Wake of the Dead | Two

Chapter Nineteen | Killian

"He left when the others decided they'd rather not have him along." Killian retorted sharply.

"Then prove them wrong."

Swallowing back an anxious bile that raised to the back of his throat, Killian grabbed onto a large rock at the bottom of the gully. Straining with all of his strength, he managed to just barely drag himself up. He used the side to help him stand, panting softly.

A sweat beaded at his forehead as he glared up the side of the ledge, brows narrowed. Jasper climbed up to join the others, followed by Aubrey. Chris snorted with amusement and walked off. Harley watched from a distance and Aubrey sat right beside Jasper, who knealt down and extended his hand. "Come on Boy Scout, you can do it."

After catching his breath, Killian dug his nails into a crack on the stone surface. Hauling himself up, he let out a sharp yelp as he felt himself slip. The stone grated against his fingertips, scraping the skin off of them. Blood slowly dropped down onto the stone beneath him. "Come on kid," Jasper said. Killian could hear his voice suddenly tensing up. "Don't look behind you."

"Well now I wanna look behind me!" Killian protested. We winced as the pain on his fingertips only grew more and more intense, making him feel sick.

"Don't." Jasper said sternly. "But you need to hurry."

"I'm trying!" Killian snarled.

"Be quiet." Jasper hissed.

Narrowing his eyes, Killian tried again. Jumping up, he grabbed onto a ledge a little more that halfway up the slope, almost as tall as Jasper. Barely managing to grip onto it was hard enough. Digging his fingers and palms painfully against the stone, he used his good leg in an attempt to drag himself up to his elbows. Already he could feel his muscles weakening, but he clenched his jaw with determination. He wouldn't let himself fall again.

A few ragged, pained breaths escaped his lips as Killian helplessly tried to shove himself up using his good leg, but couldn't find any traction. "Come on, Killian. You have to do this." Jasper's voice shook a bit. Killian heard a low growl beneath him, but forced himself not to look down. There's a biter under me now, isn't there? Killian realized. That's why he needed me to hurry.

Mustering every bit of strength he had left, Killian strained against his aching muscles and managed to drag himself up to his elbows. From there, he did his best at clumsily dragging himself onto the top of the halfway ledge. "Almost there. Just get high enough to grab my hand now." Jasper said.

Nodding, Killian already felt like giving up—but he didn't feel like being biter chow that day. Or any other day. Bunching together as much desperation as he could, Killian could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, heart the blood roaring in his ears and his own heartbeat. Finally, he dragged himself up enough to grab onto Jasper's hand. The man immediately reached to pull Killian up, helping him the rest of the way.

There was barely enough energy left to stand when Killian got to Jasper. His good leg was shaking, his arms exhausted, lungs burning from effort, the pain in his fingertips sending hot flashes up hands. Panting, he just pressed his forehead into Jasper's shoulder, breathing in the man's comforting scent. "Jasper," he said shakily, "Can we go home now?" Glancing behind him, Killian could see the biter beneath him, fascinated by the scent of blood on the rocks.

An exhausted shudder ran down Killian's spine. He was tempted to just lay down and sleep, but knew he couldn't stop just yet. "We can go home now." Jasper said, running his fingers through Killian's hair. Killian closed his eyes, almost falling asleep until he was jerked back awake by Jasper's voice. "No sleeping. We're almost there, love."

It took Killian a few seconds to process what Jasper had called him. Love? There were several nicknames he'd garnered himself when it came to Jasper. Kid, Boy Scout...but Love? Jasper had never called him that before. He gave Jasper a glare, but felt a sheepish blush on his cheeks. He didn't mind being called that by Jasper. But if anybody else did, he'd punch them. Only Jasper was allowed to give him nicknames. Was Love even a nickname though? Perhaps just a term of endearment. In that same train of thought, that meant Killian was endearing to him, which summoned a swarm of butterflies in his chest.

That was more confusing, however. Love was a strong word. Up until that point, Killian had always wondered what Jasper really thought of him. Had Killian just been a replacement of a friend Jasper lost? Was he just something to look after? Control? A friend? With all of those thoughts running through his head, Killian had to think of everything. Every moment they spent together, every feeling he'd had around Jasper. Those feelings he had around the other man—were they genuine love? Is that what it felt like?

A bit shell-shocked, Killian stared at Jasper for a few seconds. "Love?" He barely managed to squeak out.

The other man tilted his head to the side, cocking a single brow with an impish grin. "Did I stutter, love? I meant what I said." He ruffled Killian's hair playfully, then helped the young man get to his feet. Killian felt as if he might melt. He hated it, but simultaneously couldn't get enough of it. Then, a tingling excitement itched at his fingertips, and for a few moments he forgot all about the pain in his leg.