Wake of the Dead | Three

Chapter Seventy | Jasper

He woke up early in the morning, he didn't have to tell Killian where he was going, his boyfriend would already know. It was an odd situation, leaving his bed to go and speak with an ex lover—who already had a foot in the grave. Jasper would be lying if he said he didn't feel guilty for any odd reason. Killian already said it was alright. I should get to say goodbye to him. Even if he doesn't deserve it. He stood up carefully as to not stir his partner awake.

Even if Luke hurt me, I've always been too soft on him. Nobody deserves to die alone in a cold room. Not somebody who's suffering. And he won't make me kill him while he's still lucid. I know that much. Jasper got dressed as soundlessly as he could, slipping on his shirt, holstering his weapons into place and putting on his jacket. He pressed a delicate kiss onto Killian's forehead. The younger man was still half-asleep and mumbled, "Be safe."

"I'll be back soon." Jasper whispered. He pet Killian's hair for a few moments, gave him another kiss on the cheek, then stood and left the room. He shut the bedroom door closed behind him, then blinked with surprise. Rixon was already awake, sitting outside with Casimir beside him. They must be the last ones to keep watch of the cabin, then. He left the cabin and walked out onto the wooden steps, "You two should get some rest. The guards will be up soon anyways."

Rixon nodded, "Thanks." Casimir said nothing, but offered a sluggish blink of acknowledgement. The blonde laid his head against Rixon's shoulder, closing his eyes again. Poor Cas has been on his feet ever since we got here. He deserves a day to sleep. Jasper nodded a silent farewell and started over across the camp, heading into the small hut that was built into the watch tower near the front gates. One woman and one man sat on either side of the door, the woman was carving something out of an old slab of wood, while the man looked to be daydreaming. Wow, excellent security. He thought wryly.

Jasper snapped, "I'm the one who brought him in." Before the guards even opened their mouths. He held out one hand to demand the key to the padlock on the door. His authoritative tone wasn't enough, much to his annoyance. "Just give me," he said through clenched teeth, "the fucking key." He wasn't one to be so aggressive, but his nerves were already on edge.

The woman scrambled to her feet and bristled, sizing him up. She's brave. Jasper thought as he had to crane his head down to look her in the eyes. "What makes you think you can just stroll over here and demand to see a prisoner?" She snapped.

Jasper's nose wrinkled impatiently. "He isn't a prisoner," he growled. "He's being held in here for isolation." Technically a half lie, but she doesn't know that. Just let me in the room! I promised I'd be here.

The woman crossed her arms, raising a skeptical brow. There was a snarky, sarcastic grin on her face, one that made Jasper's blood boil. "What are you going to do, punch a woman for it?"

"If I have to."

"Whoa, calm down there." Jasper's eyes flickered over to Noel, who was slowly approaching them. An easygoing smile played at his lips, "Come on, now. Let the man see his dying friend." The woman's face paled. She didn't know he's dying. Does none of the guards here tell each other what's going on? Why is Noel the only helpful one here. The woman silently handed Jasper the keys after unhooking it from her belt, but she wasn't happy about it.

Jasper returned the same infuriating grin back to her, then took the keys and unlocked the door. He quickly closed it behind him, dropping the key ring on the table. He swallowed hard once he saw the other man. Luke was pushed up against the far left corner of the room, struggling to breathe. Blood was slowly dripping down from his lips and nose, his skin paler than it had ever been before. He looks like Rowan did before he died.