Jasper allowed himself to be ushered into the infirmary, wincing as he held gauze up to the gash in his forehead.
His eyes immediately caught sight of the tubes of blood that snaked up to a pipe, but he showed no reaction. There was two other patients in the room, both either asleep or unconscious, and Jasper's gaze flickered briefly over the tubing going into their chests.
Lowering himself down onto one of the beds, he let another apology rush out of his mouth – trying to excuse his clumsiness, and come across as light-hearted as possible. Maya squeezed his shoulder gently, precautionary white gloves covering her hands and a yellow smock put on hastily over her clothes.
He lay back on the bed, and leant his head back under instruction, and tried not to shudder as a bright surgical light was shone directly onto his wound during the initial examination. It felt too similar to those endless days spent in isolation, or even like some days on the ARK.
Jasper wanted sunshine and fresh air again, he realised suddenly—and that was enough to firmly remind him of his reasons for being in the infirmary.
The injection of local anaesthetic stung, but was nothing like being speared in the chest, so he didn't even flinch—just lay there motionless, his hand being held by Maya. The sensation of having a needle pulled through his skin to suture his wound back together was uncomfortable, the room silent.
He remembered back to those few days after his spearing, after he'd been dying and was then on the slow road to recovery—when there'd always been someone around to talk quietly, and even then the noise of the hustle and bustle of the camp would waft up to the top level of the drop ship. This felt clinical and cold, in comparison, and Jasper could almost feel his heart tearing in two as he reflected on vitality and excitement of life in the 100 camp—against the secure, sedated lifestyle in Mount Weather.
"Just another moment, Jasper," the doctor whose name he hadn't bothered to remember said gently, and was brought back to the present.
He wondered who had told her his name—or had he said it earlier? He almost regretted nearly knocking himself out to achieve his goal, but he could handle a bit of confusion.
When it was all done, and there was a white rectangular piece of gauze secured to his forehead along with twelve new stitches, all Jasper could feel was calm. He thanked the doctor profusely, even though the words tasted bitter in his mouth, and then he went to spring to his feet.
As expected, he swayed violently, and would have went crashing to the ground had it not been for Maya reaching out quickly to steady to him. Only half of the dizziness was faked, the rest of genuine.
Jasper looked confused at his situation, and allowed his words to slur slightly, "Maybe I should sit down for a bit… just until I get my balance back."
The doctor and Maya agreed readily, as he knew they would, and it only took a few minutes to convince them that he would be fine by himself for a short time—though he knew the doctor wouldn't be gone long, as there were other patients to see to, and even Jasper was aware of the seriousness of leaving a patient with a head injury alone.
In the end it took two emergency pages to both of their radio devices to cement their decision.
Jasper allowed himself three minutes of lying quietly on his side when the room went quiet, counting the seconds down in his head, and then he sat up cautiously. This time, when he stood, his balance was slightly better—but he did stumble several times on his way to the corner.
The vent seemed starkly obvious at the end of the room beside the heavy metal door, and the pipes of blood looked ominous—Jasper could just imagine Clarke doing this alone, as he made his way towards the vent, a vision of Clarke's face scrunched up in a familiar frown flashing into his mind.
He rubbed against the bandage on his forehead for a moment, took note of the fact that he was potentially making a huge mistake, and then glanced around for any threats. All was quiet, and the two other patients still motionless.
He had to find out the truth for himself.
Jasper took a deep breath, and then wrenched the cover off the vent, and climbed inside.
.
Clarke and Miller were playing a game of chess in one of the common rooms that they had been allowed access to, when Monty came hurrying in.
The note from earlier, and the map they'd studied carefully, was stuffed down her shirt carefully—so as to avoid detection at all costs, and Clarke felt the paper rustle silently as she turned to look at Monty with thinly veiled concern in her eyes.
"What's up, Monty?" Her voice was calm and controlled, but there was an undercurrent of tension.
From the other side of the room, some of the other members of the 100 glanced up, but were quickly nudged back to their activities by the others. Retain the semblance of normality for as long as possible. Miller raised his eyebrows at the other delinquent from his seat opposite Clarke, a pawn in his hand.
"Jasper's been taken to the infirmary—" and didn't those words just strike a cold note into Clarke's heart, "he apparently fell and hit his head in the south east corridor. When he was running to meet Maya." Monty face was worried—but his eyes shone pure terror.
She forced herself not to respond too quickly, and instead covered her mouth in shock, "Is he okay? I guess it was only a matter of time until his clumsiness caught up with him though."
Inside, all the wheels were turning in Clarke's head, and it only took a moment for her to put the pieces together. Jasper's denial, his detachment from them after the news, and then the way he'd left abruptly with an odd expression on his face.
The kid had faked the accident.
A glance with Miller confirmed that he'd put the pieces together as well, and Monty's hand twitched by his side as he spoke again, "Maya was the one who told me—said he'd tripped over his own feet somehow. He's in the infirmary now, alone, to get some rest. Apparently he wasn't too steady on his feet when he tried to leave."
Clarke didn't know whether to feel annoyed that Jasper had intentionally injured himself and put himself in danger – or relieved that the old Jasper seemed to be finally coming back. Of all the plans though…
She settled for just shaking her head slowly, an exasperated and genuine smile on her face.
Monty dropped down into a chair beside her, and Clarke patted his shoulder while she turned her attention back to the game of chess. Miller waved away the other's concern with a nod over to them—and then proceeded to capture her last bishop.
"Jasper can take care of himself," He said gruffly, "In the meantime, we have a game to win."
They continued on then, feigning interest in the intricate game of chess—but really discussing strategies under the guise of chess moves, "If you move to the left there, and go up three spaces, would you reach my king in time?"
"How long do you think it would take for game over?"
"Quickest time my knight could make it to the safe zone, behind the castle?"
"Realistically, how many pawns would be needed to take down a queen?"
.
Later, Jasper returned to them.
He was pale and shaken, but alive and undiscovered it seemed, as Maya brought him back to their dorm room—one arm wrapped around his waist.
They crowded around him, hands reaching out to brush against him gently, and the scene looked like a tribal one, with the remainder of the 100 circling around Jasper. To Clarke's distaste, the outsider didn't leave, but instead continued to stay by Jasper's side as he made his way to sit down.
Clarke carefully reached out to inspect his bandage when he was still, and no one said anything as she peeled away the gauze to reveal neat stitches and a bruise already forming. Jasper looked up to her with those big eyes of his when she smoothed the edges down and replaced the surgical tape—saying nothing.
There was silence then, as Maya seemed content to remain where she was at Jasper's side, despite the uncomfortable atmosphere in the dormitory.
"How are you feeling now, Jasper?" Miller finally asked, his tone low but neutral, and Clarke shifted beside him, quietly impatient and trying to keep from glaring at Maya.
Jasper met Miller's gaze with a levelled one of his own – a hard glint in his eyes, visible even through the thin shine of tears, "More like myself than I have in a long time. I—I don't know who I was, with my, uh, clumsiness gone. But I guess… I was due a fall, to remember that this is our life now. And—and it feels like I fell so hard."
A few of the other kids nodded around them, and Clarke swallowed past the lump in her throat.
"He hit his head really badly," Maya said then, and it was almost funny—how disconnected she was from the actual conversation.
Monty ducked his head to hide his grin, in spite of everything, and Clarke nodded, continuing on as though Maya hadn't spoken up, "It's good to have our old Jasper back." She leaned forward to pull him into a hug, and let her lips pause beside his ear, "But don't ever do anything like that again."
When she pulled back, Jasper was smiling at her with a lopsided grin, "Pot, kettle," he said softly, and then touched her bandaged forearm lightly, "Snap."
Clarke ruffled his hair roughly at that, and a few laughs rose out of the others. It almost felt like normal for a split second, as normal as it could be with them trapped under a mountain, until Jasper seemed to realise something and paled even further.
"I feel like I'm gonna throw up though," he mumbled, and leaned away from Maya towards Monty who wrapped an arm around him immediately.
She had her hand on his forehead in an instant, and while he had a slight temperature, it was nothing to be too worried about. The others all seemed to move in closer at that, tensing up as though prepared to storm out of Mount Weather at that moment, and they only settled marginally when Clarke shook her head, "You seem okay, it's probably partly to do with your head injury," and everything to do with the nightmare you just witnessed.
Jasper nodded morosely, and slumped more heavily into Monty at that—who simply sighed and looked lost for words. They all did really, just standing in a circle with dozens of feet of concrete over their heads.
"We can handle it from here," One of the other girls told Maya bluntly out of the silence, and Clarke could hear a hint of her own harshness in the tone.
Another boy spoke up then, moving forward to help Monty lever Jasper to his feet, and over to his bunk, "Yeah, we'll see you tomorrow, Maya."
"Thanks for your help."
Maya stood up slowly, and looked over at Jasper, but he just closed his eyes wearily—and Clarke could practically feel his exhaustion, "I'll check him in three hours for concussion," She told Miller, who just nodded passively and began to walk behind Maya towards the door, effectively ushering her out.
Then they gathered in close together, sitting on the ground in between Jasper's bottom bunk and another bed, while Clarke retrieved her sketchbook. She kept her voice quiet as she spoke so as Jasper could doze, but aware of the fact that he was better able to rest with the low hum of background voices—something they'd discovered during his recovery period.
"Right, here's the plan."
.
Let me know what you think – and if you want to see more.