Jude would know even less what to do with the facts of Bodhi than he does with the present reality of him. Whatever he thought to sign up for is increasingly out of his depth, in a way that doesn't push him back, but makes him wonder--when is Bodhi going to want someone who can grasp all the things he worries about? Someone who can hold all those ideas in their head and hands and work out the answers with him? He's not sure that's him.

When things got this kind of bad for him, he'd just tried to run home. And he hadn't even done that right.

But Bodhi takes his hand all the same, and for the first time, Jude wonders who he's doing that for. It's miserably cold in the unheated parts of the house, begging the question of how long Bodhi sat, or intended to sit, out here. Jude tries not to grip his hand back too tight, or let through the shiver building at his sternum. "What do you need to have happened," is all he can ask. "It's not--I don't see how we're ever going to know. You have to pick whatever lets you keep going." That Kira could be dead, he could be the same one walking around, memory taken or altered. He could be safely home with whatever life he had before this place. It isn't personal to Jude, the way wondering about Credence might be, but he understands why Bodhi cares.