If Jude would count anything of himself as fragile, it would be his grasp on what's going on at any given moment, or what the future should hold. Perhaps that's his reason to so clearly avoid them, until it stops being possible. He has a few tics when the things on his mind are weighing too heavily - especially the things he puts very far back and tries not to think about at all.

Grinding teeth, pushing his hair through a series of directions, rubbing his fingers over the back of his head. There's a scar there, that he doesn't remember finding before, and he runs his finger over it now.

"I made a journal for Credence," he says, softer than the rest. Why speak any louder, with Bodhi hovering so close? "I - well, I have it back now. You should use it."