Disclaimer:I do not own American Dragon: Jake long I just write about it I only own the plotlines of my works as well as any character's I come up with. I.E. Persons, places or things considered non canon. I'd love to hear about any inspiration that may come your way, should you find it in my work.
Rose tried to sooth Jake but honestly felt as if there was nothing more she could do. She had no idea in what way the muzzle was affecting him. Her knowledge of dragons could only take her so far. Rose sighed and examined the heavy lock trying to find some way of removing it.
"No, don't bother." Came the weak and raspy response.
"You can talk?" Rose inquired, severely taken aback.
"Yah, I'd rather not- this thing…
It's a nightmare." Jake wept in a barely audible whisper.
"Rose… just- do me a favor, go away for a bit, I need some space."
Rose sat, hesitant, but distanced herself from him anyways. If Jake wanted his space there was probably a very good reason he'd asked her to leave. Curling up in the bed of straw that she had made for herself earlier, Rose tried putting her thoughts on something positive but eventually came to the slow and painful realization that there was nothing positive to think about. At least not anything that couldn't be fouled up in some action, shape, or form.
Rose sobbed quietly to herself. Only rarely did she let a tear slip, and when she did a trail of torment and despair almost always followed closely in its wake. She tried to stop herself, tried to wrap her thoughts around something dear and close to her. But it wouldn't work, not this time…. Rose shut her eyes in a vain attempt to break away from the pain. Only coming face to face with a line of memories far too deep to follow.
She didn't need to remember that… didn't want to, But had to anyways. The Huntsclan made sure of that. Rose swore they counted… Each and every time she cried, every drop of pain welled up in her eyes. The torture didn't stop until every drop of fear was wrung clean. The further back Rose willed herself to remember the more facts she dredged up from the shadows the closer the answers seemed to become.
Rose had always considered herself lucky. The Huntsmaster had "hand-picked her". From what little information she'd managed too hack out of the Huntsclans mainframe, told her. They all called her lucky, even after the torture. They didn't know about that… That was until she exploded in front of them, and even then she was never sure if they even believed her. Rose smiled, a quivering sardonic smile. As she remembered just how hard she'd hid the Huntsclans abuse from Jake.
It didn't matter how much she'd spared Jake's life, the Huntsclan was uncaring. Her uncle was uncaring! He'd never spare her the same courtesy and in fact never did as evident by the ceaseless pain. All for some reason she could never attain, never sure why someone cried, until this moment, amidst what could be her final days, alongside someone she'd fought and gave it all for. At least that's what she thought.
Jake closed his eyes, a faint voice in the back of his head telling him he'd rather be dead. Nothing could be worse then this. He gurgled softly. The monster, as he'd nicknamed his tormenting friend, pressed agonizingly hard into his jaws which felt like a million tiny spikes were forcing there way out to the other side. Jake breathed deeply and willed himself not to scream, but found his willpower was quickly leaving him behind.