Wake of the Dead | Three

Chapter Twenty-two | Jasper & Killian

The ground flew up at Jasper faster than he thought it could as he was shoved out of the truck. Any breath he had was expelled from his lungs when he hit the cold soil, scraping his knees and chin as he struggled to sit up. A harsh grip settled around his hair and dragged him up until he was on his knees, his eyes squinted in an attempt to prevent the dust from the truck wheels kicking up into them. He wanted to curse at his captors more than anything, but the gag in his mouth was impossible to spit out. The rough fabric scratched across the corners of his lips and his cheeks, the ropes binding his wrists together were even tighter. He wouldn't make a fool of himself and try to reason with The Silence. 

The camp was a familiar one, much more settled than the scouting site he'd initially been brought to. How far away from the farmhouse was he now? How far away from the city? Jasper didn't know, he didn't care. Only one thing mattered to him now. He needed to escape and find Killian. The walls of this camp were much higher, the buildings were more official and fortified, more furnished and comfortable. The entrance was a large set of gates, pulled open by two Silence fighters standing on a top platform that ran along the walls, much like a watch tower. Through the camp and directly across from him was an altar of sorts, set on top of a dais. To the left of it was where a large group of Silence were gathered around a rickety table, laughing over a game of cards. But there was a horrendously familiar figure lingering in the darker shadows of the wall. 

Jasper's nails dug into his palms as he watched Stephan lazily turn his head to stare at him. The massive man was leaning against the camp wall with a few Reapers around him, their contempt for The Silence was quite obvious. But possibly the most heartbreaking thing about his presence was the smaller figure next to him, cowering beneath Stephan's hand as it ran through those familiar brunette curls. When he'd first met Killian, the first thing he'd noticed was that fiery disposition and the urge to fight anything that came near him. But watching that be reduced to a frightened and vulnerable outward appearance was enough to break him. There was no doubt in Jasper's mind that Killian was definitely taken better care of than he'd initially thought. 

When he got a closer look at the younger man though, the partial relief was replaced with a hatred he'd never before felt in his life--it almost frightened him. Jasper had never experienced this utter rage, the amount of loathing he had for Stephan. It couldn't even compare to the bitterness he had towards The Silence. He could quite clearly see the bruises on Killian's cheek, the spotting of where Stephan would have gripped him around the throat. There were dark, exhausted bags under the younger man's eyes, he was more malnourished--almost like when Jasper had first found him. The only thing that brought him some sort of comfort was the fact that Killian was still holding his jacket. 

Killian ducked away under Stephan's arm, holding his hands up closer to his face. Even from a distance Jasper could see his partner nibbling anxiously at the too-long sleeves, those beautiful hazel eyes downcast and completely devoid of any thoughts or emotions. Jasper recognized that look, it was one he'd seen on his colleagues many times over. He was retreating into the only safe place he had left, his own mind, cutting away any outside stimuli that might upset him. My poor baby. Jasper thought. He barely blinked back the hot tears behind his eyes. Killian, my love. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I couldn't save you sooner.

Killian's eyes briefly flickered up when the truck was beginning to pull off again and loud voices echoed through the camp, orders being issued regarding what was going to happen next. When Jasper's own gaze met his lover's, the rest of the world faded away. All other sounds dulled into the background, the pain began to numb. Was Killian really there? Part of Jasper hoped he was, but another part didn't. As long as his love was in Stephan's hands, he was in danger. But he couldn't bear to wish he was anywhere else but there, with him. His brows slowly narrowed though, when his partner didn't immediately run over.