hospice || e.j.

six | jack spills his guts for the 2nd time

THE REST OF THE TRIP IS LESS AWKWARD, for the first half hour anyway.

Jack brings food, as he has promised: a standard McDonald's bag save for the large, suspiciously red splatter on the back.

"It's just ketchup," he shrugs dismissively when Marli pesters him about it, convincing no one. "Eat," he insists, pressing the bag onto her lap before retreating to his spot – back to the wall, smack dab in front of her.

Marli attempts a protesting groan, but her stomach beats her to it, to her mortification. She gingerly places a fry in her mouth, then another, and is already halfway through her Big Mac when she hears Jack, on the opposite side of the truck, emit a soft, rumbling sound.

It sounds like, dare she say it, a snore.

Despite her predicament, Marli's curiosity is piqued. Do undeads like EJ need sleep? Scratch that, can they even sleep? There's just so many questions she wants to ask the guy, especially now that she knows for sure some things exist beyond the realm of regular logic – things like him, for example. She balls up the burger wrapper and, impulsively, tosses it at EJ's head. The van wobbles, throwing her aim off, but if Jack saw anything he remained unmoved. Arms crossed, head slightly bowing downward, mask back on his face as always, it is impossible to tell if he's asleep or not.

Marli takes a deep breath, and ignoring her fear, scoots nearer to Eyeless Jack.

Keeping an eye on his – if any – movement, she quietly observes EJ at close up. He sits perfectly still, completely unmoving, though she figures it's because he doesn't actually have to breathe. With his hood down, the guy actually looks like a regular person – he has a suuuper basic haircut, for god's sake – save for a few off things: his mask (obviously), and as pinprick light shines through the slits on the carriage walls, his torn, serrated ears catch her attention.

Marli ogles curiously. They look like they've been bitten off in parts by a vicious opponent, or ripped up with a knife, though it's hard for Marli to envision anyone – or anything, for that matter – that could go toe-to-toe with Eyeless Jack. At the same time, she is overcome with an inexplicable urge to reach out, quietly now, to touch the tip of his ragged ear –

EJ grabs her by the wrist before she manages to. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Ow!" Marli yelps, from surprise rather than pain. "Let go, you brute," she says, snatching away as Jack eventually frees his grip. "Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

"I don't sleep," Jack tilts his head to the side. "I hibernate. That's what I usually do after feasting on the entrails of people who stick their nose where they don't belong," he says, voice low and ominous.

Then he reaches out and flicks Marli in the nose. "Like you," he adds impishly.

Marli flusters, completely thrown by the sudden attack. 

"Oh, ha-ha-ha. Threatening to kill me only works once, asshole. I know you're supposed to deliver me alive – and well – so you're not allowed to hurt me whatever I do. I'm not stuck with you, buddy. You're stuck with me."

"What are you going to do, stare at me to death?" EJ snorts, amused. "By the way, I can't read your emotions terribly well, on account of, you know, having no eyes, so if you absolutely need something, you're going to have to be vocal about it. Which, as you've so kindly demonstrated for the past four hours, you'll manage just fine, so thanks for that."

Marli is so close to punching the guy in his non-existent guts, but her curiosity won over. 

"Wait, wait. So what can you see, exactly? As far as I know you're not blind blind – I mean, you're not walking around with a cane or anything. So how'd that even work?"