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"I don't do that often," Jordan sighed. "Two reasons for it, back there. If I'd let myself feel anything right then, I would've exploded or broken down. And if I'd been personal at all, right then - well, people know you're my boyfriend. It'd be easy for others to say, well, they're dating, he's biased, and write off anything positive I said about you. So I had to disconnect from everything. It's kind of like what you said, about just separating yourself from an insult. Just shoving a feeling away until it's safe to have it." He looked away, shoulders hunching slightly. "I broke down later. Before you came back."

"There's a difference between being honest and being insulting," he pointed out. "I mean, I say you're an a*****e, it's just a description. Robert's an a*****e too, and he's one of my closest friends. That's honesty. Now, if I were to tell you you were a retarded son of a b***h, the same basic idea is there, but it's going to piss you off because I wouldn't be being honest, more like trying to hurt you or start a fight. You see?" He pulled one knee up and rested his heel on the bed. "If it's going to piss them off, but it's also going to do some kind of good, that's constructive, that's honest. If all it does is hurt them and make them want to hurt you back, that's insulting."

He propped his arm on his knee and rested his head on it. "Not being offensive doesn't mean you have to kiss a** or take undeserved bullshit from anyone. Just means thinking about what you say before you say it. Also means admitting when you're being an a**. You made it a little bit easier for yourself in that regard, actually. People expect you to be an a**, so being less of an a** will be seen as being nice." A small smile. "As for apologizing, you can say something like, Hey, I was an a** to you. I shouldn't have done that. Sorry, and as long as you sound like you mean it, you're fine. Once you're on better terms with other people, you can get away with saying harsher things."

His lips compressed briefly to a thin line. "The respect thing might be tougher. Just - think if you'd want them to do the same thing or something similar to you. If the answer's no, then don't."

"That night - " Jordan swallowed hard. "I didn't know if you were going to be dead the next day. If it was your last night I wasn't going to yell at you." He half-smiled. "I could still yell or hit you if it'd help. Shields, yeah, but it'd still hurt." He paused, eyes going briefly sharp and focused as something crossed his mind. He gave Rep a thoughtful look. "You hurt me, and you know it, but I haven't hurt you back, so it's not even, you're not okay with it."

He snorted. "Most people do care about little old ladies. If you let them know you don't, it makes you look bad." Then his eyes turned thoughtful, distant. "The freaks were kids," he said. "I dunno. It's just hard to feel right about killing kids. It's a war we're fighting, and war's not about killing, it's about winning."

He raised his eyebrows slightly. "You're trying to get to know them, maybe. But you're taking intimacy before earning it. You wouldn't show weakness to someone you didn't like, right? You want to know that they don't really want to hurt you before they jab at you. So what you're doing, you're pulling their walls down and looking at the raw stuff inside when they haven't let you in any. That hurts anyone."

The last comment made him smile faintly. "Okay, uh. How about this: if you think it'd make me frown at you, don't do it?"

"And there's one more reason not to be an a** to people, even if they deserve it," Jordan pointed out, smiling faintly. "Then they feel guilty and weird and like they owe you something. It's not hurting them, but it sure is uncomfortable, and you've just made them do it to themselves."

"Realistically, we can't destroy all the freaks and their world. There's too few of us and too many of them, and since the generation of Fear by humans created it, even if we did successfully destroy everything, who's to say it wouldn't just come back?" Jordan tilted his head slightly. "The way I see it, if most of them stay in their own world and out of ours, we've won. There's always going to be the rogues, the ones that don't give a s**t and attack anyway, and those ones, that's our job. We kill those." He huffed a small sigh. "Can't care about everyone in the world. It's a fine and noble thing to say, that we're here to protect all of humanity, and in the abstract that's true. But everyone here has a reason to be here, and it's probably not that. Me, I want what's left of my family to live safely and happily. My aunt, my cousins. My cousins' dad, on the other hand, that a*****e can feel free to get eaten, preferably slowly and painfully."

"That's one of those things you wouldn't want them to do to you. You get to insult people more when they like you," he said, and leaned against Rep's shoulder.

The suggestion got an actual laugh from Jordan. "That feeling, that's probably a good indicator," he agreed. "And speaking of which," he pulled away slightly to give Rep a stern look, "have you returned that flute?"

"Allan is one of those few people who really is fighting to save all humanity, I think," Jordan said dryly. "I kind of like him, though. Certainly the best division lead."

"You want a fight, you can ask, dumbass." He prodded Rep's side with his elbow. "A good spar, the only real difference between that and trying to kill someone is that I stop when the shield goes down, theirs or mine."

He had the sense that there was something Rep wasn't telling him, but he couldn't quite pin down what it might be. "Probably a good idea. I guess I'm not that surprised. Her flute - from what I gather, that was kind of like if someone stole that rainbow shirt Harrison gave you, just to get at you."

"It's a good goal, anyway," Jordan agreed. "I'd like to make them proud myself."

His mouth twisted wryly. "Well," he conceded, "if you got along with everyone, you wouldn't really be you. Just trying to get social relations in some kind of workable order, avoiding the whole murdering thing." He couldn't really deny that he might inadvertently hold back; it was true.

"Well, if it's settled enough," he said, worry still in his tone. "I don't like you being unarmed." He fell silent for a moment, then added, "All I ask is that you keep the stuff I said in mind. It's hard watching you dig your own holes."

Jordan smiled thinly. "That's not what determines all of your worth." But he'd gotten enough explanations, enough concessions; trying to convince Rep that he was more than his ability to fight wasn't happening today.

Suppressed irritation bubbled back up briefly; he added, "And don't ever ******** do that to me again," and reached over to smack the side of Rep's head, a little harder than he needed to.

"Well, I didn't hear a brain rattling around in there, so either I didn't hit you hard enough or there's none in there," Jordan grumbled. He eyed Rep suspiciously. "I'd almost suspect you wanted to get beat up."

Jordan's eyes narrowed speculatively. "That's interesting," he mused.