Wylan

Later in his life, if Wylan ever had to recap the events that had occured, Wylan was fully prepared to tell his grandchildren/children/friend's children/sad drunk guy (really it depended on how his life panned out) that the plan Sergie, Matthias and himself had made was a really fucking bad plan.

Emphasis on the 'really' 'fucking' and 'bad'.

(And maybe italicized and bolded.)

As Wylan stared at the hell-house he had grown up in, he reflected on whether or not Jesper was currently looking at a five year jail sentence if he got caught by his father, and if Wylan would have the guts to break him out of jail.

He had also never been told who the random screaming had been from, only that Kaz was one of the screamers (the really really high-pitched screams, Matthias told him grinning, were from Kaz), and that they were completely intentional.

"Are you ready?" Sergie asked him, staring up at the trees and signaling something to the shadow that hung from there. "We have to go soon."
Wylan took a deep breath and looked at the house that had caused him so much fear - and anger, and hatred - as a child. "Yeah," Wylan said softly. "I'm ready to go. You'll be on the other end?" The comms he had been given hung uncomfortably in his ear, even though Matthias and Sergie both assured him that it was on correctly.

Sergie nodded his assent.

"Then I'm ready," Wylan answered. Climbing back onto the pile of mattresses and blankets he had landed on, he looked at the walls and tried to find any way to climb back into his room. The novelty of trying to figure out a way back to his godforsaken room after trying for so long to escape it didn't evade him.

Matthias snorted. "Do you want a boost?" the blonde giant asked, and Wylan shook his head as he found a place to start.

"I think I'm good," Wylan responded and grabbed a brick area. Slowly, he started climbing up the side of the house. Can't believe I'm trying to get back into this room after all the time I spent trying to get out, he grumbled to himself. "Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck," Wylan muttered as he remembered the time he had had to climb the elevator cable. At least this time, the bottom was either Matthias' arms or a heap of mattresses and blankets that had already broken his fall one time before.

Painstakingly, his fingers found broken edges to the bricks, and he pulled himself up the wall. Feet carefully positioned, Wylan winced and at last his fingers clutched the window ledge he had jumped off of not ten minutes ago.

Gaaaaah, he thought as his arm muscles screamed in protest. Jesus take me.

Arms burning, he pushed against the window ledge and pulled himself up, grasping the inside of his bedroom desperately. Climbing in awkwardly, he let out a relieved sigh as he finally spilled back into the room.

It was odd. Almost like he'd never left, but he could still feel the kiss of the cool night against his arms.

"I'm back up!" he said, poking his head through the window at a clearly terrified Sergie. Him and Matthias nodded, before the former left to go enact the second part of the plan.

Matthias adjusted his jaw. "I'll be waiting here," he told Wylan and silently Wylan mouthed a thank you to him.

Turning around, Wylan headed for the door and cursed as it proved as locked as it had always been. "Goddammit," he muttered as he tried to find the formula from before. "This is going to have to do."

Mixing it some more, he carefully examined the contents. If he wasted the precious (hopefully?) acid, he'd have to fall out the window again and get Matthias' gun. Or try to catch the gun as Matthias threw it through the window, and Wylan was a fan of neither option.

"I think it's alright," Wylan murmured to himself as he finished mixing. Peeking through the lock, he carefully poured the liquid right into the empty hole and watched as it slowly seeped through the entire lock mechanism.

A quiet burning sound, and then -

Wylan clutched the door knob, twisted, and pulled the door open.

#

Jesper

The door to his room was locked. Jesper tugged at the knob desperately but it refused to give way. "Shit," Jesper cursed under his breath. "Inej, how much do you remember from Kaz's lockpicking classes?"
Inej's eyes were dark, and she looked around them with worry clear in her eyes. "Nothing." she said honestly. "None of us paid attention to him when he taught us how to pick locks, remember?"
Jesper let out another series of cusses. "Why didn't we pay attention again?" he asked, twisting his body to the side. Bracing himself, he rammed himself against the thicker part of the door and tried to break through the solid wood.

Stubbornly, the door stayed shut. Fuck you too my friend, Jesper informed the door.

"Maybe we can call for Wylan?" Inej asked helplessly, kicking the door. A loud bang sounded, and Jesper jumped reflexively.

"Too loud," he answered. "This isn't working." Wylan was on the other side of his door, Jesper thought. His sunshine was so close. He just needed to get through this door. "It's probably soundproof, too."
Scowling, Jesper kicked the door himself. And again. And again.

"Will you stop this infernal racket?!"

Jesper and Inej froze in horror and looked at the solid wood door.

A loud click heard, and Jesper shot Inej a terrified look even as the door was beginning to swing open. "Run?" he hissed, but it was too late.

Because Jan Van Eck, clad in a nightgown and a little sleeping hat, was on the other side of the door.

#

The first thing Jesper noticed was that Jan Van Eck was shorter than he had expected, and he had to change the angle his head was pointing at pretty dramatically so he could look the man in the eye. Jan Van Eck was probably a grand total of three inches taller than his son, and judging from the fact that his son was approximately a foot and a half shorter than Jesper, it was still pretty damn short.

Secondly, Jesper was disgruntled at the obvious physical resemblances between Jan Van Eck and his sunshine. The genes were there - red hair, blue eyes, narrow figure - yet there was an obvious difference between son and father. Wylan's cheeks were permanently red-tinged, and his eyes constantly displayed the emotions inside of him ridiculously clearly, no matter how hard he tried to disguise them.

Wylan's father's eyes were ice-cold, narrow, and very very displeased.

"So you're Wylan's friend?" the man asked, arching a gray-tinged eyebrow. "Just as idiotic as my son, I see."

Jesper ground his teeth. "Where's Wylan?"

"In his room," Jan Van Eck replied smoothly. "Where he'll stay. I advise you to leave these premises before I call the authorities on you, young man."

Jesper chanced a look to his right and noticed that Inej had disappeared. He held back a grin. "How'bout I call the authorities on you for kidnapping and holding your own son against his will?" Jesper asked, taking a step towards Wylan's father. "And then we can see how much trouble I get in."
Van Eck laughed coldly, and Jesper tried not to shudder. His laugh - it sounded like somebody had taken Wylan's laughter and froze it in a refrigerator for a while. "This city won't do anything to me," the man said softly, his voice menacing. Jesper thought of an eight-year old Wylan, staring at his father terrified. Blood rushed through his head and Jesper compared the distance between them.

I could knock him out with a punch. I'm stronger than him.

"The government and I have a deal," Van Eck said, voice growing with every word. "Our government will sooner throw Wylan into jail for being a pathetic faggot-"
Jesper saw red. He pulled his arm back - felt the muscles strain, felt his own mouth twist into furious cold marble - tightened his fingers into a fist - motherfucker - and smashed it against Jan Van Eck's nose.

Wylan's father fell with a bang. Jesper felt a vicious satisfaction as his head hit the cold marble floors, making no attempt to break the old man's fall.

That had been for his sunshine.

"So did you knock him out, or did I?" Jesper heard. Raising his head, he raised his eyebrows to see Inej standing behind him, a frying pan in her hands positioned as if she had just hit him.

Jesper shrugged, the red slowly fading away. "Team effort?"

"Why not."

A/N: One more!