Chains Eyelessjack X Reader

Chapter 41

{Reader's POV}

       "No... no... crap... come on, it doesn't look like that...!"

       I rolled my eyes as I read my book, listening to Jack curse under his breath. Once again we were in the clearing. This time, though, we weren't repairing dummies. Jack had decided to make new ones from scratch, bringing me along so I could get some fresh air and stop yelling at the TV about how stupid the plot twists were. (Spoiler: Ellen and Ricardio were long-lost siblings. That made the family reunion VERY awkward. Getting stranded on a desert island did not ease the tension.)

       However, while I was content with my book, it was growing clearer that Jack probably shouldn't be making dummies. Not because he wasn't skilled at it. The guy knows a lot about anatomy and is a pretty good surgeon—I'm living proof of that—so making a dummy wasn't too hard for him. His problem was how much of a perfectionist he was. I sighed as I glanced up from my book to see him groaning as he tried to shape the fluff inside a leg.

       "No, no, no, that's too lumpy," he muttered, no doubt scowling as he pushed on the gray "sleeve" he was using for the leg. "It needs to be smoother here, and rise a bit under the knee..." He kept muttering under his breath, but no matter what he did it just looked like a gray sleeve full of fluff with a sock on the end. Sighing, he emptied the fluff onto the ground so he could start over.

       "Jack, why are you putting so much effort into a leg?" I asked. My remark earned a cold glare from him, or at least I assumed that's what he did as his head snapped to look at me. As usual, the mask made it somewhat hard to tell.

       "It needs to be accurate," he grumbled as he lowered his gaze to the dummy, picking up fluff and shoving it inside the sleeve he used for the leg. "It keeps coming out wrong..."

       "I get that. I do, really... It's just... well... it doesn't seem to have a point." I shrugged. "I mean, I didn't go to med school or anything, but I'm pretty sure there aren't any organs in the leg." This earned another DEFINITELY cold glare from Jack, making me wince and shrink back.

       "Of course there aren't any organs in the leg. That would be stupid from an anatomical point of view. But I need the leg to be accurate anyway! Now stretch out your leg so I can use it as a model!" With that he gave me an expectant look, making me roll my eyes as I stretched out one of my legs as told.

       As he resumed work I went back to reading, trying to ignore his occasional cursing as he pricked himself with a needle or failed to shape something into the proper shape. He hadn't even started on the torso yet, he was just working on the limbs and using me as a model. If it were anyone else, I'd think they were using this as an excuse to check me out or something. But not Jack. I was starting to think he didn't retain the typical aesthetics of straight human males when he lost his humanity.

       After I'd read five more chapters Jack groaned and abruptly rose, dropping the arm he'd been messing with. "Screw this, I'm taking a break." He marched over and sat next to me, leaning his head onto my shoulder. I gave a start and looked at him in surprise.

       "Uh, what are you doing?" I asked, my face turning slightly red.

       "Taking a break," he grumbled. "Weren't you listening?"

       "Uh, yeah, I was. But, uh... why are you leaning on my shoulder?"

       "I need a pillow."

       "...You literally have a pillowcase over there and about twenty pounds of fluff."

       "If I use that, the fluff will lose its sturdiness. It'll be softened and crushed under the weight of my head. I need it to be weathered and made sturdier. Your shoulder's a better alternative." He spoke matter-of-factly and shrugged, while I just stared at him in disbelief. After a while I sighed and shook my head, deciding not to fight it. Sighing, I finally just resumed reading my book, doing my best to ignore him. It just wasn't worth fighting.

       After a while of reading silently, I had reached the story's climax when I suddenly felt Jack slump against me. Casting him a curious glance, I quickly realized he'd fallen asleep. This prompted me to quickly close my book and set it aside, catching Jack before he could fall or slide off me. Seeing as there weren't many options, I carefully repositioned him and set his head on my lap, crossing my legs to make a better "pillow" for him. As I stared down at him he curled up, moving slightly closer to me. A soft smile tugged at my lips at the sight, and I gave a small sigh as I fell deep into thought.

       When did my life get to this point? It felt like just yesterday Jack would be scaring me for fun. No, more than that, it felt like just yesterday I was back at my old house joking around with Buddy or reading on the porch. That whole time, though, Jack had been in the basement, chained to a wall and losing hope with each passing day. Just thinking about it made my smile fade, a shudder running down my spine as I recalled the photos on Buddy's account, portraying every gruesome stage of Jack's torture.

       None of my memories of my old life were sweet anymore. All of them were tainted, with the knowledge that while I was having happy times Buddy was putting Jack through hell. Though my new life had many bitter ones, I knew the good ones were just that—good. No lies or deceit under them, no doubts about them, just genuine happiness and amusement as Jack failed at cooking or we bonded over a movie.

       As I thought about this I heard a small whimper. My eyes fell down on Jack as I felt him give a single twitch. Slowly I reached out and gently removed his mask, revealing his face. It was twisted with despair as he twitched again, giving another small whimper. A bad dream, obviously. He was probably dreaming about his captivity again. I frowned at the thought, thinking of the photos once more.

       I had to wake him up.

       Taking a deep breath, I slowly put my arms on his shoulders. He stiffened at the contact, his face scrunching in even more fear. Another quiet whimper escaped him, making me frown. "Jack," I said softly, gently shaking him. "Jack, wake up...! Get up, you're having a nightmare...!" His soft whimpering continued, as did his twitching. My frown changed into a grimace as I shook him a little harder. "Jack, please! Jack! Come on!"

       As I shook him my voice gradually grew louder, my shaking harder. a sort of panic starting to set in. The longer he slept, the worse his fidgeting and whimpering became. It was clear he was having an awful nightmare, and the whole time I kept thinking of the photos and video. Was it the total sensory block? The experiments with feeding him? Something I hadn't seen yet? I didn't know, and that just made my panic worse. I needed to wake him up, now.

       "Jack!"

       At that moment, as I gave him a final, hard shake, his eyes popped open, revealing the empty black voids behind his lids. Relief flowed through me at the sight, knowing I'd saved him from another awful nightmare.

       And that was when he shot up and wrapped his hands around my neck.