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1.
Jasper got his first scar the day he was arrested.
Only an idiot would try to run. Where are you going to hide on a densely populated and highly monitored space station? The guards who had searched his room and discovered his stash found it hilarious when Jasper bolted out of the door.
“There’s nowhere to run, kid!” they called after him.
Their laughter chased him all the way down the halls. Behind the echoes of that laughter Jasper could still hear the sound of his parents sobbing.
But Jasper wasn’t as stupid as they thought. He wasn’t running for his own sake. He knew that he was screwed. He knew exactly what this meant for him. Three years in the Sky Box followed by a likely floating on his eighteenth birthday. Worst of all Jasper would have no dope or booze in lock up to take his mind off things. He was so screwed.
His best friend didn’t have go down with him though. Monty had his bright future in engineering. Monty was the one of them who wasn’t worthless. Like Monty’s dear old mom always said, Jasper was just the 'waste of oxygen' who was holding her son back. And maybe she was right. Maybe this was the last chance he had to make up for that. If Jasper could just find someone who could get a message to Monty, tell him that he needed to flush his own stash before they came to search his room too…then at least one of them would have a chance. At least one of them might live longer than a day into their adulthood.
Jasper burst into the canteen, sweating and wheezing. He looked back over his shoulder, but it seemed like the two guards were being lazy in their pursuit. His eyes scanned the room, frantically. He caught sight of Harper sitting at a table in the far corner. Yes, Harper could warn Monty. Jasper rushed down the aisle, waving his hands. Harper was just looking up startled from her soybeans when a voice hollered across the room.
“Stop him! He’s the little punk who’s been stealing medicine!”
Jasper made it just two more paces before he tripped, smacked his head against a table and fell sprawling on the floor. He was pretty sure someone had put out their leg to trip him.
When he woke up in the medical bay, he found that Dr Griffin had removed his goggles, shaved a patch in his hair and put five stitches in his scalp. He was also handcuffed to the hospital bed with an escort of guards just waiting for him to be discharged.
“You’re right, it was me,” Jasper babbled, his head still spinning. “I admit it, okay? I’m the one that stole the herbs. Just me, okay, nobody else...”
“Can it, Jordan,” the guard said, cutting him off. “We already arrested Green this morning. Both your asses are going straight to the Box.”
Jasper just stared at them. His eyes filled up with tears that tumbled clumsily down his cheeks. With his one free hand Jasper fingered the stitched gash on the side of his skull. He winced as the new wound started to sting and throb.
The guards wouldn’t let Dr Griffin give him anything for the pain.
2.
The spear had missed Jasper’s heart, at least that’s what they told him.
It left him with two cracked ribs, a bruised lung and a knot of yellow scar tissue and blistered skin on his chest. But his heart hadn’t been touched. His heart wasn't a factor in this injury. That's what Clarke had told him. She said that he’d been very lucky.
And for those first few hours after his fever broke, Jasper did feel lucky. He had friends around him. New friends who'd risked their lives to rescue him even though some of them had only known him for a day. He had Octavia Blake smiling at him. He had Finn Collins Spacewalker calling him ‘buddy’. Monty was right there squeezing his hand.
It still hurt like hell to breathe but not so much that Jasper planned to stop doing it anytime soon.
His relief didn’t last long. Just a little after sun up, they woke to the sound of distant screaming. The reason for the panic spread fast, like wildfire.
They’d found Wells Jaha out by the treeline. He’d been stabbed in the throat.
Everyone rushed back to the Dropship, too scared to be outside. They begged Bellamy to close the door and so he yanked up the lever. Wells had been killed right there on the boarders of their camp. And suddenly the others weren’t looking at Jasper with sympathy anymore. Suddenly it felt like everyone was mad at him. Like they thought Jasper had brought these Grounders back with him. Like he was cursed.
Then suddenly Bellamy was standing over him, full of gruff questions.
“Jasper, what do you remember?" he demanded. "How many of them were there? Did they tell you anything? Did you tell them anything? Come on, Jasper – think! You’ve got to know something. Who are these people? What do they want? Why are they killing us?!”
Bellamy ranted on like this until Octavia shoved her brother hard in the chest and yelled ‘leave him alone!’ That was the interrogation done with. Jasper hadn’t answered Bellamy once. He just lay there, shaking his head and muttering ‘I don’t know, I don’t know...’ Which was mostly the truth. He’d been largely insensible for the last four days. But if he’d chosen to be more honest with Bellamy he’d have said ‘I don’t want to know’.
Jasper had been focusing very hard on not remembering anything that had happened after the Grounders took him. But every time he shut his eyes, there were flashes. Sharp and unbearably bright memories in that fog of missing time. Brief moments when pain had wrenched him into waking. When he had seen them. Not their faces, they were smothered in rags. Their eyes though. He remembered their eyes. He remembered their voices arguing in a language he didn’t understand. He remembered a red hot knife being pressed to his skin. Sometimes it was the Grounders holding that knife and sometimes it was Clarke. The memories blurred together in his head. And it hurt to breathe. It really hurt to breathe. Especially when these flashes were making his chest hitch and his heart pound so hard it felt like it might burst free from his flesh.
“Hey easy,” said Finn, pressing his palm to Jasper’s chest, just shy of his wound. “Take it easy, buddy. We’re all here together.”
“But the Grounders…” he choked out.
“Bellamy shut the doors, alright? They can’t get in.”
Jasper nodded, clutching Finn’s sleeve. Monty still hadn’t let go of his other hand. The others were huddling together too, like frightened children waiting for a storm to pass. In one shadowy corner Jasper could hear someone crying. It terrified him when he realized it was Clarke.
A few moments later, down on the lower level of the ship, Jasper heard Bellamy opening the doors again. He heard kids protesting, but Bellamy shouted them all down. He started saying how they needed to get out there and build a wall, now. How they had to barricade the Grounders out of their camp. How they all better move their asses and do it now. Then Bellamy was marching through the ship, hauling kids to their feet, bullying them into going back outside.
“All of you!” Bellamy barked, climbing up the ladder. “I said NOW!”
Jasper heard Clarke swallowing down her tears. He heard Octavia hiss in irritation. He felt Monty and Finn’s hands slipping away. They were all heading outside to get to work. They knew what Bellamy said made sense. Jasper opened his eyes, took one more painful breath and then he struggled onto his elbows. He pawed around him for a spare shirt.
Bellamy halted at the ladder, frowning at him. "What are you doing?"
"You...you said everyone, right?" said Jasper.
Bellamy raised an eyebrow, seeming mildly impressed. Then he shook his head.
“One more day. Then we'll see about getting you back on your feet.”
Jasper nodded, falling back on his pillow. He placed a trembling hand to his chest, holding it there till he felt sure that he wasn’t having a heart attack. The spear hadn’t touched his heart, that’s what Clarke had said. So how come it felt like his heart was showing the most signs of damage?
3.
Jasper stood in front of the mirror, teasing the bandage away from his throat.
The needle in his neck had left behind a dark little ulcer circled by a purple bruise. Dr Tsing had already assured him that it wasn't infected. It was just a minor inflammation, a side effect of the radiation that had been filtered through his bloodstream. Jasper traced a finger around this new puncture wound in his skin. It was tender to touch. It burned him even. But Dr Tsing said that was ‘to be expected’.
Miller crossed the dormitory and came to stand beside him.
“That’s nasty, bro," he said wincing. "That’s going to scar.”
Jasper shrugged. He didn’t mind if saving Maya's life left a mark on him.
“It looks like a hickey,” Jasper suggested, forcing a smirk.
"You wish. Looks more like you were bitten by an irradiated vampire.”
Now it was Jasper's turn to wince. He and Monty hadn't told the others about the harvest chamber yet. They didn't want to spread a panic. If Jasper could just get a few more volunteers for President Wallace then they'd have more time to think and plan their escape. They'd already decided that Miller and Harper should be the first ones they brought into the fold. Monty had gone looking for Harper an hour ago. Jasper had promised to talk to Miller, but so far he'd been putting off the evil moment. They'd just been playing card games and goofing about and being kids again. Jasper liked horsing around with Miller. He didn't want to ruin it by letting him in on the new horrifying threat they were facing.
“A vampire's bite, you say?" said Jasper, trying to keep his tone light. "Admit it, Miller, you're jealous. You’re jealous because there are no pretty Mount Weather boys who have shown any interest in sucking on your neck.”
Miller laughed, shaking his head. "If that's your idea of foreplay, man, I don't even want to know what goes on inside that warped head of yours."
You have no idea, thought Jasper.
Suddenly his stomach lurched again. His knees buckled and he reached for the trash can. He clutched its brim and threw up the homemade cookies that Maya’s neighbor Mrs Hamilton had baked especially for him. Jasper's stomach still hadn't settled since the blood transfusion. He had practically made himself bulimic in the past few days, binging on the sweet sugary food gifted to him by the Mount Weather residents and then vomiting it all back out again. The Mountain people were so thankful for what he'd done for Maya. So grateful that they now had a willing victim offering up his neck, inviting them to drain his blood. Jasper drew a shuddering breath and then threw up again.
“Dude...are you ever going to stop puking?” Miller sighed.
Jasper pushed the can away from him and then leaned back against the frame of the bunk bed, gasping for air.
“I hope so. President Wallace says I'm not allowed to donate again till I’m better.”
Miller sat down beside him, looking at him like he was a crazy person. Jasper was getting used to his friends looking at him this way.
“You’re seriously going to let them do that to you again?"
"I have to," Jasper murmured, his throat hoarse.
Miller shook his head. "I sure hope she's worth it, man.”
"No, you don't understand," said Jasper. "It's not just for Maya...we all have to..."
Jasper raised his head just in time to see Monty entering the dorm with Harper by his side. Harper met Jasper's eyes. Her face was white as a sheet. She knew then. Monty had taken her to the vents in the art storeroom and now Harper knew what was really going on in this place. She knew that they were all going to have to start offering their necks to their vampire hosts or else risk being taken and drained by force.
This is all my fault, Jasper thought. He hadn't listen to Clarke. They’d missed their chance to escape because he’d wanted believe so badly that they were safe here. Because Jasper was a coward who would’ve given anything to feel safe again. Even if it meant walking into this gingerbread house and climbing willingly into an open cage because that cage seemed so much nicer than the scary forest they’d been lost in.
"Hey…you okay, man?" asked Miller, clamping a hand to his shoulder.
Jasper swallowed another wave of nausea, gripped the bed frame and pulled himself up.
"I have to show you something," he said, lowering his voice to a whisper.
“Show me what?” Miller’s expression suddenly darkened. “Jasper, what’s going on?”
Jasper raised a finger to his lips and then carefully mouthed the words;
“Act normal. They’re listening.”
4.
Raven brushed her fingers over the fading scar left by the Grounder’s blade.
"You were smiling," she reminded him. "It seriously freaked me out that you smiled."
"Sorry,” said Jasper. “I was drunk. I barely even felt it."
Raven looked him hard in the eyes. "Were you trying to get yourself killed?"
He shrugged. "It feels like the Grounders are going to kill us anyway, sooner or later. Some days I just wish they'd get it over with."
Raven stared at him a moment longer. Then she let her head fall onto his shoulder. Jasper leaned into her too. They were huddled up together on her bunk again. Fully clothed, it wasn't like that. Raven just needed somebody to be with her right now while Jasper needed somebody he could still be useful to. They spent most of their time together these days. They were trying their best to shut the rest of Arkadia out. They'd come up a secret knock so they didn’t have to open their doors to anyone apart from each other. Out in the halls of their camp, there were fights breaking out, there were prison breaks going wrong and there were executions set for dawn.
Jasper and Raven just tried to stay the hell away from it. They tried to block it all out.
“We could run away,” Jasper suggested, not for the first time. "We could hotwire the rover."
Raven shook her head. “I can't leave. All my equipment is here.”
Jasper nodded, frustrated yet understanding. Maybe running away wasn’t the answer. He'd tried leaving Arkadia when they'd been on lock down before. After Monty had stormed off and abandoned him in the clearing, Jasper had just vaguely planned to live by himself out by the Dropship. Live there till he starved to death or got eaten by a jaguar anyway. He hadn't expected he would last too long in the wilderness. But at least it felt like home back at the old camp. Jasper would sit by the ashes of the campfire, toasting the dead and draining his bottles. He’d had a lot of long rambling conversations with Finn. Turned out that - of all the ghosts of their fallen friends - Finn was by far the best listener.
On his third night sleeping in the Dropship, Jasper had been found by two Arkadian scouts. They’d hauled him to his feet and shook him, demanding to know why he was out here all alone. Was he working with the Grounders now? Didn't he know they were in the middle of war? Jasper had scratched at the scar on his neck. He'd wondered if this war had started over the broken truce. When his friends had killed those ice nation warriors to save him…was that how this new war had begun? Jasper had a bad feeling this was all his fault. But maybe it was just his hangover. The two scouts had quickly concluded that Jasper wasn't an enemy spy; that he was 'just that kid who went nuts in the mountain' and they'd brought him back to camp.
It turned out Jasper had missed all the drama. Turned out their old Earth Skills teacher was a raving fascist and that the good people of the Ark had voted to put him in charge. Turned out that Bellamy had wound up assisting in another mass slaughter. In the days that had followed Jasper had picked up on a few clues that Miller and Harper had started some sort of resistance effort and he tried not to feel too hurt that they hadn’t asked him to join. Even if they had asked, Jasper would've sat this one out. His revolutionary days were over. No more failed uprisings for him. He’d only bring them bad luck.
Besides Jasper felt his place was here with Raven. He had a queasy feeling this ALIE thing was bigger than any of them realized.
Raven started breathing heavily through gritted teeth. Jasper straightened.
"Is...is she here?" he asked.
Raven just glared at some empty air in the corner of the room.
"She's always here," she muttered.
Jasper swallowed. He'd been trying his best to help Raven deal with the red woman in her head. He would sit by her side, telling her everything he could remember about Finn while Raven just blinked and shuddered and asked frantically why she couldn’t remember those things too. Jasper couldn't offer any scientific solutions that she hadn't already considered herself. But when Raven had suggested trying 'sensory overload' to drive ALIE out, Jasper had come up with a few offbeat ways to aid her experiments.
"Do you wanna try shutting her out again?" he suggested.
Raven nodded weakly. "Sure. Let's try it again."
Jasper squeezed her hand, then he hopped off the bed and rigged the iPod up to the loud speakers. He selected the darkest, loudest and fastest of Maya's playlists, music full of the fiery passion that she'd kept secret in her earphones. Songs that Jasper listened to endlessly and that had made him fall in love with Maya all over again. With the music set up, he crossed the room to the bookshelf and picked out two slim volumes of poetry.
“You take Edgar Allen Poe, I’ll take Dr Seuss,” he said.
"You always give me Poe," Raven complained, but at least she was smiling now.
Jasper smiled too and hit play button, pumping the volume up to max. The two of them began pacing up and down, reading the poetry out loud, speaking super fast, raising their voices above the music. They'd been doing this shit for several days now. They would jump around the room, smash things up and scream. It was…fun actually. Like, even if they weren't trying to force an evil AI out of Raven’s consciousness, Jasper thought they should do this stuff together anyway. Just to let off steam.
During the next hour they managed to make the red woman disappear three times, if only momentarily. They were tiny victories. Seeds of hope that Raven could do it. They just had to make their little world in this room so loud that nothing could break through their force field...
...their noise wasn’t loud enough to block out the gunshot though.
They flinched at the sound and stopped their pacing, grasping each others arms. Then Jasper rushed to unplug the iPod while Raven hurried over to the nearest window. She looked out once and then she quickly turned away, her face rapidly turning pale, her expression numb.
"Lincoln?" Jasper asked hesitantly.
“They really did it,” said Raven. “They just...they shot him.”
Raven sank down on the bed, cradling her head in her hands. Jasper kept his distance from the window. He’d no desire to see any further death. He’d never really been friends with Lincoln but his heart still clenched and his stomach knotted as he thought of Octavia. His hand reached up instinctively to shield the scar on his chest and the scar on his neck felt itchy again. He wondered how long it would be now before the Grounders came to reopen those wounds.
“And they say we’re the crazy ones,” said Jasper as he sat down by Raven's side.
5.
Jasper took a few gulps of moonshine before pouring the rest over his bullet wound.
There was no point in getting drunk. The booze was a worn out habit that didn't work for him anymore. Jasper just felt the need to keep his mind occupied with the lazy chemistry of cocktail making. He’d brewed two barrels of hooch for the homecoming. But when the Sky People had shuffled back in through the gates, very few of them had drifted over to the bar. It made sense though. When your mind has just been wrenched out of heaven, it’s going to take more than a stiff drink to take the edge off. Jasper knew only too well there would be no easy remedy for a City of Light hangover.
He shifted on his stool and adjusted the tourniquet bound around his thigh. Considering that Monty was such a lousy shot, he’d put a clean hole through Jasper, not hitting anything vital. It seemed like his boy shot straight when it mattered. Bodily wounds were almost a welcome distraction for Jasper these days. When your body gets hurt at least you can see when it’s healing. At least you know when you’re getting better. Scars had never formed for the pain in his head. There were wounds there that were still bleeding. And with the chip gone, Jasper felt like that bleeding might never stop.
"Monty says that you haven't been to medical yet."
Jasper flinched at the voice, jumping up from his chair. He turned to see Clarke approaching from the far doorway. It wasn’t until then that Jasper even realized that the room had emptied. That he was sitting up alone in the dead of night again. Anyone who wasn’t being treated for injuries had gone to sleep. It always amazed Jasper how these people were still able to sleep.
"Jackson and your mom are swamped," he blurted. “Besides, I’m fine.”
He had successfully avoided Clarke since she'd returned from Polis. There had been no breathless smiles or ‘Thank God you’re ALIVE!’ hugs like they would’ve shared only a few short months ago. Now they just stared at each other with a dull recognition that they were both still here at the end of another day on the ground.
“Well I’m at a loose end,” said Clarke and it was only as she came closer that Jasper realized she was carrying a first aid kit. "So sit. I’ll take a look at your leg."
Jasper lowered himself back onto his stool. He sat in silence for a moment as Clarke cut a slit in his trousers. She sniffed and rolled her eyes when she realized that Jasper had sterilized the wound with moonshine. She began cleaning it with iodine instead. Jasper watched her apprehensively. He wondered when she was going admit that this wasn’t the real reason she’d come to corner him at the bar. Last time they had seen each other had been in the City of Light and Jasper, under ALIE's control, had been trying to block her path to the kill switch. So now Jasper was bracing himself, waiting for the anger, the blame, whatever Clarke was going to throw at him. But so far it had only been the silent treatment. That was when Jasper realized that Clarke was waiting for him to be the one to say it. She was waiting for him to break first. Which of course he did.
"I’m sorry,” Jasper blurted, the words jerking out of him, like a convulsion. “I screwed up the entire plan. I could’ve ruined everything…for everyone…”
He trailed off. His apology sounded so stupid. This was something that was far too big to simply apologize for. But then he was speaking to Clarke here. Surely if anyone knew a thing or two about trying to make impossible apologies it was her.
Clarke met his stare. She still didn’t seem mad.
"They got you on the rig," she muttered. "We should’ve suspected. We should've checked you.” She sighed, lowering her stare back to his wound. “Are you really though?"
Jasper blinked. "Am I really what?"
She hesitated, then asked him; "Are you sorry?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, though Jasper already knew. Because he’d already consider it himself. Because if it wasn’t Jasper who was responsible for ‘ruining everything for everyone’ then it had to be Clarke. It was just a matter of perspective.
"ALIE told me you wouldn't agree with me,” said Clarke. “She said you wouldn't have wanted me to hit the kill switch. She said you’d have rather stayed in the City of Light. All of you. And I still…I don’t even know how much of that was her and how much of that was you. Is what she said true, Jasper? Would you not have agreed?"
Jasper stared at Clarke, feeling incredulous over this question.
“Since when do you give a crap if I agree with your leadership choices?" he snapped, unable to help himself.
Clarke’s head jerked up again, her eyes bright and stung. "You know, Jasper, I...I can cope with you hating me. I get that! I’d hate me too if I were you. But I still need to know that I can trust you. I need to know that we're still on the same side here."
Jasper hissed in frustration. “I don’t…I don't want to hate you. I never wanted to hate you, or Monty or Bellamy either. I just…I hated what you did. I'll always hate what happened. But…I can’t carry on hating anymore. Not now that I know.”
“Know what?” asked Clarke.
“How much you hate yourself.”
Clarke held Jasper’s stare and he could tell she understood what he meant. There had been moments in the City of Light that ALIE had been fully accessing him pretty hard. And in those moments Jasper had been aware of every other mind in ALIE's matrix. He had seen right into Clarke’s consciousness. He had looked into those still bleeding wounds in her mind that nobody else sees. He had felt the weight of those lives that she’d taken, those lives that she never wanted to take. He'd felt her grief for the loved ones that she’d lost, all that love that she’d convinced herself was weakness. And Jasper knew that Clarke was lying now when she said she could cope with him hating her. The truth was she couldn't bear it. And Jasper had never even realized how a big part he'd played in Clarke leaving their camp after Mount Weather. How it was his pain more than anyone's that she'd needed to run from.
“I don’t know what I would’ve done,” Jasper admitted. “I can’t make those choices, Clarke. I can’t do what you do.” And it was true. He understood that Clarke could do things that he found unthinkable. He could never be like Clarke. He would never want to be. “I just…I just want to do whatever helps people, whatever makes things better.” His voice cracked and he was crying again. “They're all in so much pain, Clarke. So are you. I just want there to be a way to make it easier.”
While Jasper was pouring his heart out Clarke had finished taping a clean bandage to his leg. Her hand lingered. She pressed her palm to his knee. It seemed like she’d heard enough for her to believe that she could trust him, that they were on the same side. Even though there was still a part of Jasper that wanted to lash out at her, that didn't want to accept any pity or comfort from her. But even as he moved to push Clarke away…somehow he ended up clasping her hand. Clarke smiled sadly, holding onto him.
“You don’t ease pain,” she told him, squeezing his palm. “You overcome it.”
Jasper sniffed and nodded. Because he really wanted to believe her. Just like he wanted to believe Monty when he had promised that they would be happy again some day. Maybe the pain in his head would only begin to scar over if he started to believe that healing was possible.
So Jasper sat holding the hand of the girl who'd saved and ruined his life.
He hoped that all that pain that lay between them could somehow be overcome.
Ends