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Jasper leaps from bed with the sound of a lock turning and the outer door to his cell rattling open.
Maria’s smile outshines the sun. One hand on their hip and the other dangling a pair of handcuffs off their finger.
“Does someone wanna go for a walk?” They intone, teasing.
“What are you doing?” Jasper drawls.
He wipes the sleep from his eyes, happy to have finally awoken to a room that wasn’t plagued with darkness at least.
There’s a comfort to their new routine; Waking up with Remi and Maria and spending most of his day outside of his cell reinvigorates him.
It also gives him time to plan. Map the space inside and out. Understand where rules can be bent or not.
It keeps his misery at bay with distractions. And today he gets the inclination that there will be many.
“Good morning.” Remi greets evenly.
Jasper sits up, easing off the bed as Remi and Maria shuffle about in the cramped corridor for space.
With the sheet plate door gone, he gets a grated, barred, image of the two trying to shove into the doorway to talk to him; Maria’s more stout, short, form and Remi towering from behind and digging into his jacket.
“Taking you for a walk. Didn’t you literally just hear me?” Maria huffs.
“You’ve done good work recently. That deserves a reward.” Remi finally fishes the keys out of his pocket, “We got the go ahead to do some… simple observation shifts.”
“Sitting around highly populated parts of the city and watch for weird shit.” Maria clarifies, “Basically busy work. You wanna come? We can get drinks!” They light up.
“Non-alcoholic.” Remi reminds them, to Maria’s audible chagrin, “We’re still working.”
The key fits into the secondary, interior, lock and Jasper holds out a hand. He can feel the air shift.
Listen, he’s all for it– For leaving to go outside– But this… it seems too good to be true. Especially only a few weeks into whatever revival program the Order has Jasper on.
He doesn’t care how sympathetic Agatha and Dante seem. He knows who they collude with. Where he ended up because of them. Where Aguiar ended up.
Anger flushes him and Jasper has to swallow it down. Not helpful.
“Are you serious?” Jasper says, glancing between them.
The Order is cruel, but purposeful. Jasper is isolated to break him down. Aguiar is taken for some kind of occult ritual. These aren’t mindless cultists or barbarians, they’re strong, decisive, individuals.
They don’t have any reason to lie. Whatever they want from him, they can get. Dare he say they already took everything he had.
Which is to say… maybe he does, in a small way, trust when Remi meets his gaze steadily and says; “Yes.”
And then the door swings open.
“C’mon.” Remi gestures with a nod, “Let’s talk in the medbay.”
Needing a chaperone to go anywhere in the Order is… annoying, but he tries not to let it bother him too much. Jasper can see the reasoning. If he was allowed to come and go as he pleased, then he could leave when no one was looking. Or jump someone.
Likely, he would jump someone. He’s been thinking about it.
Which is why the whole affair is taken very seriously. Maria and Remi bracket him on either side like a protection service, leading him in a near singular path that they guide him through. Their boxing of him reads loud and clear to anyone who’s been in the Order in the last month; Unstable killer in the Order, steer clear!
His feelings on it flip depending on the day. Today; He’s just glad they don’t pass anyone Jasper recognizes. And he’s sure his handlers think so too. The only members up and about this early in the morning aren’t the ones Jasper has a grudge against, just sparse forgettable faces drinking coffee and chattering softly between themselves.
Remi waves to– Who he’s now learned is– Marcela, showing him all the way to the back of the medical wing, where a black duffle sits on an empty bed.
(She gives Jasper an odd but not unfriendly smile, so Jasper gives her a curt wave back. Strange. That’s new.)
Remi gestures over with a wave and Jasper hastens to comply. Unzippering the bag, he pulls out their regular affairs for missions; Tranquilizer syringes, bandages, bullets, pistol— Then he drops a baseball cap and a long-sleeve hoodie into his outstretching arms; “Put these on.”
“…What?”
Remi mindlessly digs on and Maria steps in, “It’s for your skin.” They wave their phone screen at him, “It’s a temperate 27 degrees outside and no clouds in São Paulo, querido, you need coverage.”
“I’m not that sensitive.”
Maria outlines him in the air with a finger, “Not only are you biologically inclined to burn faster, but you’ve been stuck inside under fifty pounds of concrete in the dark for weeks. Sunscreen alone isn’t gonna cut it.” She taps her temple, “Nurse, remember?”
“--That, and we need it to hide the cuffs.” Remi points out, calling over his shoulder.
Maria crosses their arms, “And that.”
Jasper drops the cap to the bed, unfolding the long, worn, fabric. It’s emblazoned on the front with Santa Casa de São Paulo, though the lettering has cracked and worn from many years of usage, “Right. I was gonna ask. Handcuffs?” He peeks around it to give them both a look.
“We can’t trust you not to bolt the minute we go into public. One minute you need to use the bathroom, the next you’re down the street and running into traffic,” Remi fits one end of the cuff around his own wrist, watching it click shut around each jagged tooth, “But you also need to walk around and go outside. Being cooped up in here will only make matters worse.”
He’s offended just long enough to remember that had been, at least distantly, a plan of his. Fine. Whatever. It was a longshot anyhow.
“So the hoodie—”
“—Covers it up with the sleeve hanging off your wrist. Bulky enough to hide the form.”
Jasper grunts in mild agreement, pulling it over his head. It’s black, at the very least.
“And be careful with that, it’s been in my wardrobe for years now.” Maria tuts.
Jasper’s head pops free, reeling. “What? This is– this is yours?”
Now that he realizes it, the hoodie does have a distinctive scent that he’s gotten only off of Maria– Something vanilla and woody in the notes. Amber, maybe.
He’d thought it was just a pungent shampoo, but now he wonders if they simply bathe all their things in this perfume.
“We were on short notice.” Maria says, “Does it fit?”
He pats down the front, adjusting the trim and hood to sit more slouched on his shoulders. It’s a rather good fit, really, if not maybe a little oversized. Jasper is used to the baggy hand-downs though, from both his previous life and Aguiar.
“It’s fine. Comfortable.” He almost thanks them, the words sit on the tip of his tongue. Then the moment passes and Jasper goes back to fidgeting with the clothing. These aren’t situations in which he should be grateful.
They look pleased with themselves anyhow.
“Here, give me your hand.” Remi asks.
He drops his wrist into his waiting grasp without another thought. His skin crawls, almost, alight with prickling as he’s pulled steady and the cold jaws secured under his protruding thumb.
“Tell me if it’s too tight.”
“Alright.”
It’s hard to tell. Jasper’s palms are sweating slightly, the brush of knuckles against his own lighting up a dormant wave of goosebumps that threaten to sweep him underfoot. Why? He’s not afraid of Remi. He’s not excited, either. He’s simply… peeled back. Raw.
The cuff clicks onto his wrist, tightening. Remi shakes his hand, tugging Jasper’s along as well, the two of their conjoined handcuffs clinking “How’s that?”
Their hands almost immediately knot together by sheer proximity and a shiver runs up his spine.
“Fine.” Jasper shrugs, picking up the hat from the bed once more. Focus.
Remi slides a finger between his wrist and the cuff, brushing his racing pulsepoint.
“Good. Try not to move your wrist too much or it’ll attract attention.”
“Won’t the three of us on our own attract attention?” Jasper asks, adjusting the brim of the baseball cap.
“It’s São Paulo, querido.” Maria drawls, as if that was convincing enough on its own.
“That’s a good point though; How do we look?” Remi steps back, trying to look casual whilst pressed to Jasper’s shoulder. His chin holds high, chopped and shaved cuts of hair sprawling down his cheek. Long scar dragging through his brow.
He almost wants to joke that Jasper looks more normal next to him, but the itch in his skin says otherwise.
Maria scans them with a commiserating look.
“It looks stranger if you just stand next to one another.” Maria suggests, tapping their chin, “You should just hold hands.”
A startled laugh jumps out of him. RIght, yeah, sure. It’s already a stretch to imagine Remi agreeing to this insane plan, at no benefit to his own life–
Remi sighs and interlocks their fingers.
Startling, Jasper’s hand is frozen still. Remi’s palm cups his own without any hesitation. If he’s bothered by Jasper’s non-reaction, he doesn’t speak it, instead tipping his head back and forth to garner a better view.
“How’s this?”
“Better.” Maria grins, “Much more natural-looking.”
Remi rolls his eyes, lip twisted in what Jasper might dare to suggest is fondness.
He raises their tangled fingers, “It’s best not to raise suspicion. Maria’s right, it’s more likely to pass over people’s eyes if there’s a reason we’re so close.” He shrugs, brows raised in salient agreement.
Jasper forces his voice past his lips, “Right.”
“Can you see the cuffs?” Remi tugs on Jasper’s sleeve, bringing it lower.
“No– If anything it might look like one of Jasper’s thousands of necklaces. As long as no one looks too close.”
“It’s not ideal, but it’s only temporary.”
“Temporary?” Jasper questions, lifting his gaze from their hands.
Remi nods, picking at his loose jacket and the collar of his shirt, “When you’ve become a fully integrated agent, there won’t be a need for cuffs.”
Jasper’s head spins. His thoughts gnaw and teethe at the wording, rolling it over and over; When. Remi says, with full confidence and not a stutter in his flow, when he becomes an agent. Not if.
“Heads up.”
Jasper catches a small travel-sized bottle of sun-lotion. Maria taps the front, “SPF Fifty.”
“Maria, you do know I’ve been in direct sunlight for hours before.” He already has the sunglasses and the hat and the hoodie.
“Save us all the agony and put it on.” Remi says, needling him with a curt; “That’s an order.”
“Fuck your orders.” Jasper seethes, popping open the cap with his thumb, “And give me my fuckin’ hand.” He pulls them both hard until he gets comfortable, Remi grumbling with a discordant sneer.
“You know, it’s hot when you pull rank like that.” Maria muses.
Remi charitably ignores her.
There’s a noticeable temperature change as they rise up the steps. Heat seeps into the air, thick and humid, and the cold sterile filtration shudders away despite it’s natural urge to rise.
Jasper needs immeasurable restraint to not book it, Remi be damned.
Maria scoots ahead of them on the stairs, chattering over their shoulder, “How about a coffee shop? Something quiet.”
Remi maintains his grip on Jasper’s hand, “Probably for the best. Good for maintaining cover as well, we won’t need to move for a while.”
They cross through what looks and smells like a bar, liquor wafting off the sun-warmed floorboards. There’s one, maybe two, patrons in there, both of which working at the tables and chairs with hand towels and spray bottles of a noxious, lemon-scented, cleaner.
Maria and Remi talk above his head, shoving open a door and–
Golden light rolls over him, blinding and hot.
Sunlight.
He stumbles out onto the sidewalk, drinking in the high towers of apartment buildings and business corporations, the bustle of people crossing the streets. There’s no shortage of sound or smell or sight; As far as they eye can see, the world bustles with energy and movement.
Jasper shifts his cap, and only gets halfway; Instead, he marvels the feeling of prickling sunlight on the skin of his hand.
It’s been so long. His eyes droop shut, face tilted up to the sun.
Maria clears their throat and it occurs to him that his two companion’s conversation is dwindling into silence.
“I’ll go get the car.” Maria says, hands in their pockets, “Might take a minute.”
Remi thanks them, making no note of the slow, leisurely, pace that Maria leaves them with. It’s the first time that Jasper’s ever known Remi to be content with waiting, instead of moving as efficiently as possible for the time given.
Jasper puts it from his mind. Doesn’t even bother to reply, though he can feel the weight of eyes on him.
He just bathes in the sun.
It takes an extra five minutes for Maria to get the van, pulling slowly up onto the tarmac in front of them both; “Hop in,” Then, slapping the wheel, “Jasper, you want the front seat?”
“Yes.” He doesn’t think twice.
“Good, ‘cause Remi can’t drive unless you’re in the passenger side.”
The window down, the van rolling through the busy morning to afternoon traffic— Jasper drinks it all in greedily. Every street vendor, every stupid sidewalk argument, all of it.
He always wanted to go to São Paulo. Just to visit the city in all the papers and news headlines. This isn’t really what he expected, no, but it’s still the same city.
He strains his arm by sticking his head halfway out the window the whole ride there.
Remi scribbles away at his notebook, brows bent in concentration.
“Jesus, can you not go anywhere without bringing work?” Maria drawls, wicking condensation off their fingers.
“Someone has to write a report.” Remi snips back, “It certainly isn’t going to be you.”
Within seconds of entering, Maria had already jumped to get their order, rattling off two drinks for both them and Remi. Sliding their glasses up their nose, they plop back into their seat.
“I write great reports.” Maria takes a languid sip of iced coffee, “I wrote my team’s mission reports for years.”
“Consistency doesn’t mean quality.”
Maria purses their lips, “It does when you consistently write better mission reports.”
Remi’s eyes narrow, “Do you wanna write the mission report, then?”
“God, no. That’s grunt work.” They laugh, leaning back in their seat. Maria passes Jasper the clipboard menu, holding it out. “Pick something already.”
“I don’t have any money.” Jasper puffs, scratching at his nape, “I don’t really know what half of this stuff is anyway.”
Remi raises a brow in his peripheral.
“Obviously we’re buying. Don’t be modest. Pick something out.” Maria wiggles the laminated papers at him.
“I’m serious.” Jasper insists under his breath, shuffling in place.
Maria snorts, “Okay– You know what coffee is.”
“Half of this isn’t coffee it’s–” Jasper gestures rapidly to the collective list as a whole, whispering, “I don’t fuckin’ know!”
Aguiar drank coffee, sure, but it was black coffee– The grounds from the cheapest can at the store. He ran it through a drip and drank a single cup over the course of a day. Needless to say, whatever a Latte Baileys is was not commonplace.
“My god– Do you like sweet flavors?”
Jasper sputters, eventually shrugging. “I– Yeah.”
“Very sweet?”
He thinks for a moment. “Sure.” One time, Aguiar told him he had a sweet-tooth. Though, coming from Aguiar, he wasn’t sure of the veracity.
Maria hums, nodding, “Alright. Affogato it is.”
Okay. Sure. Jasper has no idea what that means, but it makes Remi groan.
“You’re gonna kill him with a sugar rush.”
“What are you, a doctor?” Maria snarks back, “No? Ahh, right, yes– See, I’m the one with medical training–”
Remi writes faster with a curled lip; “Insubordinate, combative–”
“And don’t act like I don’t see you buy brigadeiros all the time–”
“-- Requesting a change and that they be replaced immediately–”
“You love me.” Maria runs their hand along Remi’s shoulders as they pass behind him to the counter, “You would have no idea what to do without me, querido. Remember that.”And they press a chaste kiss to the crown of his head, leaning against the back of his chair.
Remi waves them off, albeit not trying hard. “We’re working.” He reminds them stiffly.
“Undercover.” Maria says, “Most couples kiss in public.”
“Did you forget I’m holding Jasper’s hand?” Remi drawls.
Maria shrugs. “It’s a modern era.” They sneak one last kiss to his temple, “I’ll be back.”
Through the sunglasses, it’s hard to tell, but Jasper swears by the pink that flushes Remi’s cheeks, a grin loose on his face. Even his shoulders seem to droop.
He continues to scribble away without a word.
Lit by the slats of midday sun that cut across the large open glass walls, Remi cuts a figure of domesticity. Loved, relaxed, and clear in his focus. It feels almost too intimate for Jasper to be a part of, and he wishes he had the freedom to leave him be. To relish in it.
Jasper is lucky enough to recognize the comfort of company. He’s lucky enough to mourn it’s loss.
“It’s not a secret.” Remi says, not looking up. So you can’t hold this over us, comes unsaid in his guarded tone.
Defensiveness curls in his gut. “I don’t care.” Then, searching, he asks, “I didn’t realize, that’s all.”
“We try to– Rather, I try to– keep it on the downlow while we’re working. Makes things complicated otherwise.” He flips a page.
“I thought you two hated each other.” It’s a stretch, but not by a lot. Jasper assumed they tolerated one another, that’s all. He wouldn’t have put money on them being in love or… whatever this was. That familiarity that oozes out of their movements like they’ve known each other for decades.
“No. We don’t. Actually the direct opposite. Though they do infuriate me.” He huffs, shaking his head lightly.
Jasper hums thoughtfully. “I get it.” In a similar, though not parallel, vein, it’s akin to how Jasper felt with Aguiar. There’s no immediate signs that they were close, or even happy to be in the same space as one another– Aguiar wasn’t one for outward signs of positivity or affection.
Jasper can count on one hand how many times the man hugged him, and none of which were readily returned.
But there was never any doubt in Jasper’s mind that Aguiar cared. Never.
He turns to watch Maria pace through the line, chattering away with the barista behind the counter.
“We don’t have to hold hands anymore.” Jasper admits, skirting his gaze to Remi when the courage hits him.
“Is it too warm?” Remi asks, distractedly.
“No. But I figured… Maria, right?” If it weren’t for him, maybe it’d be Maria’s hand he’d be holding instead.
Remi snorts. He takes a long sip of coffee, “I don’t know if you remember, but it was Maria’s idea for us to hold hands in the first place. It certainly doesn’t bother them.”
“But does it bother you?” The words tumble out before Jasper can stop them.
Milk steamers hiss and bubble, coffee grinding from bean to powder. Remi taps his pen against the table, “If it bothered me,” He begins, “I wouldn’t have done it.”
And Jasper almost– almost– calls him out on it. On his non-answer.
A yes or no would suffice, but Remi feels the need to circle the point like water swirling down a drain and why? For what point? Every clarity, hurtful or not, he’s given to Jasper without any need for obfuscation. Hard truths were their linking point.
And only now, he plays coy? To what, to save his feelings? It feels a little late for that. It’s a no, it doesn’t bother him, but without the definitiveness of a no. A verbal juke.
Amidst his frustration, Remi asks, “And you?” His cheek is propped on the heel of his palm, elbow resting on the tabletop. He’s frustratingly calm for someone who’s sent Jasper’s intuition into a tailspin, “Does it bother you?”
Does it bother him?
Jasper fingers the threads of his hoodie sleeve.
“The handcuffs do.”
A clink, and Maria places a small platter and a drink in front of him. He balks at the glass, “Maria– Ice cream?”
“Gelato, actually,” They correct him, sliding back into their seat, “Watch this.” With a single, swift, movement, Maria picks up the small steel pitcher and pours it over the ice cream. Espresso tingles the inside of his nose, steaming hot as it melts the ice cream away into a pool of warm coffee-colored mixture.
Jasper watches, mesmerized. They stir it all together, pushing it back in his direction, “Drink up, querido.” They say, winking, “I also grabbed some pastries. Pastels, queijo quente– Dig in.”
He pulls the drink close, the allure of coffee and the sweet-bitter scent egging him on.
Maria was right. He is a fan of sweet coffee.
“Oh god,” Jasper gasps after many long drinks, “I’m gonna be bouncing off the walls.” He can already feel the caffeine setting in after so long without. His teeth sing with the high concentration of sugar.
Remi hums in thought, “We’ve got time before we head back. Maybe we can do a perimeter sweep.”
Maria pops the last bit of their pastry into their mouth, “Yeah, we’re scoping it. Showing Jasper the ropes. You’ve never been to Sao Paulo, right?”
He shakes his head, taking another sip. Fuck, that’s good.
“There we have it. We’ll run off the extra energy.” Maria chirps, “Y’know, before you know it, we’ll be out here all the time. Missions, sure, but just to hang out too. I’ll show you all my favorite places– All the dingy bars too. Jasper, you have to do a bar crawl with me!”
“Don’t get too excited. There’s still lots of time before we get instated for our first mission–”
Jasper lets the bickering become background noise. He inspects their interlinked hands once more.
A rock lodges in his throat. Fuck.
Aguiar had only so many last words. He can hear them as presently as he feels his touch, Jasper clawing at his back like he’s trying to bury himself under his ribs. Desperation of a frightened rabbit thumping his heart. He’s no warrior, he’s no killer, he’s nothing like Aguiar and it’ll kill them both.
“So long as you’re not kneeling, it’s not surrender. Do not let them keep you here. Do what you have to.”
He gently places the drink back down.
Jasper slides his eyes shut and considers, for the first time; What if he can’t?