Work Text:
Jasper has been on his own now for a long time. If he's honest with himself, he thinks he prefers it this way.
He sits in an alcove of his Labyrinth, his tools spread out around him. Pencils, erasers, rulers, paper, and a portable surface to draw on. A head lamp secured around his skull provides illumination in the otherwise never-ending darkness. His ice-white eyes are focused, concentrating. He is drawing the impossible architecture above and ahead of him, and is somehow managing to replicate it almost perfectly on paper. He used to struggle with translating the mind-bending doors, arches and staircases onto paper, but time, patience and overexposure to the Labyrinth has made this task easier. The longer he stays down there, the more time he spends in these dark, twisted halls, the easier it is. Occasionally Jasper thinks about what the Labyrinth is doing to his brain. Sometimes, he can see the Labyrinth when he closes his eyes to sleep. He wonders if a night may come when he won't need a light to navigate his way around down here, and can do it by intuition, memory and touch alone.
Jasper's Beast is happy, content. It belongs down there. He belongs down there. There is no one to bother him. No one makes a stupid joke, or comments on his appearance or habits. No one is sad or angry or disgusted. He can be himself here. In a way, this Labyrinth is his birth right. Zelios, the Master Architect and creator of the Labyrinth, gifted it to him as his descendant. Something deep inside Jasper is proud of this.
Time slips away, in silence and solitude. The only sound is that of pencil on paper.
The alarm on his phone makes Jasper jump. His attention is yanked away from the stone, pencil and paper. This is his sunrise alarm. He has enough time to get back to his bed if he packs up and leaves now. Even knowing that, he hesitates. He doesn't want to leave. He's slept down in the Labyrinth before, more times than he's bothered to keep track of, but he knows he should go. He'll likely need to feed tomorrow.
Reluctantly, Jasper packs up and starts his journey back.
When he emerges from the Labyrinth and his phone has access to signal once again, it lights up with missed messages. Chloe wants to meet up, Kyoko wants to pick his brain, and Victor is reminding him that he's always welcome in The Valley if he wants to stop by and say “hi.” Jasper growls to himself and doesn't reply to any of the messages. He puts his phone on to charge and goes to bed.
Before Jasper enters the day sleep, he feels the empty space next to him on the mattress where Eva used to lay. Something in him tightens painfully. If he were honest with himself, he'd be forced to admit that whatever small part of him that clings to humanity is enormously lonely. He rolls over and hugs himself until unconsciousness takes him.