The one good thing about going into Archivist mode was he could never really bring himself to speak. Speaking would interrupt the story, and unless the giver was addressing him he found no reason to do so. The statements always came without his intervention- he supposes that's because of the compulsion. An unpleasant thought. He didn't even ask Martin anything this time but he wonders if it still triggered and dragged the story out of him.

He's glad for the not speaking though, because there was too much of that story clawed at his gut violently. It didn't feel- ok, it felt real before but it wasn't so incredibly there, the image of Jude with Martin, hurting him, threatening to hurt him, locking her claws into him. The very thought made him ill, bile nearly rising in his throat at the bit about Martin's pain as the payment.

"Statement ends." He manages before slumping, rubbing his eyes for a long moment under his glasses. He pulls his hands away to turn off the recorder- if it's stay off was hard to say, but he didn't damn well care. He turns to Martin, reaching to take his good hand. He struggles with what to say.

"She won't get to you again." He finally manages, jaw set, grip tight.