They all knew a little about Judas but not the whole story (not like Simon did), but still Peter could nod a little. His eyes went back down to his cup, trying to keep two trains of thought from coming together but it was failing. He wanted to think about that, about Simon and his reasons why, but his lower brain was getting in the way of his upper brain. His fingers tightened on the cup unconsciously and he sighed a little to himself.

"Not the same as me," Peter pointed out, not looking up. Sometimes he felt like he had messed up by not getting saved in the same way as the others, though he knew exactly what they meant. Meeting JC for the first time had been something else, something like light coming into his life. Simon... Simon had been the one to save him, as far as he was concerned. He brought up a hand and brushed the only remainder of that night, the small scar near his hairline.