Jack of My Heart

The End

"Jack, Jack, oh please wake up," A voice begs, hands resting on my shoulders. I feel numb all over, my face being the only thing with feeling. My busted lip burns and my nose is yelling at me in pain.
"Vincent," I breathe, barely able to get even his name out.
"Oh thank god, oh Jack, you're alive! Uh, Vincent, yeah. He just stepped out but I'm sure I could get him back in here in a minute," The voice reassures me. My eyes flutter open, my forehead scrunched from the exertion. When I open them, I can see Archer holding one hand, his other resting on my shoulder.
"Wh-Where am I?" I look around, head whipping back and forth as I panic and hyperventilate.
"Woah, hey, you're okay! You're in the hospital. Take it easy," Archer's voice is soothing, but I can't calm down until I get the answers to the questions beating my brain.
"Vincent's okay? Where's Edwin? Where's the other victim?" I fire off my questions, sitting up straight in the bed.
"Yes, Vincent's fine. Worse he had was a bump on his head. Edwin is the creepy blonde one? He's in custody right now, the police captain took him away himself. The other victim is in the next room over, they're unconscious. You need to take a deep breath and calm down, you'll rip open one of your wounds." Archer lightly pushes me back onto the bed.
"I can't feel anything. I'm fine." I shake my head and try to stand up. Archer laughs and rubs my shoulder.
"That's because you're on about forty pounds of pain medication right now. I bet I could amputate your leg while you're awake and you wouldn't feel it," He chuckles. His words remind me of Edwin's quip about shooting me twenty–seven times and I flinch back, chest heaving. "Woah, I'm not actually going to amputate your leg. You're okay, you're safe. I hate to leave you, but I'll be right back."
Archer gets up slowly, looking at me with pity until he's out of sight. I can't keep my breathing under control, I can't calm down. What if I'm hallucinating that I'm safe? I can't let my guard down. A few minutes later, Archer comes back into the room, Vincent in tow. When he sees me sitting up he bounds past Archer and throws his arms around my neck in a loose hug, hand cradling the back of my head. I can see a large, square, white bandage at the top of his head. His black hair falling over it.
"Wh-" I cough, then harden my scowl, "What did he do to you?"
Vincent lets me go a little bit, looking confused then following my gaze as best he can.
"What? This? This is nothing!" Vincent laughs, then rests his hand on my back. I feel nothing, but I know it's there. "Nothing compared to this. I'm so sorry, Jack. I tried to stop him before he could finish, but he was done before I could get free."
I can see the redness from where the heavy chains chafed his neck under his sweater. He must've gotten a change of clothes, since the others had my blood all over them.
"I'm sorry, Vincent." I hang my head in shame. If I hadn't have been so afraid, if I-
"No. Don't let him win. You are so much stronger than him. We are so much stronger than him." Vincent cups my face in his hands, brushing a thumb across my lips.
"I didn't want him to, I swear I didn't want him to—I tried to stop him, I didn't-" I start, tears welling in my eyes and dropping onto the mint green hospital blanket as I squeeze them shut, unable to look at Vincent.
"I know, darling, I know. You have no idea how hard it was not to kill him when I got free. But he asked me if that's what you would've wanted and I realized: no. You would've wanted to do it yourself."
I laugh, wiping the tears from my eyes and settling further into the bed.
"Oh, what about Frank Cafre?" I sit back up, eyes wide open.
"He has a trial on Tuesday. We're his new defense." Vincent squeezes my hands. I nod with appreciation and close my eyes.
"What now?"

Over the next few weeks I get visits from Chuck, Archer, Laney Tolsford, Dr. Cassidy, Captain Singer, and even Detective Danowitz. Archer stays in my apartment while I'm in the hospital but Vincent never leaves my side, unless he's getting us snacks. I help him work on Frank's case and Vincent presents it to the court, and wins with the help of my Skyped in witness testimony.
Frank visits me too, bringing me hot chocolate and cookies, and playing cards with me. At first I can't even look at the deck without getting horrible flashbacks and panic attacks, but Frank comes prepared the next time and brings a constellation deck with the suits replaced by stars. Vincent drives me home when I get discharged, helping me hobble up to my apartment. Archer, Chuck, and Frank are waiting for me when we arrive with pizza, cookies, card games, and movies. I wince as I rub a finger over the Jack of Clubs but quickly hide it. Vincent notices though and takes my hand, rubbing his thumb over mine.
The carving in my back is of a massive Club. I was supposed to be his last victim. Edwin is the Ace of Clubs, I'm the Jack. Clever really. I wonder if he targeted me just because I'm named-
"Jack." Frank waves his hand in front of my face. I didn't realize I had zoned out. I've been doing that a lot recently. Either zoning out or thinking I'm in that... that place.
"Just give him a minute," Chuck lays a hand on Frank's arm, gently pushing it back down. Frank's cheeks burn a bright red as he mumbles an apology. I shake my head and put on a big smile.
"It's okay. I'm here." I give them the signal that I didn't go back to the building. Chuck fixes me with a wide grin and nods at the cards in my hand.
"Your play," She tells me, giving me a mischievous wink as she settles into Frank's shoulder. They met while visiting me and 'hit it off' and they've been together ever since. We play a few rounds, I win, and we watch the Captain Flavian series, much to Archer's embarrassment. I'm settled on the couch in Archer's arms. He's been really clingy lately, making sure that he's with me everywhere I go.
I think he blames himself for my getting kidnapped, and no matter how many times I try to tell him that it's not his fault, he just smiles and doesn't respond. I look over at the other end of the couch where Vincent sits on the floor, cradling a throw pillow in his arms. I smile softly as I watch excitement and delight play in his big black eyes. He must feel my gaze because he glances over at me, giving me the same expression I'm giving him. I blow him a kiss and he grabs it, then pretends to put it in his pocket. I mouth at him how cheesy that was, but he just rolls his eyes and waves me off, mouthing back 'you loved it and you know it.' I mouth back 'I do.'

A couple hours later, Chuck and Frank leave, followed by Archer's reluctant departure to a hotel. He triple checks my locks and makes sure that Vincent has a weapon and will not leave my side for anything. I release a hefty sigh when everyone's gone, crashing onto the sofa.
"Come on, time for a bandage change." Vincent gingerly helps me up, letting me lean on him as we both walk into my cramped bathroom. I take off my shirt and he holds his hair back, and we clean each other's wounds and replace each other's bandages. He lifts me up, setting me on the counter and wrapping an ace bandage around my stomach and chest, covering my injuries on my back. Vincent rests a hand on the large square bandage covering the knife wound with a sorrowful expression. His eyes are dark, his lips curled down.
"We'll get through this, my dear." I run one hand through his hair, using the other to gently let him lift his head to look at me. Ever since the kidnapping he's had to do everything himself. If someone tries to control his movement or what he does he gets shaky and can't talk for a couple hours. We're both a little broken, a little bruised, but we'll get better, together. Soon it won't hurt as bad, and the flashbacks won't happen so often. I won't feel the cold bite of the chains and he won't feel the haze of the mystery drug.
"I know, darling. We must." He stands back up, pressing our foreheads together. His hands are planted firmly on either side of my legs, and he's still bent a little bit. He leans in and presses his lips to mine, nearly pushing me back into the sink. We laugh after I've latched onto his neck, legs wrapping around his mid-stomach.
Playfully, I pull him closer and kiss him passionately, our teeth bumping against each other awkwardly. His hand snakes around to the back of my head and he leads my mouth to his, gently closing the distance between us. His practiced lips eagerly rove over mine, straying to my cheek bone, my jaw, my neck. I can't stop a shudder from rippling through me and a soft exhale from escaping me. Vincent grins at this, lowering himself to bite my collarbone, leaving a red mark and a sweet soreness. He returns to my face, showering me in kisses and compliments, a few muttered apologies tossed into the bunch. I return them with apologies of my own, then shake my head. Not the time. His tongue swiftly moves to meet mine, startling me at first, but then becoming a rhythmic comfort. In this moment, I'm unable to think of anything but the dashing man in front of me, and there's nothing and no one I'd rather think about.
When we finally have to break for air, I rest my head on his shoulder, and he rests his on mine. I don't want to leave him, and luckily I won't have to for a while. I've gotten past the point of hoping I don't bother him, of being afraid of what he thinks of me after learning more about him and spending more time with him. We've been through so much, and we've been through it together. I owe him my life in more than one account, and I love him like a sailor loves the sea.
"Vincent," I say softly, arms still wrapped around him as he helps me down from the countertop.
"Hm?"
"Are we okay?" I ask, looking up into the inky pools of warmth. He looks down at me, blinks, then smiles.
"We're okay. We'll be okay," He promises, picking me up and carrying me away.