Esme wasn't quite sure what went wrong.
One moment Jasper was fine, and the next thing she knows she's trying to calm him down from what clearly appears to be a panic attack. She had dealt with Rosalie and Alice's own panic attacks enough to know what to do, but he didn't respond to her.
In fact.
He was getting worse by the second, and she couldn't even reach him because he was right on the ceiling, looking at her like a caged animal, like he was expecting her to attack him, she has never been regarded by anyone with such terrified eyes, she knew she had to calm him down quickly when she smelt it.
Acid.
It made her hairs stand on end and her nose itch.
His blood.
-Jasper-
-Why aren't you afraid of me?
Esme's words died down the second she heard such unexpected question. The confusion and fear in his eyes, the desperation to know something, anything on the why .
Ah.
She knew what had brought this reaction.
And she felt her heart break over the sudden realization.
He was scared, of her kindness.
-Alice's not here. The coven leader's not here. The mind reader's not here. Why are you not scared? You've got no one to protec' you.- He sounded so genuinely stressed, so upset, all because she was being nice, because she wasn't showing fear, but trust.
This boy…
-Jasper… I'm not afraid because I have nothing to be afraid of.- She told as a statement of fact, her voice soft as she spoke.
He pressed himself even more against the wall.
-But 'm a vile person. People called me Major, they said I was a monster.- His words made Esme's throat close, a knot burning at the back of her throat, God, what kind of things had been said to him?
-You are not The Major, nor a bad person, not anymore, you are a free man, you are no longer obliged to hurt others for the sake of hurting them, you can make your own choices.
He didn't look at her.
-You might have done horrible things, things you cannot erase, but that doesn't mean you can't have a normal life, it doesn't mean you can't change. You have changed, I don't need to know you to know it.
Because The Major, memories or no memories, he would have never chosen to run off over a potential threat like he was doing, she was quite sure that if he had been pure evil, he would have kept those instincts.
Because even if it pained her to admit it, some people were just born evil.
Point was, he wasn't.
So far he's been the sweetest and kindest young man she's ever met.
And he had chosen to get as far from her as possible instead of attacking.
He wasn't a bad person.
The sudden sound of the oven beeping startled them both, and Esme turned around. She turned the oven off before putting on her kitchen mittens and taking out the cobbler.
The wonderful smell wafted across the air, she might not be able to eat human food, but that didn't meant she couldn't enjoy the smells.
-Would you like a piece?- She questioned as she set the baking dish on the countertop, she did make it for him, but he didn't need to know that, he gave the cobbler a longing look.
Just like Alice had said, he might not remember it, but that right there was one of his favorite dishes.
And after a moment of hesitation he was making his way down, he winced a few times, and Esme noticed the growing stain on his chest, the sweatshirt was a dark blue, but it was still light enough to allow the easy view of the dark stain.
Blood .
-You can sit there.- She told, motioning to the stool across from her. He seemed hesitant for a moment before sitting down.
Esme got a plate out of the cupboard and a spoon from the drawer, making sure the spoon wasn't from the actual-made-out-of-silver silverware. The last thing she wanted was to accidentally hurt him.
She took the vanilla ice cream from the fridge.
She cut him a generous portion of the peach cobbler before scooping a small ball of the vanilla ice cream, placing it nicely on top. His face was neutral while he watched her work, but she could almost swear his eyes were sparkling with the sheer force of his eagerness and expectation, he looked absolutely adorable, like a child at Christmas.
She slid the plate with the spoon towards him, had to bite back a smirk when he didn't even hesitate to snatch it.
-Thank you.- He whispered, Esme gave him a light smile.
He took a spoonful of it, the second he brought it to his mouth the second he stiffened.
Did it taste bad? She didn't knew much about the taste seeing that she couldn't exactly eat what she made, but for what she knew from Carlisle's co-workers her food was acceptable. And she had a nose, she could smell it, it smelt nice.
Or was it because he was a black blood? She had made sure to be mindful of what she touched and used to bake. She even took the time to wash the peaches thoroughly before using them, you never knew who or what touched them at the market.
But as far as she knew garlic was the only food to be ware of, nothing else.
-Is something wrong?- She asked worriedly.
-No.- Came the strained answer, what was wrong then? Was his injury hurting him? Was he in pain? Did he feel sick?
Still.
His next words cut off whatever other thoughts she could have come up with.
-It tastes good...- Jasper ends up conceding, he isn't sure what this reminds him of, where had he tasted it.
But it made him feel a new kind of warmth, it made his vision blur and his chest hurt.
It made him think of blonde curls and a kind smile, of guitars and orange jam.
He didn't even knew orange jam was a thing.
It was a good feeling, but it also hurt, like a hollow piece in his chest that could never be filled, because the part that filled it has been long gone.
And he has no idea what is that piece.
Esme's gaze softened.
As she looks at his face she can get an idea of what he's feeling, Emmett had made that exact same expression when she had knitted him a sweater.
Homesickness.
And she wanted nothing more but to comfort him, he deserved to know the truth, but no one could be sure whether he would be able to handle it or not.
Because at the end of the day, regardless of their opinions, truth was that the way Jasper reacted to most of the glimpses of memories led one to believe that telling him the truth might end up doing more bad than good.
What if he couldn't handle it and got hurt? It was safer to let him remember on his own accord, or answer his questions. But so far he's asked nothing aside from about his reputation as The Major, something none of them wanted him to know about.
Esme at least wanted to keep him from it so he wouldn't punish himself for something that wasn't his fault. He had just done what anyone else would have done in his place.
Survive.
He shouldn't feel bad for that, he had been shoved into a world of death and violence, the vampire wars had been merciless and much too cruel, she had heard the stories; torture, kidnapping, humiliation, raping, decapitation.
And that to mention a few, vampires that killed each other for territories, using whatever methods to instigate fear on others… he had just been part of one of the worst moments in vampire history.
And while The Major had killed thousands of humans and vampires alike regardless of gender and age, he never tortured nor did he rape, he hadn't been as inhumane as people claimed him to be.
To Esme, torture and rape were two of the most terrible things a living being could do to another, a person who did that was a person who had no humanity whatsoever, a monster of the worst kind.
He had done neither, he didn't even kill because he liked it, Alice had said so herself, he did it because he honestly had no idea there was another way, María had made him believe that the life of a vampire consisted of nothing but death and violence.
A life where only the strong survives.
Point was, he wasn't evil and he should never have to think he was.
She put the kitchen gloves back in their place.
-You can have more when you are done if you want.- She told him gently.
He gave her a short nod before starting to eat again.
She couldn't help but notice the growing stain on the shirt though.
-You alright?- She asked in concern.
-'m fine.- Jasper assured. His chest hurt quite a lot, but he couldn't care less about that when he was tasting the most wonderful thing he's tasted since the cinnamon ice cream last week.
It was so sweet and crunchy.
It made him feel all warm inside.
Like he was back in the heat of the summer wrestling with faceless and nameless people. Fishing at the river. Swimming. Breaking a horse. Shooting bottles. Shooting down a deer. Fighting with faceless people on puddles of mud. But none of which felt like hostile or unpleasant situations.
But more like warm, a comfortable kind of warmth.
He wanted more.
Meanwhile, Esme couldn't help but worry, she could smell his blood, it wasn't just a little bit, and it wasn't until he was through his third slice that Esme heard the first drop hit the marble floor.
He was bleeding.
A lot.
More than she had expected.
He stopped eating to look down at the stain, he frowned.
The sudden sound of a phone going off startled them both and Esme pulled her phone out.
Alice.
She answered.
-Alice?- Jasper's head snapped to attention at the name.
"Can I speak with him?"- The voice from the other end did not sound happy. Jasper frowned, Esme passed him the phone, he took it with some hesitation, he knew what a phone was, but he's never spoken through one.
He held the phone close to his face just like he's watched others do.
-Alice?
He heard her take a deep breath, he wasn't sure of the reason, but he had a weird deja Vu kind of feeling.
And then.
"Jasper Whitlock, you better get your ass off that stool and fix those stitches, I believe I taught you how to stitch wounds, right? You can keep eating after you have fixed yourself. Don't act as if you have the luxury to go bleeding around, have some common sense."
-Yes ma'am, 'm sorry ma'am.- The words were out before he could even think them, and how was that even possible? Since when did he even stop feeling uneasy over any trace of anger? But her anger has never bothered him to begin with.
Not really.
"Don't eat too much ice cream either, alright? I know it tastes great, but nothing is good in excess."- Why did it felt like she was hiding some kind of reminder there? Reminder for what? What did she knew? Even her voice had grown softer, he isn't quite sure of the reason, but it makes a fluttering feeling swirl in his stomach.
Ever since the cinnamon ice cream he's felt more and more interested in her, he will find himself agreeing to whatever she wants and following her around, all the previous lingering fear and anxieties towards her were gone, like they never existed.
Now all he wanted was to be closer to her, and he couldn't for the life of him understand the why.
-You don't know how ice cream tastes?- He finds himself feeling the urge to speak that out loud, and for some weird reason he feels like he can almost see her rolling her eyes at him.
"Well, no, but you get the point. Also, I got you this really weird candy, I think they are called whistle pops? They have a hole in them, which makes a whistle-like sound when you blow on them. You should see Emmett, he's been blowing his all over the place even though he really shouldn't be eating that."
Jasper can't help but smile at the fondness and amusement in Alice's voice.
And still.
-I thought you went to see Renesmee's school?
"Yeah, but the Spanish teacher was giving them out, said his wife recently opened a candy shop and gave him a giant bag to promote her store by giving them away to just about anyone."
-Oh.
"Yeah, oh. But seriously Jazz, fix those stitches, and if it hurts to reach ask Esme to help you, she knows how to sew, you can trust her, I promise. But if you don't feel comfortable I can go, or I can call Carlisle."
-No, don't come, nor call him, 'm fine.- He's quick to say, he didn't want Alice to leave whatever she was doing because of him nor for her to get Carlisle out of work because he wasn't careful.
The less he interacted with that man to begin with, the better, he's been nothing but kind, yes, but Jasper couldn't help but feel anxious over him.
"Are you sure?"
-Yes, 'm sure.- He assured, a moment of silence came from the other line and he waited patiently, sometimes Alice would have visions in the middle of a phone call, he's seen it happen before, and she would stay quiet throughout it all.
Thus.
He waited.
"Alright then, be careful, yes?" - Her voice is so soft as she speaks, so filled with… something, it makes butterflies dance in his stomach, his lips twitch as a smile threatens to break out.
Because she cares.
And that thought always makes him feel all warm and fuzzy.
-I'll be.
~
Esme tried her best to not eavesdrop, she found absolutely endearing the way Jasper's entire body language had changed the second he heard Alice's voice.
How soft his expression grew, that little smile, the way his eyes lit up, if Esme didn't knew better she would say he was completely smitten by her, but again, it was as Edward had said, that while he might not remember Alice, he still subconsciously reacted to her.
It would explain how despite the trauma he's been subjected to he was still open to interacting, while hesitant, with others, subconsciously, he felt safe with Alice, and if she let others get near him then that meant it was safe.
Point was, that he might be more interested in Alice than he himself realizes, that look on his face said it all, and Esme found it adorable to no end.
She had a strong feeling that he might not quite end up wanting to leave, because yes, it doesn't take a genius to know he's having thoughts about leaving once he gets better.
His stubbornness to get better as fast as possible alongside his habit to roam the house, as if laying out the rooms, is more than proof of it.
She hopes she's right and he ends up not leaving.
All of this would be easier if Alice were to tell him the truth, but for some reason, her daughter insisted on taking the difficult route.
Soon, the call cut and Jasper handed the phone back to Esme.
Jasper who couldn't help but frown, the place was flooding with Esme's endearment and amusement, such an odd woman.
He looked at the remaining cobbler in his plate before looking back down at his the blood stain on his chest.
-You can go, it will still be here when you are done, if you don't want to come back down I can take it to your room. If you need help with your wound you can ask me, I'm pretty good at stitching, it won't be a problem at all, if you don't want, that's alright too.- Esme said, her voice gentle as she spoke.
Jasper gave her a long look, staring right into her eyes, as if searching for something, when he didn't found it he slumped his shoulders and ducked his head.
-Then, um, if it's not much bother, could you help me with the stitchin'?- His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke. Esme smiled.
-Of course, just let me go get the first aid kit.
-There's a needle in the first drawer of the nightstand of the room I stay at, I made it with one of my claws, it works better against my skin than a regular needle.- Esme heard him say, that was something she hadn't thought about, she had almost forgotten needles didn't work on a vampire's skin.
And it also bothered her that he said that with such ease, the fact that he had apparently ripped off one of his claws, what for even? He isn't hurt his stitches before. What would he need that for?
She also noticed the wording "the room I stay at" not "my room", but that one she guessed made sense, he didn't felt comfortable in this house, he saw himself as more of a guest than a resident, again, understandable, they were complete strangers to him.
Still.
She was quick to get the first aid kit before going to his room, she found the needle right where he said it would be, it was thicker than a regular needle, but it was still quite sharp, she could tell with just one look that this needle could certainly pierce a vampire's skin.
Black bloods could pierce other vampires' skin with their claws and fangs with the same ease a knife sliced through butter, they did prey on other vampires, it was natural for their bodies to adapt to this fact.
She went back downstairs and found him still in the same position. There were three black spots on the ground where his blood was dripping at.
He looked quite unfazed over the fact that he was bleeding. He didn't seem that eager about letting her get close to him, and she didn't miss how tense he grew when she came close to him.
-Can I see?- She asked softly, for a moment, he didn't move, but then he gave her a short nod and turned on the chair, just enough to face her.
He then pulled his shirt up, there was a bandage around his torso, a growing black stain on his chest and torso, he didn't look at her as he held the hem of his shirt with his mouth, slicing the bandages off in a clean cut with a long claw.
Well, that was new, she isn't heard of him showing his claws before.
Still, careful but quick he got rid of the bandages, Esme winced in sympathy at the sight she got, his sternum held angry stitches, but at least it wasn't as big as she had expected, it was roughly the size of her hand, it made her stomach twist to remember how did that wound even came to be.
A pipe that went right through him.
She couldn't imagine the agony he must have been in.
She put the first aid kit on the countertop before bringing the trashcan close to him so he could throw the bandages in there, once that was taken care of she put on some rubber gloves, Carlisle had warned them against coming into direct contact with his blood, he could be a bit paranoid sometimes, honestly, it wasn't like she had any open wounds on her hands, but Esme still wore the gloves.
She took out some antiseptic wipes before giving him a look.
-May I?- He nodded at her, he stiffened even more if that was possible when she drew closer, but he didn't move nor made a single sound when she began wiping away at the blood, she was quick about it, trying to touch him as little as possible as she dabbed at the blood.
When she was done she grabbed the needle and the thread.
-Are you ready?- She asked, he wasn't looking at her, fingers clutching his shirt so hard his knuckles were white, and it could be her imagination, but she could swear he was trembling.
-Yes ma'am.- His voice was barely above a whisper, he sounded… afraid.
It didn't settle well with her.
-It's alright dear, I won't hurt you.- Esme felt the need to assure.
-I know.- Came the soft broken whisper, he still didn't look at her, and Esme couldn't help but be angry at the Volturi, María and those heartless nomads who had done this to him, make him so afraid of any kind of touch.
Because who could be so heartless and flat out evil to do something like this? How could anyone for that matter do something like this to another living being?
She began fixing the stitches, quick but gentle, feeling a pang of guilt whenever he flinched, his breath hitching, God, he looked like he was a second away from breaking down.
It does nothing but give her the overwhelming urge to apologize, to hold him in her arms, anything to comfort him.
-So, I heard you enjoy reading.- She comments, hoping that if she starts talking she might be able to get him to engage with her, distract himself from the pain, the fear and whatever else he might be feeling right now.
-I do.- Came the strained answer.
-What do you like to read about the most?
-...Story. History.- He corrected himself.
-You like history?- Esme questioned, she knew he liked history, "a history nerd", Alice had called him once, she said he had liked reading about that particular topic a lot.
Even now that seemed to persist.
But she wanted to hear it from him.
-I do, though some stuff ain't right, I found a book that said I'd left behind two children of the ages of 10 and 13 as a human, which is impossible, 'cause 'm theoretically speakin' 19. Or that's what Alice says, you can't be 19 and have a 13 year old.
-Well, not all books hold truth.- Esme commented, she was almost done, he had lots of scars, she noticed, all over his stomach and what she could see of his chest, no inch of skin free, it was like a cruel mosaic, some scars looking more ravenous than others.
It was a heartbreaking sight, how much pain had he been in? How many had tried to kill him?
She couldn't imagine the horrors he must have seen, the horrors he must have gone through, but at least he was safe now.
Something caught her attention, there was a particular scar on his side, faint and quite thin too, but it almost seemed to glimmer as the light hit it, as if it was recent and still not healed or even tended to properly.
It looked like his skin had been torn and it hadn't healed quite right. That… didn't look right, she would need to tell Carlisle to give it a look later, just to ease her worries.
She secured the stitching before cutting the unnecessary thread, she left the needle on a gauze on top of the counter before dabbing away some of the remaining blood with cotton balls.
Once she was done with that she got rid of the gloves before grabbing a clean gauze and pressing it against the wound, putting some tape on it to keep it in place.
-You should put gauzes too, to protect the stitches from getting pulled by the bandages when you remove them, plus, it gives you another layer of protection.- She said, he gave her a short nod. Esme pulled out some clean bandages.
-I can put those.- Esme nodded and handed him the bandages, she watched him wrap his torso with the bandage, just to be sure he was doing it right, which he was, he's been insisting on being the one to take care of his wound.
Or at least the one on his chest since the one on his back he can't reach it. Carlisle said it was a good sign that he wanted to gain some independence, Esme wondered if he was doing it more out of wanting to learn how to deal with his wound on his own in case he does end up leaving.
Still.
It's better to not coddle him, he isn't a child nor should he be treated as such, he might be a bit naive and almost too innocent at times, but as Carlisle had said, he was still a teenager, one that had been barely scratching into adulthood when turned, babying him too much might end up doing more damage than good in the long run, even more so if he never retrieves his memories.
And while helping him take care of his wounds didn't fall on that "coddling" term it was best to just let him have his freedom, if he left he would need to know how to survive on his own.
Once he was done with the bandages Esme handed him the clips to secure the bandages with.
-Thanks.
-Anytime.
~
-You know, he almost grows on you when he does that.- Rosalie said, she was sitting on the swing chair at the porch, watching Emmett, Jasper and Renesmee, they were seemingly caught in a game of seeing who could whistle louder or more with those weird lollipops.
It was, indeed, an interesting view.
Jasper had the habit to match Emmett and Renesmee's vibe a lot, she's seen them blowing bubbles together, building Legos, catching butterflies, laying on the driveway when it rains and she even caught them eating ants once, just to see if they tasted acid like Jacob had claimed.
-Told you he was cute.
Rosalie rolled her eyes at Alice's words, she was sitting by her side, staring at Jasper with that lovey dovey look that never quite seemed to leave her whenever he was around.
But there was also sadness in her gaze, longing, it made Rosalie want to smack her sometimes, because God, what was the need of making it all so complicated? She loved him, he had loved her, and he was infatuated with her now, anyone with eyes could see it, couldn't she just tell him the truth and be over with it?
Rosalie found it a bit messed up, she does had to admit that, he deserved to know the truth, she might have mixed feelings regarding telling him the truth of The Major's wrongdoings, but telling him about his relationship with Alice? What was the harm in that?
If it were her she didn't think she would be able to not tell Emmett. And she knew Alice wanted to tell him, she just didn't knew why didn't she.
She couldn't understand what was it, Alice loved him dearly, she hadn't hesitated to save him, she was always there with him, so saying he might have done something to her wasn't it, she's seen how Alice looks at him sometimes.
She was sure she hadn't been on bad terms with him.
Jasper also seeked Alice a lot, the guy would act like a friggin puppy whenever Alice praised him, he never smiled, but with Alice he would be a complete smiley dumbass.
It made Rosalie honestly wonder how had he been like with Alice when his mind had been right.
She had trouble seeing someone like The Major in a relationship.
But he was.
With Alice.
Point is, Alice loved him, and he loved her, even if he didn't realize it.
So what kept her from telling him the truth?
~
"-Y̷o̷u̷ d̷o̷n̷'t̷ n̷e̷e̷d̷ t̷o̷ h̷i̷d̷e̷ y̷o̷u̷r̷ m̷i̷n̷d̷ f̷r̷o̷m̷ m̷e̷ m̷y̷ f̷r̷i̷e̷n̷d̷, I̷ a̷l̷r̷e̷a̷d̷y̷ k̷n̷o̷w̷ a̷b̷o̷u̷t̷ l̷i̷t̷t̷l̷e̷ A̷1!(£.- T̷h̷e̷ m̷a̷n̷ w̷i̷t̷h̷ r̷e̷d̷ e̷y̷e̷s̷ s̷p̷e̷a̷k̷s̷, h̷i̷s̷ f̷i̷n̷g̷e̷r̷s̷ g̷r̷i̷p̷p̷i̷n̷g̷ h̷i̷s̷ h̷a̷i̷r̷ a̷s̷ h̷e̷ f̷o̷r̷c̷e̷s̷ h̷i̷m̷ t̷o̷ l̷o̷o̷k̷ a̷t̷ h̷i̷m̷.
"-G̷o̷ t̷o̷ h̷e̷l̷l̷."- H̷e̷ s̷n̷a̷p̷s̷, t̷h̷e̷r̷e̷'s̷ f̷i̷r̷e̷ i̷n̷ h̷i̷s̷ c̷h̷e̷s̷t̷, a̷n̷g̷e̷r̷, s̷o̷ m̷u̷c̷h̷ a̷n̷g̷e̷r̷ i̷t̷ f̷e̷e̷l̷s̷ l̷i̷k̷e̷ h̷e̷ m̷i̷g̷h̷t̷ e̷x̷p̷l̷o̷d̷e̷.
"-N̷o̷w̷, n̷o̷w̷, t̷h̷a̷t̷'s̷ n̷o̷t̷ v̷e̷r̷y̷ n̷i̷c̷e̷, a̷l̷l̷ I̷'m̷ a̷s̷k̷i̷n̷g̷ i̷s̷ f̷o̷r̷ y̷o̷u̷ t̷o̷ t̷e̷l̷l̷ m̷e̷ h̷o̷w̷ t̷o̷ g̷e̷t̷ t̷o̷ h̷e̷r̷. I̷f̷ s̷h̷e̷ c̷o̷m̷e̷s̷ w̷i̷t̷h̷ m̷e̷, y̷o̷u̷ w̷i̷l̷l̷ b̷e̷ f̷r̷e̷e̷ a̷n̷d̷ b̷y̷ h̷e̷r̷ s̷i̷d̷e̷ a̷g̷a̷i̷n̷, d̷o̷e̷s̷n̷'t̷ t̷h̷a̷t̷ m̷e̷a̷n̷ e̷v̷e̷r̷y̷o̷n̷e̷ w̷i̷n̷s̷?"- T̷h̷e̷ m̷a̷n̷ a̷s̷k̷s̷, s̷m̷i̷l̷i̷n̷g̷, a̷s̷ i̷f̷ w̷h̷a̷t̷ h̷e̷ w̷a̷s̷ s̷a̷y̷i̷n̷g̷ m̷a̷d̷e̷ a̷l̷l̷ t̷h̷e̷ s̷e̷n̷s̷e̷ i̷n̷ t̷h̷e̷ w̷o̷r̷l̷d̷.
J̷a̷s̷p̷e̷r̷ g̷l̷a̷r̷e̷d̷ a̷t̷ h̷i̷m̷.
"-P̷e̷r̷h̷a̷p̷s̷ t̷h̷a̷t̷ h̷i̷g̷h̷ h̷o̷r̷s̷e̷ y̷o̷u̷ s̷i̷t̷ o̷n̷ i̷s̷ m̷u̷c̷h̷ t̷o̷o̷ h̷i̷g̷h̷ f̷o̷r̷ y̷o̷u̷ t̷o̷ h̷e̷a̷r̷ m̷e̷, b̷u̷t̷ a̷s̷ I̷ t̷o̷l̷d̷ y̷o̷u̷. G̷o̷. T̷o̷. H̷e̷l̷l̷."- H̷e̷ s̷a̷i̷d̷, v̷o̷i̷c̷e̷ a̷s̷ c̷o̷l̷d̷ a̷s̷ i̷c̷e̷.
T̷h̷e̷ m̷a̷n̷ s̷t̷a̷r̷e̷d̷ a̷t̷ h̷i̷m̷ f̷o̷r̷ a̷ m̷o̷m̷e̷n̷t̷ l̷o̷n̷g̷e̷r̷ b̷e̷f̷o̷r̷e̷ s̷i̷g̷h̷i̷n̷g̷, r̷e̷l̷e̷a̷s̷i̷n̷g̷ h̷i̷s̷ h̷a̷i̷r̷ a̷n̷d̷ s̷t̷e̷p̷p̷i̷n̷g̷ b̷a̷c̷k̷.
"-A̷l̷r̷i̷g̷h̷t̷ t̷h̷e̷n̷, I̷ w̷i̷l̷l̷ j̷u̷s̷t̷ h̷a̷v̷e̷ t̷o̷ f̷i̷n̷d̷ a̷n̷o̷t̷h̷e̷r̷ w̷a̷y̷."- H̷e̷ s̷a̷i̷d̷, r̷e̷d̷ r̷o̷b̷e̷s̷ w̷e̷a̷v̷i̷n̷g̷ i̷n̷ t̷h̷e̷ a̷i̷r̷ a̷s̷ h̷e̷ t̷u̷r̷n̷e̷d̷ t̷o̷ l̷e̷a̷v̷e̷.
"-I̷f̷ y̷o̷u̷ s̷o̷ m̷u̷c̷h̷ a̷s̷ t̷o̷u̷c̷h̷ o̷n̷e̷ s̷i̷n̷g̷l̷e̷ h̷a̷i̷r̷ o̷n̷ h̷e̷r̷ 'm̷ g̷o̷n̷n̷a̷ t̷e̷a̷r̷ t̷h̷e̷ s̷k̷i̷n̷ o̷f̷f̷ y̷o̷u̷r̷ b̷o̷n̷e̷s̷, b̷i̷t̷, b̷y̷, b̷i̷t̷."- J̷a̷s̷p̷e̷r̷ w̷a̷r̷n̷s̷, t̷h̷e̷ f̷i̷r̷e̷ i̷n̷ h̷i̷s̷ c̷h̷e̷s̷t̷ i̷n̷t̷e̷n̷s̷i̷f̷y̷i̷n̷g̷, e̷v̷e̷n̷ m̷o̷r̷e̷ s̷o̷ a̷s̷ h̷e̷ m̷o̷v̷e̷s̷, t̷h̷e̷ p̷i̷p̷e̷ s̷h̷i̷f̷t̷i̷n̷g̷ i̷n̷s̷i̷d̷e̷ h̷i̷m̷, b̷u̷t̷ n̷o̷t̷ e̷v̷e̷n̷ t̷h̷a̷t̷ p̷a̷i̷n̷ c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷ m̷a̷k̷e̷ t̷h̷e̷ f̷i̷r̷e̷ o̷f̷ h̷i̷s̷ r̷a̷g̷e̷ w̷a̷v̷e̷r̷.
"-I̷ w̷o̷n̷'t̷ t̷o̷u̷c̷h̷ h̷e̷r̷. S̷h̷e̷'s̷ m̷u̷c̷h̷ t̷o̷o̷ i̷m̷p̷o̷r̷t̷a̷n̷t̷ t̷o̷ b̷e̷ h̷a̷r̷m̷e̷d̷. T̷h̷e̷ s̷a̷m̷e̷ c̷a̷n̷'t̷ b̷e̷ s̷a̷i̷d̷ f̷r̷o̷m̷ t̷h̷e̷ c̷o̷v̷e̷n̷ s̷h̷e̷'s̷ i̷n̷. W̷h̷o̷ k̷n̷o̷w̷s̷, I̷ m̷i̷g̷h̷t̷ j̷u̷s̷t̷ k̷i̷l̷l̷ t̷h̷e̷m̷ a̷l̷l̷ a̷n̷d̷ t̷a̷k̷e̷ h̷e̷r̷ a̷n̷d̷ t̷h̷e̷ m̷i̷n̷d̷ r̷e̷a̷d̷e̷r̷ i̷n̷, a̷s̷ h̷u̷m̷a̷n̷s̷ s̷a̷y̷, k̷i̷l̷l̷ t̷w̷o̷ b̷i̷r̷d̷s̷ w̷i̷t̷h̷ a̷ s̷t̷o̷n̷e̷."- T̷h̷e̷ m̷a̷n̷ t̷o̷l̷d̷ a̷s̷ a̷ s̷t̷a̷t̷e̷m̷e̷n̷t̷ o̷f̷ f̷a̷c̷t̷, h̷i̷s̷ s̷i̷l̷h̷o̷u̷e̷t̷t̷e̷ s̷t̷a̷r̷t̷i̷n̷g̷ t̷o̷ d̷i̷s̷a̷p̷p̷e̷a̷r̷ i̷n̷t̷o̷ t̷h̷e̷ s̷h̷a̷d̷o̷w̷s̷ a̷s̷ h̷e̷ b̷e̷g̷a̷n̷ r̷e̷t̷r̷e̷a̷t̷i̷n̷g̷.
C̷h̷a̷i̷n̷s̷ c̷l̷i̷n̷k̷e̷d̷ h̷a̷r̷s̷h̷l̷y̷ a̷s̷ J̷a̷s̷p̷e̷r̷ t̷u̷g̷g̷e̷d̷ o̷n̷ t̷h̷e̷m̷, i̷g̷n̷o̷r̷i̷n̷g̷ t̷h̷e̷ p̷a̷i̷n̷ b̷u̷r̷s̷t̷i̷n̷g̷ i̷n̷t̷o̷ h̷i̷s̷ c̷h̷e̷s̷t̷ w̷i̷t̷h̷ e̷a̷c̷h̷ m̷o̷v̷e̷m̷e̷n̷t̷.
"-D̷o̷n̷'t̷ y̷o̷u̷ f̷u̷c̷k̷i̷n̷' d̷a̷r̷e̷! I̷f̷ y̷o̷u̷ t̷o̷u̷c̷h̷ a̷n̷y̷ o̷f̷ 'e̷m̷, h̷e̷r̷, I̷ w̷i̷l̷l̷ f̷u̷c̷k̷i̷n̷' k̷i̷l̷l̷ y̷o̷u̷! D̷o̷ y̷o̷u̷ h̷e̷a̷r̷ m̷e̷?! 'm̷ g̷o̷n̷n̷a̷ m̷a̷k̷e̷ y̷o̷u̷ r̷e̷g̷r̷e̷t̷ y̷o̷u̷ e̷v̷e̷r̷ e̷v̷e̷n̷ c̷a̷m̷e̷ a̷c̷r̷o̷s̷s̷ m̷e̷! A̷0!"- H̷e̷ f̷o̷u̷g̷h̷t̷ a̷g̷a̷i̷n̷s̷t̷ t̷h̷e̷ c̷h̷a̷i̷n̷s̷, c̷u̷r̷s̷i̷n̷g̷ a̷s̷ h̷e̷ f̷a̷i̷l̷e̷d̷ t̷o̷ b̷r̷e̷a̷k̷ t̷h̷e̷m̷, d̷e̷s̷p̷e̷r̷a̷t̷i̷o̷n̷ c̷l̷a̷w̷i̷n̷g̷ u̷n̷d̷e̷r̷ h̷i̷s̷ s̷k̷i̷n̷, f̷r̷u̷s̷t̷r̷a̷t̷i̷o̷n̷, r̷a̷g̷e̷, h̷a̷t̷r̷e̷d̷.
F̷e̷a̷r̷.
"-O̷h̷ s̷h̷u̷t̷ u̷p̷ a̷l̷r̷e̷a̷d̷y̷."- C̷o̷m̷e̷s̷ t̷h̷e̷ v̷o̷i̷c̷e̷ f̷r̷o̷m̷ t̷h̷e̷ c̷o̷r̷n̷e̷r̷ o̷f̷ t̷h̷e̷ r̷o̷o̷m̷, a̷n̷o̷t̷h̷e̷r̷ m̷a̷n̷ s̷t̷a̷n̷d̷s̷ t̷h̷e̷r̷e̷, r̷e̷d̷ e̷y̷e̷s̷ a̷n̷d̷ r̷e̷d̷ r̷o̷b̷e̷s̷, b̷r̷o̷w̷n̷ h̷a̷i̷r̷ a̷n̷d̷ a̷ s̷m̷i̷r̷k̷.
J̷a̷s̷p̷e̷r̷ s̷n̷a̷r̷l̷s̷ a̷t̷ h̷i̷m̷, f̷i̷g̷h̷t̷s̷ e̷v̷e̷n̷ m̷o̷r̷e̷ a̷s̷ t̷h̷e̷ m̷a̷n̷ b̷e̷g̷i̷n̷s̷ a̷p̷p̷r̷o̷a̷c̷h̷i̷n̷g̷ w̷i̷t̷h̷ a̷ m̷u̷z̷z̷l̷e̷ a̷t̷ h̷a̷n̷d̷, b̷u̷t̷ r̷e̷g̷a̷r̷d̷l̷e̷s̷s̷ o̷f̷ h̷i̷s̷ f̷i̷g̷h̷t̷, t̷h̷e̷ m̷u̷z̷z̷l̷e̷ e̷n̷d̷s̷ u̷p̷ s̷t̷r̷a̷p̷p̷e̷d̷ b̷a̷c̷k̷ o̷n̷ h̷i̷s̷ f̷a̷c̷e̷.
H̷e̷ g̷r̷o̷w̷l̷s̷, g̷l̷a̷r̷i̷n̷g̷ a̷t̷ t̷h̷e̷ m̷a̷n̷ w̷h̷o̷ j̷u̷s̷t̷ s̷m̷i̷r̷k̷s̷ b̷e̷f̷o̷r̷e̷ y̷a̷n̷k̷i̷n̷g̷ h̷i̷s̷ h̷e̷a̷d̷ u̷p̷ b̷y̷ t̷h̷e̷ h̷a̷i̷r̷, h̷i̷s̷ f̷a̷c̷e̷ c̷o̷m̷i̷n̷g̷ j̷u̷s̷t̷ i̷n̷c̷h̷e̷s̷ f̷r̷o̷m̷ h̷i̷s̷.
"-Y̷o̷u̷ k̷n̷o̷w̷, I̷ m̷u̷s̷t̷ a̷d̷m̷i̷t̷, t̷h̷a̷t̷ f̷r̷e̷a̷k̷y̷ w̷o̷m̷a̷n̷ o̷f̷ y̷o̷u̷r̷s̷ i̷s̷n̷'t̷ h̷a̷l̷f̷ b̷a̷d̷. S̷h̷e̷ l̷o̷o̷k̷s̷ l̷i̷k̷e̷ s̷u̷c̷h̷ a̷ h̷e̷l̷p̷l̷e̷s̷s̷ l̷i̷t̷t̷l̷e̷ t̷h̷i̷n̷g̷, b̷u̷t̷ s̷h̷e̷'s̷ a̷ f̷e̷i̷s̷t̷y̷ o̷n̷e̷, e̷v̷e̷n̷ w̷h̷e̷n̷ I̷ g̷r̷a̷b̷b̷e̷d̷ h̷e̷r̷ n̷e̷c̷k̷ a̷n̷d̷ p̷r̷e̷s̷s̷e̷d̷ h̷e̷r̷ a̷g̷a̷i̷n̷s̷t̷ m̷e̷ s̷h̷e̷ d̷i̷d̷n̷'t̷ s̷o̷ m̷u̷c̷h̷ a̷s̷ f̷l̷i̷n̷c̷h̷."
J̷a̷s̷p̷e̷r̷ n̷a̷r̷r̷o̷w̷e̷d̷ h̷i̷s̷ e̷y̷e̷s̷, g̷l̷a̷r̷i̷n̷g̷ a̷t̷ t̷h̷e̷ m̷a̷n̷ o̷v̷e̷r̷ t̷h̷e̷ i̷d̷e̷a̷ o̷f̷ h̷i̷s̷ f̷i̷l̷t̷h̷y̷ h̷a̷n̷d̷s̷ b̷e̷i̷n̷g̷ a̷n̷y̷w̷h̷e̷r̷e̷ n̷e̷a̷r̷ h̷e̷r̷, t̷h̷a̷t̷ h̷e̷ h̷a̷d̷ h̷a̷d̷ t̷h̷e̷ a̷u̷d̷a̷c̷i̷t̷y̷ t̷o̷ t̷h̷r̷e̷a̷t̷e̷n̷ h̷e̷r̷ l̷i̷f̷e̷.
"-T̷e̷l̷l̷ m̷e̷ M̷a̷j̷o̷r̷, i̷s̷ s̷h̷e̷ j̷u̷s̷t̷ a̷s̷ f̷e̷i̷s̷t̷y̷ i̷n̷ b̷e̷d̷? D̷o̷ y̷o̷u̷ t̷h̷i̷n̷k̷ s̷h̷e̷ m̷i̷g̷h̷t̷ f̷i̷g̷h̷t̷ b̷a̷c̷k̷ i̷f̷ I̷ h̷o̷l̷d̷ h̷e̷r̷ d̷o̷w̷n̷ b̷y̷ t̷h̷e̷ n̷e̷c̷k̷? O̷h̷ d̷o̷n̷'t̷ g̷i̷v̷e̷ m̷e̷ t̷h̷a̷t̷ l̷o̷o̷k̷, i̷f̷ i̷t̷ m̷a̷k̷e̷s̷ y̷o̷u̷ f̷e̷e̷l̷ b̷e̷t̷t̷e̷r̷, I̷ m̷i̷g̷h̷t̷ j̷u̷s̷t̷ a̷s̷ w̷e̷l̷l̷ f̷u̷c̷k̷ h̷e̷r̷ i̷n̷f̷r̷o̷n̷t̷ o̷f̷ y̷o̷u̷. W̷o̷n̷d̷e̷r̷ w̷h̷a̷t̷ k̷i̷n̷d̷ o̷f̷ f̷a̷c̷e̷ s̷h̷e̷ m̷i̷g̷h̷t̷ d̷o̷ t̷h̷e̷n̷."
R̷e̷d̷ f̷l̷a̷s̷h̷e̷d̷ i̷n̷ J̷a̷s̷p̷e̷r̷'s̷ v̷i̷s̷i̷o̷n̷ a̷n̷d̷ h̷e̷ l̷u̷n̷g̷e̷d̷ f̷o̷r̷w̷a̷r̷d̷, s̷l̷a̷m̷m̷i̷n̷g̷ h̷i̷s̷ h̷e̷a̷d̷ r̷i̷g̷h̷t̷ i̷n̷t̷o̷ t̷h̷e̷ m̷a̷n̷'s̷ j̷a̷w̷, a̷ s̷i̷c̷k̷e̷n̷i̷n̷g̷ c̷r̷a̷c̷k̷ e̷c̷h̷o̷i̷n̷g̷ i̷n̷ t̷h̷e̷ p̷l̷a̷c̷e̷, t̷h̷e̷ f̷o̷r̷c̷e̷ o̷f̷ t̷h̷e̷ i̷m̷p̷a̷c̷t̷ s̷e̷n̷t̷ h̷i̷m̷ c̷r̷a̷s̷h̷i̷n̷g̷ t̷o̷ t̷h̷e̷ g̷r̷o̷u̷n̷d̷.
J̷a̷s̷p̷e̷r̷ s̷n̷a̷r̷l̷e̷d̷ a̷t̷ h̷i̷m̷, f̷i̷g̷h̷t̷i̷n̷g̷ a̷n̷d̷ t̷w̷i̷s̷t̷i̷n̷g̷ a̷r̷o̷u̷n̷d̷, n̷o̷ p̷a̷i̷n̷ r̷e̷g̷i̷s̷t̷e̷r̷i̷n̷g̷ a̷s̷ t̷h̷e̷ f̷i̷r̷e̷ c̷o̷n̷s̷u̷m̷e̷d̷ i̷t̷ a̷l̷l̷ i̷n̷s̷i̷d̷e̷ h̷i̷m̷, r̷a̷g̷e̷ b̷e̷i̷n̷g̷ t̷h̷e̷ o̷n̷l̷y̷ t̷h̷i̷n̷g̷ h̷e̷ c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷ f̷o̷c̷u̷s̷ o̷n̷, a̷c̷i̷d̷ f̷i̷l̷l̷e̷d̷ t̷h̷e̷ a̷i̷r̷, b̷u̷t̷ h̷e̷ c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷ c̷a̷r̷e̷ l̷e̷s̷s̷.
B̷e̷c̷a̷u̷s̷e̷ h̷e̷ h̷a̷d̷ t̷o̷ p̷r̷o̷t̷e̷c̷t̷ h̷e̷r̷, h̷e̷ h̷a̷d̷ t̷o̷ p̷r̷o̷t̷e̷c̷t̷ h̷e̷r̷, t̷h̷e̷y̷ k̷n̷e̷w̷, t̷h̷e̷y̷ w̷e̷r̷e̷ c̷o̷m̷i̷n̷g̷ f̷o̷r̷ h̷e̷r̷, t̷h̷e̷y̷ w̷o̷u̷l̷d̷ h̷u̷r̷t̷ h̷e̷r̷ a̷n̷d̷ h̷e̷ w̷a̷s̷n̷'t̷ t̷h̷e̷r̷e̷ t̷o̷ p̷r̷o̷t̷e̷c̷t̷ h̷e̷r̷.
H̷e̷ h̷a̷d̷ t̷o̷ p̷r̷o̷t̷e̷c̷t̷ h̷e̷r̷! B̷u̷t̷ h̷e̷ c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷n̷'t̷ g̷e̷t̷ o̷u̷t̷, o̷u̷t̷ o̷u̷t̷ o̷u̷t̷! H̷e̷ h̷a̷d̷ t̷o̷ p̷r̷o̷t̷e̷c̷t̷ h̷e̷r̷!"
A/N: I don't remember how did the "killing two birds with a stone" saying was worded, hope I got it right, in my defense, in Spanish it's not a stone, it's a bullet what kills the birds XD