Glass Eye (Eyeless Jack X Reader)

Chapter Forty-Three

I had no choice but to agree with Tim, and that meant siding with him as well. As I took a few steps further forward, I positioned myself beside the seething Tim, my hand lightly teasing the handle of my single hatchet. Though my second one was busy being buried into the skull of Jeff, I wasn't afraid to lose the last one burying it into the skull of Brian. He had hurt one of the only people I had grown to care about in many, many years, and it appeared that I hadn't been the only one to feel that way.

Jack, sensing the anger burning from within me, snapped his gaze to meet my own with an unsettling intensity as he mouthed the words 'Not now'.

"She needs fucking help, assholes!"

The woman within the group that I hadn't recognized spoke, her voice cracking from searing rage and unbridled sadness, rang throughout the steadily brightening forest; she was almost screaming her words.

In the silence following, glares had definitely been exchanged between Tim, myself, and Brian, until finally, Tim's eyes met my own, and in that moment, we shared a nod. Brian wasn't stupid, and we both knew it, but if he assumed for even one single second that it was over, he had wasted the energy just conjuring such a thought.

"Get fucking moving! Now!"

If it had been under any other circumstance, either Tim or I would have most likely killed the woman without hesitation for giving such orders in such a disrespectful way, but considering the state of (Name), we brushed it off and listened.

Though she was clearly in an unstable condition, somewhere deep inside, I knew she'd more than make it. If she wasn't dead already from the fatal chest wound, I doubted she'd die any time soon, especially with that wretched mark upon her fingertip.

Looking up into the sky briefly before continuing on the path, I let out a deep sigh. We had all played a part in letting it go every single mile of too far, and now, we had no choice but to ride along with her for the last mile. I knew, and I was sure that they all knew as well, that when she woke up, she'd never be the same (Name). We had all played a part in making her that way. Had we had any right to question the integrity of our Operator for forcing us to become someone else if we had, in turn, done the same exact thing? Had we really cared for her in the sense that we had thought we did? Had we even thought about what she'd experience, what'd she feel, even for the briefest of moments?

If we loved her, we would have. But we didn't love her, per sey; we needed her. And in her own way, she needed us.

--Jack POV--

I had barely broken past the threshold of the front door before I had began to angrily scream for him.

If she had been right about anything in her life, it was that a meeting with the Operator was more than necessary at this point, more so now than ever before.

I had watched her die, and I had watched her take a breath again, all in the same second. What I had desperately wished to keep her away from had been allowed to walk right in the front door of my home; he'd pay dearly for what he had done.

"Help her,"

I called out to him, knowing he was here, knowing he could hear my pleas. He knew what he had done, what he had allowed to be done, and he knew how to fix it. I had seen the mark, I knew what it meant, I knew the weight behind such a little engraving.

She would have her choice taken from her, as did I. I had been working against myself so tirelessly, trying not to corrupt her, that I had left other angles defenseless for harm to still reach her through.