• 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓕𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓓𝓸𝓭𝓰𝓮𝓻 (𝓓𝓪𝔀𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓼 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻) •

𝓓𝓪𝔂 𝓞𝓷𝓮 - 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓴𝓮𝓮 𝓓𝓸𝓭𝓰𝓮 (𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮)

After spending a few minutes with his fearful flashbacks and checking up on Champflower, Jack returned to his bedroom upstairs, seeing Fagin trying to bail out; his fragile body stuck between the window frame nearest to the bed. Y/N was sticking her nose into a medical book on human sciences; absorbing the information like the big bright sun in the sky to a blooming flower.

The surgeon stared at his former friend, uninterested, yet slightly concerned, "Are you breaking out?"

"Yep! Gotta sniff the place out, get a feel for it."

The lady looked up from her book, marking her page with her finger, staring at him curiously with her E/C orbs and watching the young man speaking in his usual silky tone to his old pickpocketing friend, forgetting about her, "You know we're on the second floor?"

"Yes, I realize that now, that's why I'm tryna get back in."

"Well, go on, then."

He knew that Jack was completely covered in the blood of Mr Hootens and was having an awful day so far, he blurted out something, trying not to make it worse, "I think my back seized up..and my hip..maybe my knee."

Y/N facepalmed with annoyance, "For fucks sake, Fagin. Try not to make the surgeon have a puffy cloud; full of frustration, be on top of that lovely head of his." As soon as she says that, the mattress dips slightly as the surgeon sits down beside her, on the complete verge of silent tears. He leaned on her, head on her shoulder, sleeves still stained with red plasma.

She kinda loved this position, her cheeks filling up with a lovey pink hue.

With a sigh, she got up from the bed, setting the information source with the leathery coffee-coloured cover onto the bedding, which the surgeon later held close to his heart and sniffed lightly, taking in her scent of cooked blueberry muffins and robbery. It made him feel better. She takes a few steps towards the stuck Fagin, rolling up the sleeves of her dress shirt, as well as cracking her knuckles.

"Alright, Come on, how bad can a lady be?"

When the pickpocket was lifted out of the window frame gently, the woman gently guided him not that far from the timber and forcefully snapped his back into a healthier posture, forming a snapping sound. He was initially surprised at how good she was at this; but again, most people can spot a terrible body position as soon as they see it.

Y/N looks back at Dawkins, who was in a much better mood; her book being held close to his chest as if he was an infant with a stuffed animal. The piece of work had a beautiful coffee brown cover and spine; some parts were infected by the blood that remained on the surgeon's long, white, dress shirt sleeves from the surgery. The information that was held inside was filled with pages of facts about the function of the internal organs in alphabetical order, what diseases can get into them, and how to cure it.

He had a small crush on the prostitute and he was too afraid to admit it.

The next time we see the trio outdoors, they were out of a house looking mansion; Jack wearing a fresh dress shirt, similar to the other one, but free of blood stains of failed surgery. Everything else about his attire was still the same; a royal blue waistcoat and hat, a white cravat which was matching the baggy shirt, dirt brown breeches, and raven coloured boots. He knocks on the door of the home, the two other people beside him.

"Who do I say I am?" Fagin asked curiously.

"Nobody," He puts down his black medical bag full of surgical and medical instruments, "You don't say anything. Pretend you're mute, and then stay like that. You can be my mute servant and Y/N can be my wife."

"You love her, don't you, Dodge?"

The surgeon was flustered, his jaw opening slightly ajar; struggling to reply. There was no point of hiding it anymore. Even the lady instantly knew that he liked her from his actions from earlier that day when the old pickpocket got stuck between the window frames.