{Jack's POV}
When Jack woke up, he was greeted with a sharp pain in his head. He grunted softly as he shifted into a sitting position, putting a hand to his head and blinking his eyes almost as soon as he opened them. Too bright... Moaning softly, he waited a few moments before opening them again, more slowly this time. Soon enough his eyes adjusted to the too-bright light, revealing himself to be in the hall outside the bathroom.
What happened...? Staggering to his feet, he put a hand on the wall for support as he groaned softly, the other firmly stuck to his head. A familiar scent taunted his nose, one he instantly recognized and which answered all his unasked questions: alcohol.
Oh, yeah. He got drunk last night to stop thinking about [Name].
...Then what?
As he thought about it he recalled his last thought, how the brain doesn't record blackouts, and couldn't help smirking at the irony. He started to chuckle but winced due to the pain it caused. Shit, this was one hell of a hangover... How much did he drink last night? He recalled filling a tub with some unidentified alcohol to dunk livers after so many bottles of vodka, and when he went to check he would've smacked his forehead if not for the headache. There was alcohol spilled all over the floor, the tub tilted. Clearly he'd tried to drink straight out of it at some point.
Sighing, he got cleaning supplies to start cleaning the mess. Crap, the floor was probably permanently stained, wasn't it? No matter how much he scrubbed some of the stain still lingered, making him scowl and grit his teeth. Oh, come on... Why was he even trying to get it out? Not like anyone ever visited. He didn't care, and [Name] probably wouldn't...
Suddenly he tensed. Wait... What else did he do last night...? Inhaling slowly, he headed for the cabinet, quietly getting a can of [fav soup]. Even as he put a pot on the stove he could see his hands shaking, worry and concern filling him. What if he...? No, he couldn't have... Grabbing his mask, he shakily carried the finished bowl of soup to the operating room, his pace slower than usual.
When he opened the door, he peered inside to see [Name] lying on her side, her back to him. His heart skipped a beat as he caught the scent of alcohol, confirming he had, indeed, been in there. Hours seemed to pass as he stood there staring at her, waiting for some kind of sign of life. Soon enough, though, he saw a minuscule movement as her side rose and fell. Breathing. She's alright. Relief washed over him as he stepped inside, closing the door quietly.
He approached her slowly, trying not to make too much sound. He didn't smell any blood... So he hadn't hurt her? But what happened then? Stopping by the operating table, he couldn't help noticing she hadn't really reacted to his arrival. Hesitantly he leaned over the table, and gave a small sigh of relief as he saw that she was just asleep. Quietly he switched out the bowl for the one already present, the soup still untouched, though he was happy to note that the water bottles he'd left were empty. As he moved to leave he noticed something glint out of the corner of his eyes, and turned only to cringe as he saw glass shards against one of the walls.
What DID he do last night?
Ignoring it for the moment, he left, just relieved he hadn't hurt her. Returning to the living room, he gave a happy sigh as he sunk into the couch, though he quickly cringed as he felt a renewed round of pain in his head. "Come on..." he grumbled, pressing a hand to his head, and leaned back with a sigh.
For a while he just sat there, waiting for the headache to subside. At some point he dozed off, and when he awoke he glanced at the clock to see an hour had passed. His nap had cleared his mind a bit, making the pain much weaker, and after a while he got up. Rolling his neck around and stretching to get rid of any cricks, he turned and headed for the operating room. Time to check on [Name] again...
{Reader's POV}
I sat hunched on the table as usual when I heard the door open. Shifting my head ever so slightly, I saw the familiar outline of Jack's form as he closed the door, looking at me and sighing. "[Name]... You need to eat..."
"Not hungry," I muttered, burying my face in my arms.
"It's been two days and you haven't eaten one bite..." I didn't respond, and he sighed again. My mind wandered back to last night, how he'd been so upset. His words bounced around my mind: "Please don't keep closing me out... Please... Don't hate me..." Slowly I shifted my head a bit, just enough to peek at him. His back was to me, bent over the shattered remains of the bottle with a dustpan. I watched him silently, deep in thought.
"...What did you do to me...?" He abruptly tensed, slowly turning his head to look at me.
"...What...?"
"When I was in my room... And you jabbed me with that needle... When you brought me here... What did you do to me...?" He didn't respond right away, so I continued, my voice soft and wavering. "You took something from me... I know you did... What was it?" As I spoke it felt like my voice was ready to crack, just asking made me feel like crying, but I needed to know, everything he did to me, what happened in this dark and bloody room.
After what seemed like eons he finally spoke, his voice soft. "[Name]... Before I tell you, I need you to promise me... not to panic or freak out..." I didn't respond, just stared at him in silence, and after a moment he gave a small sigh. "Please..."
"I'm not making any promises," I said, my voice hollow. "Just tell me." He looked at me for a moment before sighing.
"...Your appendix... I removed your appendix."
I'd been expecting him to say something like that, but the news still hit me like a brick. My stomach lurched a bit as I stared at him in shock, his words sinking in slowly. My mind flashed back to the night I'd locked him in my room, and I felt tears prick my eyes as I recalled one of his threats—appendectomy. Clenching my hands into fists, I gritted my teeth and bit back a sob.
"So that's it? Appendectomy? That's my punishment?"
"[Name]—"
"I didn't tell you a stupid password, and you take out my appendix!?" Tears streamed down my face at this point as I glared at him, my vision blurring. "It was just a stupid password! It's not worth cutting me open and taking a snack! Nothing's worth that!"
"No, [Name], it's not like that—"
"I wish I left you in that fucking basement to die!" My yells seemed to echo through the room, and as I stared at Jack I could tell it hard, his whole body seeming to freeze. For a long moment he didn't react, just stayed there.
Then he lunged at me.
Before I could react he had me pinned, my wrists above my head and a hand clamped over my mouth. Tears pricked my eyes as I struggled, making him growl. "Will you just shut up and listen to me! I didn't remove your freaking appendix as punishment! I would NEVER hurt you like that for any reason, no matter how mad I was! I removed it because you had APPENDICITIS!"
I stared at him in shock, my eyes wide. Appendicitis? Breathing heavily, he slowly removed his hand from my mouth and released my wrists, stepping back. Slowly I sat up, unable to stop staring at him.
"I... I what...?"
"Appendicitis," he repeated, his voice calmer, and took a deep breath. "The fever, the cramps in your side... All symptoms of appendicitis. When you collapsed in your room, it was just the worst pain pangs yet. It didn't rupture yet, but it was only a matter of time." His words sunk in slowly, sounding so hard to believe.
"...But... I thought it was supposed to be... you know, sudden..."
"You had chronic appendicitis. There was one case that went undetected for three years, they just kept writing it off as other things or a mental thing." He sighed. "The appendix isn't a vital organ... No one even knows why we have it. I've heard theories it was possibly an evolution thing for digesting rocks or something, but... Removing it isn't a big deal. It won't change your life. However, it's still a major operation. Recovery takes time."
He walked over and lifted one of my hands, tracing patterns into the palm of the mitten. I tensed but didn't pull away, just watched him warily. "When you woke up and started freaking out, clawing at the bandages, I was worried you'd open the wound... I panicked and sedated you before you could do anything bad... And then I restrained you and put on the mittens, just in case." He sighed and let go of my hand, allowing it to drop to the table.
"Please, understand... I'm not mad at you... I never was... I'm just... Seeing you on the floor like that, holding your side and looking like you were about to cry... It scared me, so, so much... I thought it had ruptured, that I was too late..." His voice was soft, sounding as if it would crack any moment, and he looked away. As I stared at him silently, watching his body tremble lightly, it finally clicked...
He won't hurt me.
The realization hit me slowly. Not once had he thought of me as a snack, as prey. Though humans were his prey, and he feasted on our organs... I was different. This whole time, when I'd been in here, wondering when I'd die, he'd been waiting for me to get better, just quietly crying to himself. No wonder he'd gotten himself drunk last night. I never gave him a chance to explain, just assumed the worst.
Before I knew it I had my arms wrapped around him, feeling him tense in shock. "I'm sorry," I whispered, giving him a small squeeze. "I should have let you explain... I shouldn't have just assumed you tortured me... Jack, I'm sorry... And thank you so much..." He stood in silence, his body stiff, but soon he relaxed and slowly returned the embrace.
In that moment, at long last, I knew everything was right again.