#still headcanoning archie as either half latino or italian

[goldeneyedgirl]

TwiFicmas23 Day 9: to ground (jasper/archie)

Good evening! An early post tonight because I am fueled by chocolate frogs, the potential for some amateur surgery tonight (doctor approved, it's fine), and the promise that the holiday season is nearly upon us and I'll stop waking up in a terrified haze that I've forgotten to order something that Amazon doesn't stock locally.

It's been a weird day.

Tonight I bring you what at least three people have requested: an Attempt at Jasper/Archie. This was started for Pride and I've continued working on it. This is the first draft, so it'll undergo some polishing and edits before it hits AO3, not to mention a ream of author's notes for context.

This is my first time writing m/m, so I'm oddly fascinated with how this turned out. I think it's okay? I think my biggest issue is characterizing Archie right and making sure I capture what we know about him with what we know about Alice.

I probably need to do more world/lore building for the boys like I have with Jess and Alice, but c'est la vie. I tried and I hope for all the people that wanted this, you enjoy it!

going to ground. The motel is dim and smells damp, some rundown place halfway to Olympia that was never more than half full, used by truckers and seasonal workers on their way to Peninsula and back home again. The bedspreads were shiny, discoloured polyester; the smell of mould and stale air permeating every crevice.

Archie isn’t happy. But it’s easier to be pissed at the state of this motel to distract himself.

Jasper’s stripped to his waist in the bathroom, prolonging the inevitable. Hot water will alleviate the pain for a short time, but he’s damn well pushing it. He’s not even treating the wounds anymore; he’s just hiding.

It’s always been Jasper’s habit to go to ground when he’s injured. In Calgary, in New Hampshire, and now in Forks. He won’t - can’t - even be around the Cullens when he’s that physically vulnerable. Archie always privately wondered if Jasper brought him alone so that someone had his back, or if he knew Archie would follow him to the ends of the Earth no matter what, or maybe so that he knew that Archie was protected.

His boy was wretchedly overprotective.

Which was, frankly, the reason that they were in this mess in the first place.

Scowling, Archie nudged the bed ruffle with his toe and nodded to himself when it crinkled like plastic. This place really was a dump. Normally, Jasper would take them out in the middle of the forest somewhere, carefully chosen for their inability to be tracked. After Calgary, it had taken Archie weeks to convince Jasper to go home, that it was safe. That they were safe, Maria was gone, and the Cullens were their family - they were no danger to them, they weren’t angry or upset with them for what Maria did (though Esme had been nigh hysterical at their sudden disappearance) - and they needed to go back.

New Hampshire had been somewhat easier; it had only taken a week to get Jasper home, and that hadn’t been an emotionally loaded incident, just some territorial nomads.

And now Forks.

Jasper had driven them here, and it was an unexpected that he hadn’t simply insisted on plunging into the Olympic National Park for days on end. But maybe that was more strategy - the woods were the first place the Cullens would look. A shitty motel halfway to Olympia wouldn’t be a place anyone would come looking for them for days - especially with both Bella and Jacob wounded.

Archie scowls again, and decided he’s been patient enough. He’s not one to sulk over big things - he wants the air cleared and everything resolved. But Jasper hates arguing so much that he’ll cloister himself rather than face Archie. It doesn’t matter where, as long as he can hide - in his study, in the garage with Rose, or - apparently - in a motel bathroom only a few steps above a truck stop.

The pain would be excruciating.

He’s been in there long enough.

“Jas.” He knocks on the door, and hears nothing besides the running tap. He waits a beat before he tries the knob - surprisingly, it’s unlocked and Archie wonders if he missed Jasper unlatching it, or if he just assumed it was locked.

Jasper’s slumped against the wall, his eyes pitch-black. There’s something about them that when they’re thirsty; vampires look gaunt and slightly grey-er than usual. A little closer to dead. Probably not noticeable to humans but to him, who looks at Jasper every single day, he looks miserable.

Archie moves closer, crouching down. Jasper’s eyes are tracking him, but he says nothing.

“Show me,” Archie says gently, but Jasper’s eyes have dropped to Archie’s right arm, covered by his sweatshirt.

“Jasper, you need to let me help you.” He can smell the venom - mostly Jasper’s, but there’s a sharp, foreign note that makes Archie worry. The scent is strong enough that the wound is still open, and it’s been hours. “Please.”

“Let me see it,” Jasper says hoarsely; speaking sounds painful. He needs to hunt, on top of everything, and he can’t. Not yet. Not til they take care of this.

“You first,” Archie replies firmly, but Jasper doesn’t move, his eyes fixed on Archie’s arm.

Sighing, Archie shoves the sleeve of his sweatshirt up; there’s an old ace bandage wrapped around it whilst the skin repaired. But after he removes it, the wound is obvious - the angry purpling of the bite has faded, now that it has been cleaned of foreign venom, it’s only slightly darker and will fade completely in a few hours, especially if Archie goes hunting. It’s a shallow wound, will barely scar. Frankly, Jasper’s given him more impressive marks in bed.

But Jasper doesn’t even stop the horror from rolling off him at the sight of it.

“Your turn,” Archie says in a voice that brooks no arguments, trying to squash the irritation down. It’s been a long time since Jasper’s been this… shaken up over anything, and it’s easier to pretend that it’s him being dramatic over Archie’s bite mark right now.

Jasper nods, and gets on his knees to lean forward.

It looks exactly like Archie’s visions showed him. Worse, actually, because this is real life.

The fissure runs down his back, parallel to his spine, from where his neck and shoulder meet, to his waist. The flesh has split like a geode, and Archie can see all the petrified fat and muscle right down to the bone, with an eerie golden sheen over it all. The edges are purple-black from the foreign venom, almost blistered. In contrast, the bite mark on the back of his neck looks benign, even though it should scare him more.

The whole thing makes him feel sick and frankly, Archie doesn’t feel even a tiny bit capable of dealing with this. He would give anything to have Rose or Carlisle here to patch Jasper up, whilst he flirted and made jokes to distract him.

But Jasper wouldn’t trust them. He might respect Carlisle, and love Rose, but when it comes down to the meat of it, he doesn’t trust them like he trusts Archie.

“Don’t be mad,” Jasper says in that same hoarse, flat voice. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” Archie replies, and it’s not totally a lie. He’s panicking internally, he’s still annoyed and frustrated, but he’s not angry.

Jasper lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a whine, and that pushes Archie into action - Jasper’s in pain and he’s sitting here navel-gazing.

“Come and lie on the bed, and we’ll clean this up. I promise I won’t make any moves on you,” Archie tugs him to his feet, his lame attempt at a joke falling flat. Jasper limps after him, looking miserable.

The groan Jasper lets out as he lies face-down on the bed is made uglier by the way the wound pulls and shifts as he moves. Archie’s not one with a weak stomach, but knowing that mess is attached to the person he loves most in the world… it’s hard to look at.

He almost understands why Edward’s so fixated on keeping Bella safe. If Jasper were as vulnerable as Bella…

There’s no one else to help them, so it has to be Archie.

The bag from the convenience store is on the nightstand; salt, a bottle of cheap vodka, and a tube of aloe vera. It was a goddamn crude kit; Carlisle would be horrified at the use of vodka. Actually, he’d be horrified by this whole set-up. In a perfect world, they’d be back at the Cullens and Archie would be allowed to do this properly.

But they aren’t and he can’t.

Archie had honestly never asked Jasper how they discovered flammable fluids could purge out foreign venom, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know -the vodka would draw out any venom that stuck to the open wound, since foreign venom gained a nearly honey-like stickiness to it after a short time. The inability to purge it successfully was nearly always what caused scarring. Salt worked to purge the rest of the foreign material out of it, and aloe vera kick-started their cells healing again.

It’s not human blood; human blood would do the heavy lifting if they used that, but both of them know that it’s a slippery slope, and one that is best left alone for many reasons. The least of all is the fragile alliance they’ve formed with the Pack. Archie feels like they wouldn’t take kindly to them stealing blood from the hospital, even for injury treatment, so he didn’t even suggest it.

Carlisle would adore to discuss all of this in great detail - he’s been fixated on vampire healing principles for years. Archie should suggest it to Jasper as a holiday gift for next year. Hell, one page of notes would keep Carlisle and Eleazer occupied for days.

The worst part of treating Jasper, Archie decides as he very quickly douses Jasper’s back in salt and alcohol, is the fact that Jasper stays silent. Protesting the pain, even the smallest noise, is a sign of weakness. The only indication of the agony that he’s in is the tightening of his back and arm muscles.

So Archie talks. Everything spills out, all the inane shit that goes through his head - that he’s still disappointed that Bella didn't want to go to senior prom because the dress he had in mind would have been a showstopper, and no he wasn’t going to use it for her wedding dress because that dress has been drawn and cut for a while now.

He complains about the fight, that the wolves blocked his visions and there were one or two half-visions that looked like they spelt doom but nothing came to pass so now he’s reconsidering the accuracy. Or was the fact the wolves are unknowable affecting the outcome?

He’ll have fun debating that one with Edward at some point.

Archie isn’t sure when he runs out of easy words to say, but it does happen as he watches the foreign venom burn out of the fissure, and the room is silent. The only real communication they have is Archie’s hand rubbing Jasper’s shoulder soothingly; the only form of reassurance that he can offer right now. Too many things need to be said. Even more need to not be said.

So, they sit in silence. When the wounds look clear, Archie carefully helps Jasper lie back on the bed. It’ll take a while for them to heal, and it’s draining - Jasper told him that years ago. He’ll need to hunt immediately after this. Jasper lies back with a sigh, a breath released now that the worst of the pain has been dealt with, and closes his eyes. Archie takes up his spot in the rancid-looking armchair, hugging his knees to his chest, and waits.

Jasper breaks the silence after a couple of hours.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He sounds clearer, better, and it’s a tangible relief. Archie immediately crawls onto the bed, motioning for Jasper to lean forward so he can check his back. The fissure already looks so much better; the bite too has lightened, but both are going to leave a nasty scar.

“You still need to hunt,” Archie informs him, absently pressing a kiss to Jasper’s shoulder blade before settling Jasper back against the pillows.

He’s delicious and it doesn’t matter how many years pass, Archie still gets butterflies looking at him. Shirtless and in worn out jeans really is his very best look. If this were any other moment, just a quick getaway for some privacy…

But it isn’t.

“Talk to me,” Jasper said insistently, his hand reaching up to cup Archie’s cheek. “I know you’re still mad.”

“It was a stupid fucking risk,” Archie says precisely, but without the vehemence he had earlier. “I had everything under control. One bite is not the end of the world.”

“It is to me,” Jasper said simply. “When it’s you.”

Archie closed his eyes to drag up some patience. “Jasper. One bite verses this,” he waved his hand over him. “You were mauled. It was opportunistic and you could have gotten killed.” His voice rises and he has to stop himself, keep his temper. It’s the fear of what could have happened that makes him angry, he knows that. “I have seen you get hurt so many times over the years… so many near misses, so many times you’ve been so close to not coming back, not being there, that the fact you take those risks…”

He closes his eyes for a moment to compose himself, and instinctively lies next to Jasper, curled to rest his head on Jasper’s shoulder. It brings back memories, the scent of Jasper’s skin (the same leather-sun-wood he’s known for decades, but tinged with the venom and alcohol that leaves him uneasy) not quite soothing Archie’s anxiety. He remembers the visions where Jasper was too far gone to fight but he still went into battle. How many times did he nearly lose his head, did he nearly get overrun by enemy soldiers desperate to prove themselves by bringing down the Major of Monterrey?

How many times did Archie watch everything he ever wanted fade away for a second, because Jasper took a stupid fucking risk? And he was certain those days were over so many times - when they met; Ohio in ’49; Calgary is ’76; New Hampshire in ’81, and now Forks. It just never stops; it’s always going to linger, that idea that Jasper is never going to be safe, never going to be protected.

“If you’d been able to see it, would you have stopped me?” Jasper asks softly, one arm wrapping around Archie.

“Duh.” He’s tracing the scars on Jasper’s chest now, scars he knows so well he could draw them with his eyes closed - an absent gesture that calms him. “You never would have noticed.”

“Exactly.” Jasper waits for Archie to acknowledge his point, but he doesn’t look up. “I saw what was happening and I stopped it. The same way you would have for me.”

“But you were…” Archie scrunches his eyes up and turns away. “I would have been okay. One bite is nothing compared to all of this!”

Maybe this will turn into a proper argument. They haven’t had one since Calgary. Maybe they’re due for one.

“Come back,” Jasper says, and he sounds so tired that Archie rolls back over reflexively, but sprawled half-across Jasper’s chest this time, staring up into Jasper’s black eyes.

“I’ve seen arm bites go terribly, terribly wrong,” Jasper said in that low voice that he used just for Archie’s ears; intimate and almost dark. “You’ve seen Peter’s scars; that’s one of the better outcomes from a bad bite. And there is no part of me I wouldn’t sacrifice to make sure you aren’t the one with a mutilated arm - if we managed to save your arm at all. That newborn wasn’t going to just bite you; he was prepared to take his pound of flesh, and I…

“The injuries I’ve seen on the battlefield… Arch, I know what our venom can do to vampire skin. I’ve seen it go half necrotic, I’ve seen it eat through flesh until you just have to amputate at the shoulder. Neither Maria or I ever figured out why that happened to some bites. Only that it did and there was nothing we could do. It might just be a bite, but I couldn’t risk it. I wouldn’t risk anything about you, ever.”

Archie leads out a huff of breath and Jasper chuckles, brushing his hair from his face.

“I’m not gonna lie to you, it got away from me for a moment,” Jasper continued, his hand cupping Archie’s face again. “But I knew you were there and you had my back and that everything was going to be okay as long as you were.”

“You know that it’s the same for me, right? That it’s only going to be okay for me if you are?” Archie’s contemplating kissing him right now, but not if that’s going to interrupt this talk so that they have to finish it later. “I need you to… I need you to be selfish and be safe. Every time I think it’s gonna be okay and we don’t have to worry about dying any more, something changes and I’m tired, Jas. I’m so, so tired.”

Jasper ghosts a kiss over Archie’s cheek, and it’s not enough. “I’m never going to apologise for protecting you, and I’m never going to stop making sure you’re okay,” Jasper murmured, frowning as he shifted on the bed to redistribute their weight. “But I swear I will always come back to you, okay? When it’s our time, we’ll go together.”

Archie nods, and that’s when Jasper surprises him by pulling him flush and kissing him hard. It’s the kind of kiss that is always a precursor for more, especially if Jasper’s hand on his belt is any indication of how the rest of the night is going to go.

And he’s okay with that, as long as Jasper doesn’t mess up his back any worse.

Tomorrow, he’s going to have to check in with their family, reassure them that everything is okay, and drag Jasper home and pretend they just ran off to fuck in the woods and everything is fine. There were no grievous bodily wounds tended to in a rank little highway motel, there were no meltdowns.

But right now, he’s going to take this kiss, and the next one, and just be here and now, with the battle over and won and everyone in one piece. He’s going to get his boy naked and have one of those nights they don’t get to have very often in a family of seven where they don’t have to be quiet or subtle or keep one ear out for potential interruptions.

And he’s going to turn those words over in his mind - “When it’s our time, we’ll go together” - warm and safe, until he can trust and believe that they aren’t just a promise, but their future.