Jacob
It felt like there was nothing stronger than the smell of antiseptic. Jacob had become familiarized with it the last two days spending the majority of his time in a hospital where people wore disinfectant like perfume. He was beginning to believe hell must have smelled this way too because that's what the last two days have been - hell. Aster was completely beside herself, seeing Charlon unconscious in a hospital bed, and on more than one occasion he'd escorted her out of the room whenever she became inconsolable. The events of the day before yesterday had been plaguing his mind without remorse, it was like a disease, and the both of them were its curator.
"They took her - they took Emily." Charlon's words reverberated in the silence of the destroyed shop, every inch of visible skin being marked and bruised. Jacob struggled to understand the gravity of the man's words, but when they hit him, his hands around Aster were no longer protective; they were possessive. His broad shoulders straightened, the air ripe with tension, "We need to contact Bastien," The older man agreed, his head nodding weakly as his attention swept the cafe, one all he, Emily, and Aster loved so dearly, "Do you know how?" Jacob questioned, his voice unwavering, and all he got in return was a single nod. Their father had gone off the grid, and it seemed that the only thing he was better at than being a snake was not being found. One thing both men knew was that if Emily was going to be returned safely, they needed the bastard's help.
The room was white, with a hospital bed positioned against a wall perpendicular to the windows; where a couch occupied the wall beneath them and pulled out into a double mattress. Wires upon wires connected Charlon's sleeping form into two different machines, each one whirring and humming in different tunes twenty-four hours a day. He'd learned that after the adrenaline leaves the system, all sorts of negative reactions can impact the human body - at least that's the explanation the doctor had given them for the older man's current condition. Aster refused to leave. They'd spent both nights in the hospital, and for Jacob it was beginning to wear on him. The only other piece of furniture was a chair in the opposing corner of the room, and his suited figure looked all the larger in it; dark eyes resting heavily on the girl beside the hospice bed, "Aster..." The room was so quiet beneath the machines' buzzing, his deep voice all but echoed, and his hands began to move, signing, immediately stirring her to attention, "Let me take you home tonight."
Her initial reaction was clearly no, the way her soft features hardened, contorting as she rose to her feet at a defensive speed, "N-No, I c-can't leave," She signed desperately, shaking her head in the process which disturbed the small curls around her ears from the growing length of her hair, "What if he w-wakes up?" Aster's eyes began to water once again, bright blue orbs rounding while she inhaled sharply, "I won't leave." She reiterated with finality, hands dropping as they found their way across her chest with folded arms. Jacob simply stared at her, silence overtaking the room again as she gazed back. The tension was palpable. It felt suffocating on his heart. There was no possibility of him forcing her out of this hospital, not without a fight. There were men surrounding them continuously, but it didn't mean he trusted that enough to leave for a few moments and fetch more of their belongings - no. He wouldn't leave her side.
With a steady sigh, he nodded his head, standing from the seat with the gentle clicking of his shoes, "I'm calling Matthew," The man spoke slowly, this time his hands resting by his sides, and instantly relief flooded her features, "I'll be right back." What were they doing here? Playing cat and mouse with an invisible enemy, the man had no idea what they were fighting. It seemed the only escape was a bathroom within the main hallway of the floor they'd been staying on. Considering it didn't see much traffic, it was as good a place as any for some real silence; without the slow, rhythmic beating of a heart monitor or the soft, airy hum of a face mask. The door swung open with a sharp whistle on its hinges, and the motion-sensor lights flickered on, projecting a sharp, white glare over the tiled bathroom, "Fuck," Jacob breathed, staring at an unfamiliar face in the mirror, "Fuck..." He echoed, looking at the mask that painted his face.
Had he always looked so old? Jacob was older than Aster. Hell, he'd been going through a God forsaken mid-life crisis for the last two weeks but it felt like that should have been concerning his graying hair or growing a beer gut - only one of which he'd managed - and maybe even incurring a debt or two, but not the looming threat of death over his fiance's grandfather. Fiance. He hadn't even thought about that word. This was someone's life, one that was completely separate to his own until he was thrown into the middle of this... Or did he do this himself? The line was blurred. All he could see was that the dark gaze of his reflection was hollow, tired, and weak. All he could see was weakness. Carefully, Jacob shifted his shoulders and folded the sleeve of his coat upwards, letting cold water wash over his hands before leaning down to drag them down the length of his face - cold water in all. All of this, the situation with Aster and Charlon, Emily and Bastien, made him feel like he'd been seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses. He sat up in his penthouse untouchable, he worked in an office protected by the threat of his influence, but now he was seeing what life was like below him and how isolated he was. He had seen first hand how, no matter what path of morality is walked, bad things will happen to good people.
The strands of hair sitting along his hairline slicked back with water as he ran his fingers upwards, combing them down before standing back up to give himself one last look; like washing up would have cleaned away the mask. It didn't. The man dried his hands off with a sigh and contacted Matthew as promised, listing off an array of different things they needed such as personal hygiene products and a change of clothing. It was a conversation that lasted a little less than five minutes before he was shoving the phone into his back pocket and unrolling the sleeves of his suit, exiting through the door just as another man passed by to enter. For some reason, he dreaded the walk back. Part of him hoped the old man would just sit up and everything would be alright, but the realist knew that it would be days before they saw any sort of improvement; if there was any of it to make. The still of the hallway was overbearing, the only sound being the steady clicking of his soles until even that came to a sudden halt when he immediately noticed the two men posted by the door had seemingly disappeared.
It wasn't like him to panic, but Jacob's mind was in a different place - in Aster's place. Just the thought of something bad happening to her had his heartbeat sputtering out of control, and his torso rigid with tension. Bracing a hand to the door, he wasted no time entering, at first only met with the same scene of Charlon laying in the bed. The further the door opened, the emptier the room became, noticing only how Aster was clearly not where she needed to be. Coming into view with the parallel couch, an all-too-familiar face occupied it, but not the one he'd been hoping for. Hugging is long, wiry frame was a tan suit accented by the color of lavender, his hair short, with white strands that faded darker closer to the scalp; and his face in a smile that could shake even an immovable man like Jacob. Bastien's eyes flickered to the doorway from where they'd rested on his father, and narrowed into slits above the snake-like grin marring his lined features, "Salut camarade," The French rolled off of his tongue smooth as silk, his legs crossing while the thin figure of his upper body leaned farther into the back of the couch, "Come in, come in. We've a lot to discuss, you and I."
*****
Hi everyone! I want to apologize for taking soooo long to update. Seriously. I promise I am working on it, but as many of you know my health is not good and it is a chronic struggle. As much as I love to write, and it does make me feel better mentally, it is hard to do it when I am so physically inabled currently. I just want you all to know how much it means to me to hear from you, and read your comments. It makes all of what I am going through so much easier, and I hope that you can understand and continue to be patient with me. Thank you guys so much for everything you do for me, my readers are the reason I keep writing.
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Aster
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