. As if nomads did not plan ahead. "I was hoping maybe you could help us out. We have an opening for a treasurer if that's something you'd be interested in."

Judas looked back at Andrew, seemingly content to be snuggled up in crumbs for the night. "You're going to need a lot more than that."

Jesus nodded. "I'm hoping to get some more people to join soon. Someone who can help run the show so I can focus more on the talking."

Judas sucked in a breath. "Look, it's been great catching up but I'm not going to sign on as your treasurer just like that."

"Oh no, of course not. But I hope you'll consider it. We're going to stay here for at least a couple weeks." Jesus gave the bedroll a firm kick before he unrolled it and began shaking it vigorously. "In case there's snakes," he explained when he noticed Judas staring.

"Since when are you afraid of snakes?" Judas asked, still trying to figure out how he was going to sleep. He had already given up on any hope they might have extra bedding. He didn't need to have worried though. Jesus offered him his cloak to sleep on for the night.

"I got bit by a viper." Jesus scratched the back of his neck, a bit embarrassed. "It was in my bedroll, it was pretty bad. My mom was pretty upset, so I try to be extra careful now."

Judas couldn't stop himself from laughing. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh. It's just a little funny, I remember you being so sure they couldn't hurt you."

Jesus shrugged. "It didn't kill me." He didn't admit how it very nearly had. His sixteenth birthday had been a very unpleasant awakening to his mortality. The viper had left a scar on his ankle, and he could still remember how its venom had burned in his veins. The doctor said it was a miracle that he had not died.

"Sorry," Judas apologized again. The last thing he wanted was to drive Jesus away so quickly. It wasn't that he was going to blindly chase after him. Judas did not believe in soulmates, or any other fanciful notion that his first awkward crush was his "true love" or some similar rubbish. Truth be told, he halfway hoped that Jesus had forgotten much of that week, he was sure he had embarrassed himself. And if he let himself think about it, it was a little alarming that Jesus had tracked him down after all this time. But he could get himself out of trouble if he had to. He had done it before plenty of times.

Besides, Jesus was attractive and charming, and while it had been years ago Judas hadn't forgotten his time with him at the wedding. It was silly, maybe even childish to hold on to a memento from a passing interest for so many years, but he had kept the sparrow Jesus had made for him. He would hold it on particularly dark nights, as if it could ward off crushing loneliness. Judas knew it was just a token, a gift from a playmate that should have been long forgotten. But it felt like it had been one of the only times someone had actually enjoyed his company. He had given up on that a long time ago, and he didn't want to let go sooner than he had to. And Jesus hadn't forgotten him either. He even kept his own sparrow. That had to mean something. He resolved to stay at least a day. Maybe he could enjoy a fling before going back to his routine of playing cards and going home to no company except for roaches and the occasional rat.