OUTBREAK: ZERO is a semi post-apocalyptic pandemic roleplay set in the fictional city of Lethford, USA. Current season: Winter, 20/21.
March 2020. The world is in pandemonium as one month ago, GHNv-20 was confirmed, five months after the beginning of norovirus season. The number of the infected are in the higher hundred thousands, and the death toll is at an estimated 250,000, with about seventy percent of the rest of the population experiencing mild to moderate illnesses connected to the S. pyogenes bacteria.
The fear of the unknown has caused mass hysteria and panic.
In an attempt to provide a semblance of safety and control, military personnel patrol the streets, even here in Lethford City, and the police force is trying to keep up with the rising street violence, assault, and theft.
Welcome to OUTBREAK: zero. Will you survive?
HAYANA
SITE OWNER + HEAD ADMINISTRATOR
Hi! I'm Haya. I'm pretty much your girl for everything! If you have any questions regarding our plot, membergroups, etc. don't hesitate to ask me. I'm also in charge of coding, graphics, anything skin related, and advertising/affiliates.
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ADDI
ADMINISTRATOR
Hey! I'm Addi. Hit me up if you need help with anything. I'm always for plotting so don't be shy. I like coffee, booze, and working out. I'm back from a long hiatus the dead so if you need anything, best ask the others until I get back into the groove of things!
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FINNLEY
GLOBAL MODERATOR
Hi hello! My name is Finnley, or Finn, call whichever and I'll be there for you (yes like the FRIENDS theme song). I am in charge of the claims and helping with miscellaneous things. Let me know if you have any questions!
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outbreak
/ˈaʊtbreɪk/ zero /ˈzɪərəʊ/
a sudden occurrence of something unwelcome, such as war or disease. number, no quantity or number; nought; the figure 0.
It had been over a day since the riots at the hospital. Ezra found herself holed away in her bedroom, the bed messy yet unused. She was sitting in her office chair, staring out the window at the street below. Though she had showered and did her best to doctor the cuts and bruises, she still felt like she could feel the blood on her hands. The slice in her hand from the shard of broken glass she'd held was her biggest concern - it was almost deep enough that she wondered if she should return to the hospital for stitches. But returning to the hospital felt like a horrible idea - the thought of seeing it made her feel jumpy. And she was pretty certain it would be a nightmare getting inside and seen, if she even could.
Not to mention, of course, that she had killed a man right outside the hospital walls, and there was a chance she'd been caught on camera - then of course Isobel had also been with her. The woman she'd been interviewing. Ezra knew logically that she'd done what she had in self-defense. That there probably wasn't a court in the world that would convict her of murder. But it didn't stop her from feeling like a criminal on the run. Like she had to look over her shoulder. In addition to that, she hadn't slept in over twenty four hours - because every time she closed her eyes she saw the man, lying on the ground. And the blood.
Letting out a rough sigh of frustration, Ezra shot up from her chair and paced across her room to the other window, moving the curtains so she could peek outside. Another part of her was worried that the man might have friends. What if other people had seen what happened? What if someone came after her for killing their friend?
She had to get out. Of course it took her until she was down in the parking garage to remember that she didn't have a vehicle. Because her bike was still at the shop. At Jasper's. Hesitating as she pulled on her leather biking jacket, Ezra let herself think about him for a few moments. The date they had planned. Sighing again, Ezra left the garage and started walking down the street, unable to stop herself from glancing over her shoulder every couple of minutes. Too many times she had followed people without them knowing - she knew how easy it was to go undetected if you really tried. She felt restless, on edge.
It wasn't until she was standing outside that she realized she had always been heading for the shop. The sun had just neared the end of it's course, and darkness was closing in. Ezra wasn't sure when it had started getting dark out - she didn't think she'd been walking that long, but then again the shop wasn't exactly close to her apartment. The garage bays were closed - there were no lights on that she could see, even though the bottom floor windows were boarded up and she wasn't sure what time it was because her phone was conveniently left at home in her thoughtlessness. She took a few steps forward, and realized that if she went knocking on Jasper's door this late at night, with bruises on her neck and a cut up hand that he might get the wrong idea about what was going on. And she wasn't sure she could explain things without letting the emotions get to her - which was the whole point of the walk. To get away from her thoughts.
She turned to leave, and as she did a security light above the office door suddenly flicked on - even in the early evening darkness, it lit up the small area in front of the door, and her. So clearly it wasn't yet nine o'clock. "Shit." She grumbled, scanning the building for a moment before turning away. Maybe it didn't wake him up, and she could get out of there before she embarrassed herself.
The riots were not something that he was ready for. Sure he had heard talk around that something might be happening, but his heads up was when he had people banging on his garage door to be hidden. Now, the people he had let in were the ones who ran the moment things really took a downturn. When opening fire on innocent people had started and what they thought would just be a raid to get supplies to those who were denied help had turned into something completely terrifying. He had sheltered a lot. To the point that it was uncomfortable with just how many people he had in the shop. This was supposed to be a safe place for one or two people at a time. Not for a crowd. Especially not during the time where there was a deadly outbreak as well.
As soon as it was safe to do so, he started sending people out. Small groups until there were no more left. Thanking the heavens that the majority had kept the place clean, thanking him for helping them. He went about sanitizing everything. He did not want to get sick, nor did he want it lingering on things to get other sick. As he cleaned and came across the bike parked in his garage, he thought about the pistol that was Ezra. The little blonde who he had been texting now for a few days, trying to nail down a time to take her on that date that she had said he could take her on. Obviously they hadn’t agreed on something just yet and with everything that had happened the past twenty four hours, he was glad that they hadn’t made plans. She didn’t need to see what he was up to. Not yet.
He was moving to another surface in the office, and was making a mental note to text her and check on her. The idea that she could have been out during that made his chest tight, and he didn’t like the feeling. So he focused on scrubbing down the desk in front of him. No, she was probably at home and safe. Watching from her local new station or listening to the radio from the safety of her office or her home, right? He found himself scrubbing the desk a bit too hard and immediately let up. Taking a shaky breath he finished wiping it down and that was the last place that needed to be cleaned. Which meant he now needed to shower himself and get into some clean clothes.
He caught a look at the time and didn’t even realize that they were coming up on the mandatory shut down of time. He let out a small groan, it was always off for way too long in his opinion. He gathered his battery powered fan, a few candles, lit them around his room before he jumped into the shower. He was towel drying his hair when he heard a noise, the sweat pants hanging on his hips moved as he made his way down the stairs to the office and looked on the CCTV screen, to see a movement outside his door front. “Dammit, I just got everything clean.” Jasper said until he suddenly recognized the blonde head that seemed to be turning away to leave.
He immediately moved to the door, towel draped over his bare shoulders as he opened the door. “Little one?” He called out to her retreating form. “What are you doing here? Come inside.” He had almost commanded her, but he meant it because it was past curfew which meant that patrol would be out any second. He opened the door and made space for her to enter his office. If she was to enter, he’d close and lock the door behind them.
Ezra froze, feeling ice forming in her chest - a certain tightness that told her she was on the verge of tears. As if to enforce this sign, she felt her eyes begin to burn. She hadn't felt that constriction in her throat for a very long time - it usually took a lot more than a few words to make her tear up. She barely knew Jasper, but the concern in his tone made her want to turn and run into his arms. She was almost certain that if she did, he'd likely hold her for at least a moment.
“What are you doing here? Come inside.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she felt a tear manage to escape and run down her cheek. Almost as if the fact of that single tear made her angry, she roughly wiped her face and turned around, hoping that he didn't catch the action and couldn't see her face well enough to see the glassiness of her eyes. Of course, when she caught sight of him - shirtless, torso curving like smooth stone into his hips - she couldn't help but stare. It wasn't as if Ezra hadn't encountered shirtless men before, but she was struggling to think of any past partner that was quite as attractive as the man standing before her.
The distraction was all she needed to collect herself - she wasn't blubbering, at least not yet. And if she had it her way, she wasn't going to be. "Funny story." She quipped, striding towards him. "I wanted to come check on the bike, and I guess I didn't realize how much longer walking takes." Ezra hoped the 'I'm helpless' smile she flashed his way was convincing enough, stepping into the room so that he could close and lock the door. Ezra distracted herself from staring at him by looking around the office they were in, slowly turning until she was facing him again.
A flash of pain in her hand made her realize that she'd crossed her arms over her torso, and was squeezing her hands into fists so hard that she'd actually hurt the bandaged hand a little. The shrinking body language definitely didn't convey the same emotions she was putting off, so she dropped her hands, though her arms felt stiff and awkward at her sides. Why was she so nervous? Sure, Jasper was shirtless right in front of her, so that might have a little to do with it. But she'd been with men before, and she'd never felt so antsy around any of them. It was probably the fact that he was going to eventually notice the bruises, the bandaged hand, and he was going to want to know what happened. He was going to ask questions.
Before she could picture the man's blood on her hands, Ezra took a deep breath and forced herself to think of anything else. Luckily for her, there was a half naked man in the room with her. "I realized how late it was when I got here, so I was just going to come back tomorrow." She said casually, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Even though she recognized her nervous habits like she did anyone else's, she couldn't stop herself from doing them. Already, she was feeling the urge to shield herself by crossing her arms again, but she forced them to stay at her sides.
She hesitated too long. At least for his liking. He almost spoke up again, maybe she didn’t hear him. But she had stopped, so she heard something. In his mind, with her hand movements before she turned around, he knew something wasn’t right. He wasn’t dull. He knew that she was trying to collect herself before she turned to face him. Though he could not help the small smirk that lifted the corner of his mouth as she stared at his chest. He hadn’t really thought that through when he opened the door, but he was glad that he hadn’t. It was nice to see her eyes running over him.
”I wanted to come check on the bike, and I guess I didn't realize how much longer walking takes.”
His brow quirked at her as she slipped past him and into the office. The light was low and he was looking over her. Her body language was throwing off all kinds of warning signals. Her voice was chipper and smooth. He didn’t know which one was lying for a moment as he stood there, mirroring her pose and crossing his arms over his large chest. He was running his eyes over her a second time when he noticed. The bandage on her hand. His immediate response was to move forward, but after a step he stopped. She seemed jumpy as it was and the last thing he wanted to do was cause her to run.
But when his eyes traveled back up her neck and face, he saw much worse things marking her skin. Bruises. Immediately his blood ran hot and his arms flexed as he tried his best to keep his hands under his arms. “Ezra, please tell me you were not out during all of this...” his tone was low, his blue eyes staring at her from across the office as she went on to say something about returning tomorrow. His head immediately shaking, his blonde hair still damp, smacked his shoulders as he did so. “You aren’t going anywhere at this time. Curfew is in effect and the power is about to go out. And after everything...” He didn’t even want to continue the sentence as he looked her over again.
Oh heaven help whoever did this to her. He couldn’t stop himself anymore, and he came forward. His large hands slipping over her shoulders and pulling her to his chest, holding her against him without locking her there. Allowing her to pull away if needed. But oh dear god, he didn’t want to see what was marking her skin. He knew that once he invited her deeper into his apartment, where the lighting was a bit better, he knew it would be much worse than what he could see in this low light.
She knew he was looking her over, trying to figure out why she was really here - did she even know why she was really here? Ezra had let her mind take her wherever, and yet it had brought her to Jasper. Somewhere, though she didn't want to admit it, in her mind she knew that he would comfort her if she just let him do so. Even still, and stubbornly so, she insisted on pretending like she didn't look like she'd just gotten out of the hospital after a bad car wreck, trying to tuck her hand out of sight. Unfortunately, she was a little too late in that action.
“Ezra, please tell me you were not out during all of this...”
Those words let her know he'd finally noticed the bruises and the bandaged hand. The fact that he'd used her name, rather than the nickname he'd chosen for her, let her know that he wasn't happy with what he saw. "It's not as bad as it looks." She said quickly, as if to reassure him. "I mean, I wasn't in the thick of it." No, she hadn't been where the shooting was. Hadn't been in the fray of it all. No, but she had been tormented. Trapped. Attacked. She'd had to do something she'd never done before in order to survive. As if on que, she pictured the man who'd attacked her and Isobel - the feel of the glass shard biting her skin as she jammed it into his flesh. The blood. How still he'd gone, so quickly.
Ezra couldn't look him in the eye, staring at his mouth instead as he carried on, refusing to let her head back out. "I can't just take over your space like that. I'll be fine, really." She was saying, trying to insist. She looked up into his eyes, seeing the blatant emotion there. Just as her eyes began to burn, surprising her, he was closing the distance between them. Her first thought was to back away, or to put distance between them by raising a hand. Instead, she let him pull her into his chest.
He was warm - and so much larger than her that it felt like she was enveloped in that warmth. At first she was tense against him, but as the heat built in her face, and her eyes began to brim with tears, she leaned into him slowly. Ezra felt her heart hammering in her chest - torn between being distracted by his bare skin against her and the chaotic jumble of her thoughts. Her shoulders began to shake under his touch, and that was the last straw. Ezra felt the exhaustion and the turmoil that she'd been experiencing since she'd gotten home from the hospital come crashing down on her head, and she uncharacteristically clung to Jasper as if he was the only thing keeping her afloat. Hooking her arms around his neck, she hugged him to her tightly, her face buried partially in his neck and partially in the towel still draped over his shoulders. A silent sob shook her entire body.
She didn't have room to feel embarrassed with her bare display of distress, too overwhelmed to even consider that she'd only known Jasper for a little while. Ezra wasn't one who needed comforting often - she'd learned young that sometimes there was just no one to comfort you. So she was used to sucking it up - used to brushing her feelings aside to focus on the task on hand. But she was exhausted, and a little over twenty four hours ago her hands had been covered in someone else's blood. Maybe that trauma afforded her a pass on being tough, just once.
”It's not as bad as it looks. I mean, I wasn't in the thick of it.”
Which meant one thing. It was worse than it looked right now. And that the dim lights hadn’t even begun to show him the damage that was on her skin. His hands tightened to the point that he wouldn’t be surprised if his nails broke skin on his palm. He knew that ‘wasn’t in the thick of it’ only meant that she wasn’t in City Hall or the hospital. Maybe? Those seemed to be the worse hit, the police station, while it was still part of it, had less civilians and it seemed that was more of a department thing than anything else. At least what he had heard and seen through some of the news reporting. And he heard it first hand from the ones who left the moment it got out of control.
“ I can't just take over your space like that. I'll be fine, really.”
But he was already moving forward and wrapping her against him. She stiffened, but didn’t move away and he took that as enough of an okay to continue his hold, tightening it a little as her body leaned into him. “Nonsense, you can invade my space. This is a safe space.” He was used to this, in the sense of offering a safe haven. Normally they’d come to him and the secret room in the back was made up with a few sitting/sleeping places, depending on how you used them. Even stocked with some basics to eat and a few other supplies one might need while hiding out. And his building was made of metal, meaning that they were secured and hidden from prying eyes or break ins. The weakest point would be someone ripping down the shutters to the office. But he had means to keep others away from there as well.
A small movement started, and he looked down at the top of her head as he suddenly took in her shoulders shaking. Her body trembling in his arms. And that was when it clicked. She was crying. Her hands moved to wrap her arms around his neck and his heart crushed a bit at the feeling. This tough little firecracker who was not intimidated by him was having a moment of weakness and he felt the strongest urge to protect her. And he’d do just that. With his arms already around her, he leaned down just enough to wrap them around the small of her waist and pop her off her feet, moving to carry her upstairs to his apartment. If she struggled, he’d at least try and tuck her and lead her to his room. He secured the door to the stairs behind him and moved them slowly up the stairs.
The lighting in his room was brighter, but the bulbs gave off a warm glow instead of harsh hospital lighting. His hand on her back made small circles to try and soothe her. “Little one, let me see.” He tried his best to have her look to him. He wanted to see her, her injuries that he was sure she was trying to down play for him.
“Nonsense, you can invade my space. This is a safe space.”
For whatever reason, as she held onto him and he spoke those words, it only made her want to cry harder. She wasn't sure if she was so upset because of what had happened, or because Jasper was being so nice. It just wasn't something that strangers often did for her, and though obviously they had chemistry and had talked a few times, Jasper was still essentially a stranger to her. So for him to be offering her comfort like this, without judgement - well, it felt like her heart was shattering in her chest. Though she wouldn't admit it, she'd been petrified at the hospital and throughout the entire encounter with the thug who had attacked her. She thought she was going to die, and she'd never really felt fear like that before. And she was still frightened - frightened that the police were going to break her door down and arrest her for murder, afraid that the thug's friends would come to hunt her down. She hadn't slept since the incident, and though she was exhausted, she didn't see herself feeling comfortable enough to sleep anytime soon.
Of course, when his hold on her changed and he lifted her like he was lifting a grocery bag - effortlessly, that is - Ezra took in a sharp breath of surprise. She'd never thought that it was romantic to let a man carry you around - to her, it always seemed pathetic. As if the woman were incapable of working her own legs. But now, with his grip around her waist and his warmth against her body, she realized it wasn't much about control and more about comfort. Automatically, her legs came up and hooked around him to secure herself, and she kept her face pressed into the curve of his shoulder, already feeling the sobs slowly fade away. Crying never had lasted long for her - the rare times she did cry, she worked her way through it and put it behind her as quickly as possible. Crying in front of other people had always made her uncomfortable - and it would more than like continue to do so.
When he brought her into the better light, she closed her eyes again, tightening her hold on him. His hand on her back soothed her ruffled feathers, easing the embarrassment that had already begun to work it's way into her mind.
“Little one, let me see.”
Sniffling, she let out a shuddering sigh and leaned back from him, her grip around his neck loosening as her hands slid to either of his shoulders. She was certain her face was reddened from crying, and she could still feel tears brimming in her gaze. The embarrassment found its way back in, and she couldn't meet his gaze. Instead, Ezra focused on his mouth, her brows drawn tightly together. "I'm sorry." The words came out automatically, her voice rough and thick with tears still. She wasn't even exactly sure what she was apologizing for - everything, really. Showing up so late, crying all over his freshly cleaned skin and towel, making a total fool of herself? She found herself wondering what she looked like right now - past the horrid redness that always showed up when she cried. She hadn't looked at her wounds other than to bandage her hand haphazardly, but she knew there were dark bruises on her throat because the skin there was tender to the touch. Most of her wounds would require serious inspection - the lump on the back of her head, the scratches on her back from the rough hospital walls. The most prominent wounds at first sight were of course the unmistakable hand-shaped bruises on either side of her throat, and a fainter bruise on her cheekbone.
Of course, the deep cut on her palm had been done by herself - when she had...Swallowing hard, Ezra glanced up into his gaze, nervous for some reason. If she told him what she'd done, what would he think? "I didn't even have to go back into the hospital. It's really not that bad." She found herself saying, already trying to brush off his concern.
When she took a sharp breath, he almost put her back down. The last thing he wanted was to make her upset further. Or maybe she as hurt elsewhere and he just made it worse. But when her legs locked around his waist, he shifted a hand to one of her thighs while securely still holding her around the waist and walked them up the stairs. He could feel the wetness of her tears on his skin and something about him was being torn apart. His hold on her was firm as he made it up the stairs and secured them in his room. Her grip tightened at the light and he felt that tear get a little bigger in his chest.
When she leaned back, he shifted his hold only enough so that he could look at her face. Her eyes red from the tears, the salty stains down her cheeks. But that was not what his eyes were focused on. No, he was focused on the discoloration of her skin. But the one that made him shake lightly was the very clear, vivid hand marks around her throat. He didn’t even hear her apology. If he had, he would have scoffed at her and told her to stop apologizing. There was nothing to be apologizing for. Instead, all he could hear was his heart beat in his ears.
The marks on her skin made him feel violent. He wanted to go out and destroy the city, what was left of it, until he found th person who did this. He walked them forward and turned to sit on the edge of his bed, still holding her firmly in his lap. When her weight was on him, he shifted his hand on her thigh to come up and brush against the dark marks over her throat. They were large, meaning a man did this to her. If he had been there... he couldn’t even finish the thought. Because he hadn’t been there. Why was he feeling so protective over her when he barely knew her.
His hand lifted and touched the less noticeable bruise on her cheek. “Who did this to you?” He found himself whispering. It wasn’t a good question. With everything, he could have already guessed that it was someone she didn’t know. A random attacker. But why her? “Where were you that someone attacked you like this?” His voice was a little louder now, almost to normal volume of his deep voice. His eyes started scanning her over more as he leaned slightly back from her. Her reassurance of ‘back to the hospital’ had him not exactly convinced. “Back to the hospital? Where else are you hurt? Show me.” He winched lightly when he realized how demanding he sounded. “Please... I know some basic first aide. I could look it over.” He tried to ease up his tone, soften it.
The way he looked at her made her chest feel like ice was growing in it. Or like she had butterflies in her stomach - but she didn't want to think about why his gaze made her feel that way. She saw so many emotions in his reaction to the sight of her that she couldn't quite decipher what he was thinking. Her heartbeat skittered around in her chest when he walked her to his bed, sitting so that she was still on his lap. Even with the intimate closeness of the action, the most she felt was the buzzing in her chest increase. Otherwise, it was pure comfort. Weird, to have a half naked man between your legs and be so distressed and exhausted that you didn't even want to flirt a little. Ezra hadn't ever experienced that, of course, as her normal reaction to being upset was to simply ignore the feeling.
This was different. Fundamentally, she knew she was going to struggle with this one. She'd broken the rules before, and the logical side of her told her that she was simply defending herself. Regardless, she now knew the sensation of hot blood on her hands, and that memory was going to haunt her. She knew it. It was why she hadn't slept.
His fingers on her throat brought her back into reality, and her focus snapped onto him as her heart decided to - at that precise moment - lose it's ever loving mind. She could feel the wild beat of her heart in her throat, against his fingertips. Her body was clearly betraying her thoughts, now. When his fingers moved up to her cheek, she tried to convince herself to calm down. She hadn't been this nervous around a man since - well, never, actually. Not this jumpy. She didn't know if it was the shirtlessness, the incident, or the setting they were currently in. Probably a bit of all of it, though.
“Who did this to you?”
His whisper made a chill run down her spine, and she felt her pulse double it's efforts to make her pass out. Before she had much time to even think of how to respond, he was asking about the circumstances, his voice stronger. The way he raked his gaze over her felt like a physical touch, and her skin prickled as he searched her skin for more injuries. Ezra tried to remember how to speak. "I was doing an interview at the hospital when the riots broke out." Her voice was soft, if not a little reluctant. She suddenly wanted to change the topic. She didn't want to tell him what she'd done.
“Back to the hospital? Where else are you hurt? Show me.”
The command triggered another shiver, her throat choosing to voluntarily close on her, choking her into silence for a moment as he tacked on the gentle explanation. She studied him for a moment before trying to remember where the aches were - flustered all of a sudden under his intense attention. Cataloging her injuries felt like a risky business right now - as if she were toeing an imaginary wall that was keeping back the details of the riot. Everything had happened so quickly, that she felt like she'd suffered whiplash during the entire event. "I hit the back of my head. There's a knot." She finally said, remembering how the man had slammed her into the wall, causing her head to bounce off the concrete. It hadn't bled, though - just left her with a decent sized bump on her head that was fairly tender. Of course, Jasper had already seen the bruises on her throat and cheek, so she didn't feel the need to point those out. "I think there's some scrapes on my back." She said, her gaze once again dropping to his mouth, her thoughts suddenly snapping to the idea of taking her shirt off to show him.
Pulling her poorly wrapped hand away from his shoulder, she quickly tried to distract herself. "This is the worst one." Ezra said, using her other hand to unwind the bandage to reveal the slice across her palm. It was shallower towards either end, since the glass hadn't been completely flat against her palm. The center of the cut was fairly deep, and though she'd cleaned it and wrapped it, even she knew it needed stitches. The idea made her stomach churn. At least it would give him something to focus on, and maybe she wouldn't have to tell him the whole story. Though, the apprehension in her gut told her she wasn't going to get away that easily.
“I was doing an interview at the hospital when the riots broke out.”
Jasper felt awful. He was being aggressive. Even though he was trying not to. And not for a damn good reason. He had no right to question her like he was. He thought that she’d tell him to screw off, get mad, hit him, something. He deserved it. He had no right to be acting the way that he was. But the bruising, it was so violent under her skin. And all he could picture was the kind of violence that she had been met with to cause it. Which only spurred on the thoughts. It was a vicious cycle that he was caught in.
The hospital had been one of the harder hit places. It had medical supplies, even if they were low on them themselves. But they had gone there for that, whatever was left over. Whatever they could possibly get their hands on to either stock up on or sell. And it didn’t help his case when he barked for her to show him where she was hurt. Even when he tried to soften his tone, he knew that the damage of how he said it was already done.
She was watching him, her eyes searching him for something. The silence started to drag out and he couldn’t tell if he wanted to tell her to forget it... or if he wanted to scream. But then she started talking. She started telling him where she was injured. His hand immediately lifted to lightly probe the back of her head for the knot. He found it, and tried his best to not cause her to wince. It was bigger than he expected, meaning someone had slammed her hard into a door or wall or the floor. The scratches on her back, he almost found himself slipping his hand up the back of her shirt to feel them but was quickly reminded that that action would be highly inappropriate.
Though when her eyes flashed to his lips, he felt confusion rip through him. He wanted to tell her to not reward this behavior coming from him by looking at him like that. It was not okay how he was feeling. How he was acting. Thankfully he was easily distracted as she pulled a hand away from his shoulder. He hadn’t even noticed it before, and as she unwrapped it, he winced lightly at the sight. It wasn’t pretty, but he knew that he could handle that. Maybe not with stitches, but he had other things to take care of it. “Oh little one,” He breathed out lightly.
He shifted her lightly, placing her to sit on the bed instead of his lap. “Stay here okay? I am going to get my first aide kit.” He told her lightly, making sure that he was not demanding anything from her. He had done enough of that already. And he disappeared downstairs. He made quick work of gathering the kit, a small bowl of warm water, and then came back up the stairs. “I don’t trust myself to do stitches on your palm. If it was elsewhere I’d do it, but I have superglue. And that works like a charm. Just stings a lot.” If she gave him the okay, he would start working to clean her hand.
Ezra didn't protest when Jasper reached up to probe her head with his fingers - searching for the lump, no doubt. And he found it pretty quickly too, the tender skin protesting immediately at being touched. Ezra felt her lips press together tightly, but she was a little tougher than wincing just because her head was sore. Of course, when he saw the cut on her hand, Ezra felt her chest tighten as he spoke that nickname he'd given her. Little one. Glancing up from the wound on her hand, she caught the concern on his face, and it made her eyes start to sting all over again. Why did he care so much about her well being? Why did she care so much what he thought about what she'd done? Feeling her stomach churn, she was thankful when he distracted her by easily moving her from his lap to his bed, and she was so deep in thought she didn't even protest as he did so.
“Stay here okay? I am going to get my first aide kit.”
Ezra gave him a nod, watching him go, before she carefully shrugged off her leather jacket. Beneath it was a solid black shirt with three quarter sleeves, which she also shoved up around her elbows, carefully maneuvering her injured hand now that it was unwrapped and exposed. Crossing her legs like a pretzel as she settled onto his bed, she couldn't help but note how comfortable it felt beneath her. The sudden urge to lay back and go to sleep hit her like a brick to the face, the sleep deprivation finally showing it's face. Thankfully she didn't, though, because Jasper actually came back pretty quickly, and she turned her focus to him as he spoke.
She felt her lips curve into a soft, rueful smirk. "Fine by me. I don't like needles anyways." She told him, shifting her weight as she waited for him to rejoin her on the bed, offering up her hand as he did so. She thought about asking if the superglue would hurt, but she figured she'd probably already embarrassed herself enough tonight and instead pressed her lips tightly together. For a while, she didn't speak, her gaze on her hand as he worked, but her thoughts a million miles away. Of course, as soon as she let her mind wander, she was already picturing the blood pooling, the man's sightless gaze. Closing her eyes, Ezra reached up to rub the bridge of her nose for a moment. Blinking as she opened her gaze, she tried to focus on what Jasper was doing.
Except, the images felt like they were painted on the back of her eyes. She felt the nerves buzzing in her gut, and soon it spread into her chest. Staring hard at her hand, willing it to hurt more than it did, Ezra bit the inside of her cheek, feeling her gaze burn all over again. If she cried in front of Jasper for a second time, she was liable to throw herself down the stairs. She could feel the urge to tell him burning in the back of her throat like a bad taste. She needed to tell someone, someone who hadn't been there. And maybe it would bring Jasper some peace, knowing the guy was already taken care of.
"He's dead." She blurted, her gaze moving up to meet his as she spoke the words, her entire body tense, like she was waiting for him to push her away and call her a murderer. Even though he'd clearly been upset by the sight of her, and had given her no reason to think he wouldn't support her, Ezra was still afraid he was going to kick her out in his disgust. The next words clung to her throat like glue, so much so that she almost choked on them. "I killed him."
When he returned, she had made herself comfortable on his bed. Not a bad idea, and he was glad that she had. This was not going to be an easy task at hand, nor a fun one. She might even want to cuss him out at one point during the process and he wouldn’t blame her one bit. Though she gave him a small smile as he told her he wasn’t about to Frankenstein her hand back together. It wasn’t something he could do with confidence. She had made space on the bed for him, but he found himself kneeling in front of her instead, he would likely be too big and awkward next to her if he tried from that angle.
He scooted as close as he could in front of her, his body lightly touching the end of the bed as he dragged her hand close to him. He started cleaning her hand. It wasn’t pretty, and the more he looked at it, the more he was wondering how in the world she had done that. At first he thought she had cut her hand open with a knife. Just because it was what had made sense. But now that he was looking at it closer, the edges were uneven, the slice was not like a blade running across it. No, this was different.
He tried his best to soothe her as he started to pinch the skin together and pour the superglue into place. He knew it probably was going to sting. He had been pieced together a few times with the super glue himself but damn did it almost leave no scarring at all. He hoped that would be true for her as well. And her hand wouldn’t look pretty either. It was going to look rather ugly depending on how everything dried and held together her hand. He only hoped that he was helping and not causing more damage.
As he was about halfway through it, her voice spoke up again, and his eyes lifted to hers. “He’s dead.” It was like a bolt of electricity shot down his spine and kicked him right in the rear. God, he knew that feeling. The one that she no doubt had swirling around her stomach and he wished that he could take it for her. As her eyes reached his, he reached out and brushed part of her hair behind her shoulder. He knew what was going to be said next. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach. So he refocused for a moment and quickly finished the job that was in front of him. “I killed him.” He blew lightly on the last of the glue to make sure it dried as fast as possible.
Once he was sure it would hold, Jasper stood and scooped her in his arms. “I know its not easy, I know you are going to remember this. I wish I could tell you that it’ll just go away. And with time it might. But just know, you did what you had to do to survive Ezra. You would not be here if you didn’t do what you did. I know I don’t know a lot about you yet, but I know you wouldn’t hurt someone unless you absolutely had to.” He was talking in a soft, deep voice to her, his hand rubbing little circles on her back. “You are safe here. I... come with me.” He slowly released her, and stepped away, offering his hand to her so he could lead her to what he wanted to show her.
That sudden pit of fear that yawned wide in her gut as she finally told him that the man who'd attacked her was dead suddenly snapped shut when Jasper brushed her hair back from her face. The gesture was so purely kind that it made her eyes sting worse. She was losing the battle with the unshed tears building in her gaze, but she bit the inside of her cheek, steeling herself as she forged forward with her confession.
Maybe it was because she was so tired, or maybe it was because she was still so numb emotionally, but the process of gluing her palm hadn't hurt nearly as bad as the confession of her crime. Her throat was so tight and dry she was certain she was about to lose the ability to breathe, her gaze locked on Jasper's as the words I killed him passed her lips. The feeling of Jasper's breath hitting her palm made a shiver run through her arm, her hand shaking as the chill crawled down her spine. When he gathered her into his arms, Ezra didn't fight him. She pressed her face into his chest, his broad figure enveloping her in warmth.
“I know its not easy, I know you are going to remember this. I wish I could tell you that it’ll just go away. And with time it might. But just know, you did what you had to do to survive Ezra. You would not be here if you didn’t do what you did. I know I don’t know a lot about you yet, but I know you wouldn’t hurt someone unless you absolutely had to.”
The fact that in the same breath he both comforted her and admitted he didn't know her very well struck a nerve inside of Ezra's chest. Maybe because he hadn't acknowledged the fact that they barely knew each other, she could convince herself that he still had ulterior motives. But he hadn't once tried to pull a move on her, and had responded to her hurt with warmth and kindness. It felt like someone had taken her heart in their fist and squeezed. She closed her eyes, focusing on the warm presence of his hand as he rubbed her back, the sound of his voice rumbling in his chest. His heartbeat. She wasn't sure how to respond to him, how to explain the way she was feeling. She'd never felt so overwhelmed and so numb all at the same time - it was a little frightening, honestly. And whatever he was doing to her nerves wasn't helping, but the way he was instantly there to comfort her was definitely easing the turmoil in her head. What had happened at the hospital was probably going to haunt her dreams for a long time.
And then he was pulling away from her, and she opened her eyes to look up into his gaze before trailing down to his outstretched hand. Her body didn't give her time to think about where he was taking her and if she even wanted to take his hand - she just reached out automatically and tried not to think about how small her hand was in his. At least, with this distraction, the tears in her gaze had dried and she was feeling more level headed. Her lips twitching, she glanced up into his gaze again, her brows pulling inward. "Where are we going? I thought there was a curfew?" Her usually casual jesting tone was a little off, but at least she still had a sense of humor. It was easier to deflect feeling things by making everything a joke. Still, Ezra let him lead her by the hand, because for some uncanny reason she seemed to trust him.
He held her close, not too tight as he was afraid to hurt her, but securely. She seemed to want his comfort that he was offering, moving into him and pressing her face into his chest. He noted how he could easily wrap his arms around her all the way. He knew he was a large man, everyone even pointed it out, but he liked how she fit against him. Like he could protect her from everything with just holding her wrapped in his arms. She seemed to ease up a little as he kept up the small circles on her back. Taking that as a good sign that he was helping settle that battle that was happening in her head.
He had wished someone had done that for him years ago. When he had been in combat. Not that he would have expected any other soldier to do it for him. But to have someone there to help ease that ache, to give him something to focus on. Just to comfort him by rubbing small circles on his back. That’s what he would have wanted, which is why he felt it was the right thing to do for her.
Her hand slipped into his, and he held it softly, his thumb running over the back of her hand for a moment as she seemed to pull herself together before she met his eyes. And then there it was. That small retort that she gave him made him laugh lightly. There she was. Even though her ton was not there, she was trying to fall back into her normal banter with him and he’d allow it. “There is a curfew.” He said back to her, his blue eyes rolling lightly, teasingly, as he gently pulled her to another side door in his room. Once the door was open, she’d see that the stairs led her straight into the shop, his impala resting below them. “But we aren’t technically leaving my home.”
And with that he would steer her down the steps, keeping his pace steady so he wasn’t dragging her along. A light was on, but not much else to light their way. But Jasper kept the shop clean and in order, so he didn’t have to worry about them tripping over anything as they walked. He would guild her towards what looked like a supply room, and once the door open he flipped the light on. Showing that it was in fact, exactly what it looked like. With a deep breath, he started to explain. “I served in the military. I believe in fighting for my rights and doing what is right for those around me. I also don’t believe that what is happening with the military presence now is actually right. Not the abuse of the power that has been seen.” His tone was deep, but he kept it neutral as he brought her through the room. Then he turned her to an almost hidden door that was behind a few isles of parts.
He flipped the lock on the door and opened it up. “I have a safe space. For those hiding. For those who are trying to help people. Not those criminals who did those raids. But good honest people. Who just want to protect and save their family.” He reached in and turned another light on. They’d probably only had a little bit of time before the power outage kicked in. But he wanted her to see this. “If you ever need to get away, you ever need a safe space. You can come to me.” He held the door open and nodded for her to enter if she wanted to.
What she’d find inside is a large room. A bed in one corner, a few couches lining the wall. A small fridge that held water and a few things like stuff to make PB&J sandwiches. Non-perishables stacked in the corner. It was truly a hide out. A safe space where someone could hole up for a few days without having to worry or leave. “The TV works as well.” He joked at the small TV that was in the corner. “Just don’t go around telling all your friends.” He warned.
Ezra couldn’t explain the relief she felt when Jasper rolled his eyes at her, letting her take the easy route of masking her problems with humor. She didn’t want to think about what had happened anymore right now - she wanted to focus on anything else. As Jasper ran his thumb over the back of her hand, she felt like she could feel the touch echoing through her entire body. The little comforts he afforded her, even though she hadn’t asked for them, were like someone throwing her a lifeline. It definitely helped that they also served as an easy distraction.
She let him lead her without resistance, raising her brows as he opened a door that led into the shop itself. As they moved onward, the smell of oil and metal met her nose and she felt herself fall into curiosity. As a journalist, Ezra was pretty good at reading a situation for if it has potential value - and immediately her radar was going off. Brows pinched together as her mind tried to work around what he could be trying to show her, Ezra glanced around the dim shop as he pulled her along, his stride confident and sure.
It occurred to her that she should probably be concerned - Jasper was basically a stranger to her, and though he’d been nothing but respectful and friendly from the moment she met him, that didn’t mean he was a good person. But for whatever reason, Ezra’s instincts weren’t telling her to be careful. To be wary. She was comfortable with him - maybe because she’d just cried in front of him, and she knew for a fact that her face wasn’t all that pretty right now. And yet he’d been kind to her. Maybe she was letting the attraction and the gratitude she was feeling cloud her senses - and when he opened a door to what was clearly a supply closet, Ezra frowned.
Her lips were parting to question him when he started talking, and she pressed them together to let him get what he wanted to say out, her gaze jumping around as she tried to find something of interest - but she didn’t catch the door until he walked over to it, and then the alarms started to blare in her head. The sight of the hidden door made her heart leap up into her throat, pounding out a rhythm of anticipation. This was something.
”If you ever need to get away, you ever need a safe space. You can come to me.”
And then he nodded her ahead, into the room. Another woman might have turned and ran for it, but Ezra didn’t hesitate to step past him into the bunker-like room. Her gaze traveled along every object in the space, taking it all in. She wished she had her camera, a recorder. But then again, even as the excitement in her grew, she knew that she couldn’t write about it. Ezra wasn’t even dumb enough to ask - if she wrote about it, even if she put in the effort to keep it anonymous and his identity hidden, it would put him and everything he was doing at risk. Ezra did a slow turn in the center of the room, continuing to inspect the room as Jasper let out some jokes. She realized she hadn’t responded once since he’d lead her to this hidden hideout, so she turned her attention back to him. At his final joke, Ezra felt a broad grin split her face, shaking her head in amusement. ”That’s a pretty big ask for a journalist like myself.” She replied, her tone mockingly grave. ”But you’re kinda cute, so I’ll let it slide.”
Oh, how she wanted to start drilling him with questions. But she really did intend on keeping this to herself, so she tried to distract herself. The fact that Jasper was ex-military didn’t surprise her, not with the way he’d talked about how she felt. Got it down to a tee. He’d killed people before, too. Brushing her fingertips along the arm of one of the couches, Ezra took another look around the room. ”How long have you been doing this?” She asked, feeling like it was a safe question. She tried not to focus on the fact that he was trusting her with this information, or that he had offered her this place as a safe haven, also. Ezra couldn’t see why he’d tell her about this - she wouldn’t trust someone like her. But it worked in his favor, she guessed, since she knew the last thing she wanted to do was double cross him.
Turning away from the room, she started to head back towards Jasper so that they weren’t talking from across the room. She was only a few feet away from him when the lights suddenly turned off - plunging them into darkness. Ezra’s foot came down on something that was definitely not the floor - but it was too late to correct the action. Her ankle gave out due to the uneven footing she’d suddenly found, and she tumbled forward. Trying to stop herself from fully falling, she didn’t have time to think about where Jasper had gone - of course, she found him moments later when she crashed into the solid expanse of his torso, grunting in surprise.
Ezra was thankful it was so dark, because she could feel the blood rushing into her face and throat in a full on blush, her skin on fire. Her hands had reached out automatically, and she realized she still had fistfulls of Jasper’s shirt clenched in her hands. Scrambling to find solid footing, she quickly corrected herself so that she was supporting her own weight, but the last thing her idiotic brain decided to do was let Jasper go, so she ended up hesitating before dropping her hands to her sides with an audible slapping sound. ”Jesus.” Ezra cursed, clearing her throat, very not used to feeling embarrassed. ”I’m sorry.”
