𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑆𝑢𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑜𝑛-𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒜𝓇𝓉𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒟ℴ𝒹𝑔ℯ𝓇//ʲᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵃʷᵏⁱⁿˢ

𝙴𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

ℐ𝓉'𝓈 𝒶𝓈𝓉ℴ𝓃𝒾𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽ℴ𝓌 𝓈ℴ𝓂ℯ 𝓅ℯℴ𝓅𝓁ℯ 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒸𝒶𝓇ℯ 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝒾𝓇 𝓌𝒽ℴ𝓁ℯ 𝒷ℯ𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓈ℴ𝓂ℯ𝒷ℴ𝒹𝓎 𝓌𝒽ℴ 𝒸ℴ𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒸𝒶𝓇ℯ 𝒶 𝓅ℯ𝓃𝓃𝓎． 𝑀.𝐽.𝑇

THIRD

𝑀𝐴𝑅𝐼𝐸 𝑅𝑂𝑆𝐸 𝑇𝑈𝑅𝑁𝐸𝐷 𝑇𝑂 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐺𝐴𝐿𝐿𝑂𝑊𝑆， she still seemed to be gobsmacked at how people could be sitting here watching the gruesome murder the Gallows were being held for—she was astounded at how so many villagers could go out of their way, into their lives on hold for a moment to watch a man's life come to an end.

The evaded her gaze back to Nicholas as his statement filled the air, she wasn't surprised how the boys had come accustomed to the gruesome sights of the hanging's only because since they lived by the street majority of their lives, but she was certainly shocked by the way Nicholas was so calm about the situation. Most kids would turn away from the sight of someone's life being taken away—but Nicholas, he was so used to the sights and sounds that he could just simply continue on with his day. She felt awful for the young teen who'd probably go to sleep thinking of the terrors he'd witnessed.

Marie-Rose frowned, looking around the public to notice people cheering from the side lines—cheering. They're cheering for somebody's life to end, for the executioner to pull the leaver and let the body drop. The noose was intended for torture, for punishment, and yet, the entire town were all cheering for what would be the last moments of the guys life. Marie-Rose linked an arm over the boys shoulder,  looking to offer a sense of security. "One thing's for sure is that he won't suffer for too long," Although she knew that was against everything she had studied in the laws of medical science, she didn't want the boys to worry—they didn't need to know that the entire point of the noose was for torture—their father was hung a few years prior and they didn't need to know he suffered like this man would too.

Zachary Bennet fell into the habit of stealing for his sons. Although he tried to benefit his family through his steady job, that steady job soon fell below the standard when his wife passed through child birth. There a was a complication during Henry's birth and she bled out on the bed—there was nothing the head surgeon could do, the haemorrhage had prevented her body from healing and she passed quickly—barely getting the chance to hold her new born son. 

Nicholas was handed the baby as Mrs. Bennet fell into a coma, the white sheets tainted red as her husband came through the wooden door of their hospital room. Then when Zachary saw the state of the room, he could've sworn it was wine rather than his wife's blood.

That's as he saw her lifeless face, the once golden complexion had been replaced by a light shade of grey, he once gorgeous green eyes had faded to a dull emerald. He was then left alone with two children under the age of four, sporting a full time job and no family—he made sacrifices, leaning to Alcohol to get through the day.

When the hangs man pulled the wooden leaver, she pulled Henry into her side, blocking his vision from the execution and covered his ears with her palms from the man's strangled pleas. She shut her own eyes to hopefully escape the reality of such gore. A brief moment later, the eldest Bennet brother is in a sprint to the front, slipping off below the limp man and snatching his shoes from his dangling feet. Mary tilts her head questioningly, releasing the younger Bennet from her side. "How much do you get from those?"

"You'd be surprised, the way customers are going? At least two schillings—business is good for us lately. Old Johnny doesn't notice the shoes are from a dead guy," He grins down proudly at the leather boots on his hands.

So after the passing of their father, it was left to Nicholas to decide what would happen to his family. He decided he wanted the best for his brother and rather than living in the crime filled streets, he made a name for himself. Not a rather trusted one, but he made a name for himself—he earned his money, sort of.

"That's because he's blind, bud—Old Johnny doesn't notice a lot even on his good days."

Old Johnny lived up to his name, he was an old and blind, shoe salesman down on the local cobbler store he'd inherited from his grandfather. Johnny was always an old blind grouch, he was actually quite nice to the kids, housed them, fed them, and offered them a job. He'd been looking after the family business for decades, but when the rental crisis hit the docks, he was forced to take any pairs of shoes he could get—he was a regular in the hospital because he lost his eye after a break in. He's a lovely old soul and hired the Bennet brothers to seek shoes for him in regards for a few schillings per day. He was a great man and lived on the streets in his teen years so he knew what it was like and instead of turning a blind eye—no pun intended—he offered them a job and a chance at a better life.

The rhythmic stomps of heavy and hurried footsteps come from her left, two hands sweep around her shoulders and she swings her gaze from the boys and to a sight she'd of sworn to never get sick of. She thought he had a shift at the hospital. "Jack?"

He grinned at the woman, his breath coming out in heavy heaves as he steadies his footing on the loose gravel below his feet. "Morning, love," His own gaze broke from her own and his vision trails around to his surroundings—his eyes darting around the crowd.

"Jack, you alright, sweetheart?" She first noticed the distant look in his eyes, then his well in truly ruffled up hair—as if he'd been running around like a maniac for the past hour—she wasn't far from the truth.

"Yeah, honey. Just running some errands—you haven't passed Darius recently, have you?"

Her bubbly exterior fell to a frown at the use of the name, internal lung cringing at the idea of once more coming across the singular man she despised. "Can't say I have. What's this about?"

"Just a friendly question," She let go of Henry who she felt began to wonder back to his brothers side, Mary reached up and held the side of the doctors face, the slight hint of pink catching her eye.

As she took the closer look, she noticed the reasoning behind the discolouration. She gently brushed her thumb over the forming bruise, her teeth tugging down into her bottom lip as Jack winced. "What did you do?"

"How'd you know I did something?" He rose a brow towards the woman, a teasing smile on his lips.

"People don't pick fights with you, you usually get yourself into them," She shrugged as if it was obvious, to be fair she wasn't wrong. It often annoyed Jack on how Marie-Rose could read him like one of her many, many books from her shelf. She wouldn't admit it, but she was quite the reader and often stayed up late between writing letters to reading them. She admired how words could hold such passion, how words can have one meaning for her whilst a whole different world for somebody else. Jack himself dreaded to catch a glimpse of a three hundred stack of words. In his case the words jumbled themselves up and were barely even on the page. Half the time he was so focused on how they were staying in lines when they were too busy dancing on the page.

When the two first met, Mary was offering Jack lessons towards reading in repayment for him to offer her lessons towards medical factsheets he received from his mentor. So whilst she was reading it out loud, he would be learning to read and Mary would be learning to manoeuvre a bullet from the abdomen.

The two had always found something to repay one another in, whether it's Jack returning home with a hand full of flowers he'd picked along the way home or it's Mary finishing early and popping in during one of his shifts at the hospital. They completely changed eachother for the better within the years of knowing one another, completing the other with the simplest of things and although the others insistent nature that they don't need any form of physical reassurance, they continue to against their wishes.