After a few seconds processing everything, Chris and Harley worked together to move a bookshelf in front of the one living room window. Jasper's vision blurred. The only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat. He couldn't breathe, choking desperately on whatever air he could take in. Voices sounded far off and fuzzy, dull, echoing as if everybody were speaking through a tunnel. His arms shook as he tried to pull himself up, using the couch to help himself. Killian's familiar face stumbled clumsily in front of him, his hands cupping Jasper's cheeks.
"Baby, it's okay. Everything alright now, you're safe." Killian said desperately. Jasper could feel a cold sweat on his forehead. Unsteadily, he pressed his face into Killian's neck, his breathing sharp and catching in his chest.
There was nothing else to say as his voice cracked, "Killian," He whispered, feeling tears forming at the corners of his eyes. "Killian," He repeated shakily. As the tears spilled over he could only repeat the other man's name. He hid his face from the others, not wanting them to see him cry. "Killian." The younger man's scent engulfed him. He drank it in, almost as if it was water.
Gentle hands awkwardly stroked his hair. Killian pulled Jasper even closer, wrapping his arms around him as best as he could. Jasper was too terrified at the time to notice how Killian's arms couldn't reach all the way around him. "You're safe. I won't let anything hurt you." Killian soothed. He was trying his best, Jasper could tell, but it was painfully obvious that he didn't have much experience with comforting others. Yet, it worked.
Gradually, Jasper's breathing began to even out. He felt lightheaded, his chest burning and feeling tight. Every bone in his body trembled, his hand still clenched tight around the tire iron. Jasper felt Killian's warm hand help him pry the crowbar away from his grip, letting it drop to the floor. "I'm okay," Jasper said softly as he began to collect himself again. Suck it up soldier, he scolded himself silently. You've seen worse that first day in the city. Somehow it still felt different. Wilson had been somebody he'd known. Now, he'd witnessed the man get ripped to shreds and eaten alive.
"What the hell happened?" Tom said. His eyes suddenly narrowed, a frown on his lips. "Where's Wilson?" Nobody from the patrol spoke. Jasper's mouth grew dry, a painful lump in his throat preventing him from uttering a single word. In their grim silence, Tom's expression changed from bewildered to solemn.
Across from Jasper, Casimir cradled Keagan in his arms, holding the back of her head as she clung to him, her hands gripping onto his shirt. Samantha helped Casimir adjust to take the bow and quiver off of his back without letting go of the young woman in his arms.
Beside him, Darren pressed against Jasper's side, laying his head against his shoulder. He gripped onto Jasper's arm, hand shaking, squeezing him to an almost painful level. "Jasper..." He said shakily. His eyes were glazed over, staring at nothing, widened and horrified.
When Jasper slowly began to recover and force his mind back to working, he realized that the events of what happened replayed in his mind. Yet, the more they repeated, the less he felt. He knew what was happening. Something similar to what he'd experienced a few times before. As a coping mechanism, he was processing the events over and over in rapid succession until they no longer frightened him. It would always haunt him he knew. But until he had the time to appropriately react to what happened, the trauma would fade into the back of his mind.
The only person that seemed generally unaffected by the sudden action was Cohen. The doctor stood next to Tom, his gaze more calculative than alarmed. The man's arms crossed as he surveyed the scene, his expression unreadable. When he pinpointed Jasper's pseudo-recovery he said bluntly, "Tell us what happened before you lose your memory."
Killian's lips parted to deliver a stinging retort, but Jasper shook his head once. Killian hesitated for a few moments, then headbutted Jasper's shoulder to demand comfort. Burying his fingers into Killian's curls, Jasper admired the softness. "We were patrolling the area," He said shakily. Clearing his throat to stop the uneven wavering he continued. "Then we heard a growl. Out of nowhere, there were two biters. One—it didn't look like the others." Jasper narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. "It was skinny and agile. Quicker...maybe smarter. It tackled Wilson and..." His voice trailed off. Swallowing back a bitter bile that raised to the back of his throat he forced himself to speak.
"The thing tackled Wilson," Jasper repeated. "It tore into him, ripped him apart. The second biter bit his throat out. Then a ton of others showed up," Jasper noticed a sudden spark of interest in Cohen's eyes when he mentioned the biter that wasn't exactly like the others. "They all swarmed over him. The strange biter grabbed one of them and smashed its head in, then a few moved away from Wilson and started eating the dead biter."
A murmur of unease traveled throughout the room. "Casimir and I killed them. Then we ran. That's how we got here."
"It was right behind you," Aubrey said softly. In the silence of the room, it wasn't hard to hear her speak.
Jasper interrupted before anybody could saw anything. "It grabbed onto my ankle," he admitted. "It didn't scratch me though." He unlaced his boot and pulled up the bottoms of his pants, just to prove to the others he didn't lie. There was no need to cause a stir over people wondering if he'd gotten scratched, bitten or not. Jasper didn't know if people could get turned by being scratched, but he didn't want to find out.
Next to Tom, Cohen's expression was still unreadable--almost to an eerie extent. "You said one of the biters were...different." The doctor inquired, "Different how so?" A few strands of his dark hair fell in front of his eyes. Cohen tied his long hair back into a bun, adjusting his glasses back in place.
It only made sense for Cohen to be interested in the biters, Jasper reminded himself. The man was a doctor, he was bound to be intrigued. Shaking his head, Jasper closed his eyes tight. He didn't want to remember what it looked like. But maybe telling the group about it would be best. If some of the biters were changing, they needed to figure out how to differentiate between them and what dangers came along with each. "It was fast. Really fast. Skinny--almost like a skeleton, sunken eyes and exposed teeth. It moved kind of jerky, but not like its limbs were stiff. More like it moved so fast that when it was standing still it was just...surreal."
Explaining what the wretched creature looked like made Jasper feel cold. Like he wasn't himself. Surely something like that would never happen in front of him? Maybe it was all a bad dream. None of it was real. But if none of it was real, how long would he be dreaming? It wasn't until Killian nudged him that Jasper snapped back to reality, seeing everybody staring at him. Clenching his hands he continued, "It was completely bald...look, I don't know what to tell you! What else do you want me to say? It just..." Killian desperately tried to comfort him, but Jasper could feel his distress only beginning to grow more and more. "It fucking tore him apart. I couldn't do anything to stop it. I couldn't look away."
"Enough, Cohen." Tom's command was stern and strong, his eyes narrowing. "They need time to process everything, time to rest." Nodding to Samantha and Harley the group leader said, "Can you two start dinner while the others and I barricade the house? We don't know if they're still out there, we can't take any chances." He hesitated as his eyes reached Killian. He added carefully, "Take care of him."
"I don't need taking care of." Jasper replied on impulse, his muscles stiffening. Running his hands down his face, he could feel the cold sweat on his forehead. He didn't want to eat, he felt sick. But Jasper knew that would probably be the best thing he could do. When Tom and Killian exchanged small glances, Jasper knew they both guessed he was lying.
A soft, gently hand cupped his cheeks. Killian said softly, "Come on. You need some sleep and food. Water too."
Despite the younger man trying to be strong for him, Jasper could tell how shaken he was as well. Jasper was known in the group for being brave, the horrors of the world often not phasing him one bit, unlike the others. Seeing him so frightened was bound to be cause for concern. Clearing his throat, he stood up and shook his head one more time to try and clear away the lingering sound of Wilson's screams. "How about we both get some rest, love?" He said softly. "You look like you need it too." It took him a few moments to finally realize, "You shouldn't be walking around-"
"Don't tell me what to do," Killian immediately snapped. "If you're in trouble, I'm going to be walking around and see what the hell is happening. Can't stop me. Stop being so selfless for once."
A slow smile crept across Jasper's lips as he said softly, "Yes, sir."
❖ ❖ ❖
After dinner, Jasper had finally agreed to settle down for the night. To Killian's annoyance though, the man was standing by the window of their bedroom, eyes staring outside without blinking. His brows were narrowed, a frown on his lips. Despite worrying for Jasper, Killian couldn't help but stare as well.
The other man's figure was nothing short of impressive. Tall, handsome—two things he already appreciated. But if that didn't make it pleasant enough, his broad shoulders and toned chest definitely helped. When Jasper was finally ready to sleep, Killian watched very closely as he pulled his shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor. The waistband of his pants fell just above his hips, after an exhausting day, Jasper seemed not to care much about decency. That was fine with Killian—it just let him catch a better view of Jasper's muscles.
Soon though, Killian's interest turned quickly to alarm. In the moonlight, he could make out the gruesome shapes of scars lacing systematically across his back and shoulders. They weren't random, like one would expect. Somebody had hurt him with intent. Walking over to Jasper, Killian could feel the cold floor through his socks. The nights were uncomfortable in this room at the very back of the farmhouse, where the heat from the fireplace downstairs didn't reach.
When he found himself standing behind Jasper, Killian noticed how the other man glanced at him, just enough to let Killian know he knew he was there. When Jasper looked away, Killian hesitantly reached out. As soon as his finger brushed up against Jasper's skin, he could see goosebumps raise along the other man's back. He paused for a few seconds, but Jasper made no move to stop him.
Carefully, Killian traced one of the scars on Jasper's back that was in his reach. He made sure to be gentle, barely brushing up against the warm skin, almost as if the past wounds were still sensitive. He heard a small grunt of surprise from Jasper's who once again glanced towards him. Killian took a step back, looking down at the floor. "Sorry, I-"
Turning to face him, Jasper set a gentle hand on Killian's cheek. He leaned down, pressing a warm kiss on his forehead. With his pulse skyrocketing, Killian wondered if Jasper would be able to see his deep blush in the shadows of their unlit room. "Wait." Jasper said softly. Killian wasn't sure what Jasper had planned, until the other man moved behind him and imitated what he had just done. Immediately a shiver ran down his spine. Leaning forwards and pressing his hands against the bottom of the windowframe to hold himself up, Killian felt his breath caught in his throat.
"You have them too," Jasper said. "I remember, from a long time ago. When Cohen checked your breathing after you fell in the river." Not being able to find the words to reply, Killian nodded. His heart pitter-pattered quickly in his chest, hands clenching tight. Killian felt Jasper's hand lingering at the bottom of his shirt, hesitating. "Can I see them?" He asked.
Not sure how to reply, all Killian knew was that he didn't want to explain them. Not yet. "No," He said shakily. "Not yet."
Immediately Jasper instead kissed the back of Killian's head. "That's okay," He murmured. There was a long and peaceful silence. After a minute or so, Killian leaned back against Jasper's strong chest, closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth. He felt safe like that, close up against Jasper. He could hear the other man's strong heartbeat with his ear up against his chest, as well as the rumbling bass in Jasper's voice as he spoke. "Today was a bit stressful." He said, "I'm sorry if I ever frightened you."
"Stressful is an understatement," Killian mumbled. He wasn't sure if Jasper could hear him mumbling against his chest, but he didn't ask Killian to repeat himself. Instead, Jasper chuckled. "You didn't scare me yourself," Killian added hastily. "I was scared for you. Not of you."
There was a question on the tip of Killian's tongue, but he wasn't sure how to say it. Without thinking he clumsily worded, "How long will you wait for me?"
"Wait for you?" Killian could see Jasper's reflection in the window, cocking his head to the side curiously. "How do you mean?"
"Will you still love me," Killian choked up on his words, having to clear his throat to continue. "Even if I take so long to...get used to this? Or to..." Killian trailed off, unsure of how to word his question. Still, Jasper kissed the back of his head again. Killian got the feeling he understood.
"No matter how long it takes—Days, weeks, months. Maybe longer." Jasper said, "I'll wait for you. Nothing will change the way I feel, no matter the time that passes by."
"Promise?"
"I promise."