A Study in Music Theory (Wesper AU)

Eighteen: The Escape

Someone wanted to kill Flemming. Someone wanted to kill Flemming, did so, and now they might kill Wylan if not Jesper. Morbidly, Jesper wondered how they would do it. Would Jesper find Wylan's head bashed in like Flemming's, or would they get more creative about it? Maybe they'd crush in his lungs so his last few breaths were met with broken ribs and blood to the bronchi. Or maybe they'd slit his stomach and ask Jesper to name each organ like it was some kind of twisted biology exam.

Jesper hoped he'd never find out. He sprinted out of the Red Crane and down the street. He didn't care who he ran into — didn't even bother to check the street before running across it — all he cared about was making sure Wylan was safe.

He knew his way to the Van Eck house like the feel of his pistols in his hands. He could easily travel there blindfolded or asleep, and he could do it quickly. But time seemed to only move slower. His legs were now his worst enemy, and his side threatened to split open from running so fast.

He nearly ran into a post once he spotted the white house on the corner. It took everything in him to stop once he got to the locked door, his legs refusing to slow down. He stood back, his hands raised as his Zowa gift quickly unlocked the door for him.

Jesper ran through the house, not caring if any servants saw him or if he was tracking mud all over the white carpets. Jan Van Eck, for all he cared, could kiss his ring-wearing, men-loving, Zowa-Zemini ass.

'Saints, if Inej isn't crazy and you are real,' Jesper prayed, 'please let Wylan be alive. I'll give you burnt offerings or whatever you like if he's alright. Shit, I'll even throw a bone to Djel if Wylan's okay.'

He slammed open Wylan's door hard enough that the doorknob broke through the wall. A figure lit only by the small glow of a wax candle jumped and screamed. Jesper didn't need to see his face to know who it was. He wanted to cry out in relief.

"Wylan!"

"Jesper? What are you—"

Jesper didn't let him finish; he ran towards the now-standing Wylan, and swooped him up in his arms. He wanted to hold Wylan forever — he wanted to hold him tight enough that he could hear Wylan's little heartbeat and make sure it never stopped ticking. He wanted to kiss Wylan again and kiss him fiercely and apologize for not doing that the first day they met because Jesper was totally one hundred percent in love with his merchling.

"Gadas lo tibii, sundi, da vilis," Jesper said, the words slipping out of his mouth. He set Wylan down, though he held Wylan's face in his hands. "Promitta me numduan ite run-te dimiam. Ta mihi vis e-numquam telaede pos sem—"

"Jesper, what happened?"

"Elii du mageas qua issun mundum amo."

"Jes, I can't understand you."

"Uhn wisii enim adhue. Meus amor—"

"Jesper!"

"Vila-am mea. Fa-iires karissimii—"

Wylan stepped out of Jesper's reach and slapped him. It stung Jesper's cheek, but it did the job. Jesper snapped out of it immediately as he rubbed his raw cheekbone. He wouldn't be surprised if it was pink now — Wylan slapped him hard.

"Look, I want to help but there's no way I can do anything if you talk to me in Zemini," Wylan said. He sighed and sat down on his bed. His voice softened as he said, "Now what's wrong?"

"You know I would never do anything to hurt you, right?" Jesper said, sitting besides Wylan. It was important that he got that through to him. "I'd do anything to make sure you're safe."