the killing kind - (lgbt | onc 2022)

3

word count: 2441
total word count: 6467

No hint of the manic energy that had gripped Jasper in its fist resided. His eyes followed Kavi as he pulled out a chair—his pupils had shrunk to a normal size, showing off the gold-flecked irises Kavi had once known so well. He sat down and placed a hand in his coat pocket, discreetly pressing the start button on the recorder Declan had given him.

He'd fought against that. Even now, guilt ate at his bones—this was a betrayal of the small amount of trust Jas held for him. But Laura and Declan had insisted.

The moment of silence stretched between them, quivering and growing until Kavi finally snapped it.

"Did you sleep well?"

It was hard to imagine he had. Declan had cuffed one of his wrists securely to the bedpost, and that silver brace still held him there now, although he'd managed to sit up, legs crossed beneath him.

"Yeah," Jasper replied, making Kavi quirk a brow.

"Really?"

Jasper nodded, then paused. The heat of his scrutinizing gaze crept underneath Kavi's skin, making the morning sunlight that glowed through the bedroom window feel cold in comparison.

"This was my bed, wasn't it?" He asked at last.

A warm flush of hope filled Kavi's chest and he nodded, a little too quickly. "Yeah, it was. This was your room. You remember it?"

"Not the room." His dark gaze drifted over the walls, studying each artifact that he had once selected, loved, displayed—from band posters on the walls to his neat stack of vintage comics. Laura had refused to clean any of it up after he'd run away, even after they stopped talking about his possible return.

Jasper spoke haltingly, like he had to think about each word before he said it. "But the mattress feels familiar."

"It should. You've been sleeping on it since you were ten."

"I lived here?"

"You lived here with Laura and I. Do you remember Laura?" Kavi leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "Anything from when we were growing up?"

Jasper's expression was distant, brows pulled into a frown. "No."

"Alright. That's okay—we'll get there, I'm sure." Kavi itched to be closer, to reach out and take Jasper's uncuffed hand. He was so close, but behind those deep, confused eyes, impossibly far. "Oh, I—I brought breakfast."

Kavi got to his feet and retrieved the plate he'd brought in and promptly forgot about when he'd finally gotten a glimpse at Ashwell's missing boy again. Laura had remembered how much Jasper normally ate, filling the paper plate—a precaution in case Jasper decided to use it as a weapon—with two pancakes, each drizzled in a generous helping of syrup.

Mostly, it was an excuse for Kavi to get closer, to test Jasper's reaction.

He stepped close enough to reach out and touch him, then gingerly held out the plate. For a moment, the Jasper he'd known flickered back into existence as his expression warped into gratitude.

"Thank you," he said. The moment Kavi sat back down, Jasper fell on the offering like a starved animal, despite only having one hand free to work with the fork. He managed to wolf the meal down anyways in a matter of minutes, plate balanced precariously on his knee.

Kavi couldn't resist a laugh. "Wow. I'd have brought you something to eat earlier if I'd known you were so hungry."

"It's been days," Jasper admitted. Laura said food was the key to trust, to the human heart, and maybe she had a point, because Jasper sounded more relaxed—more like himself—than Kavi had heard since his return.