• 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓕𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓓𝓸𝓭𝓰𝓮𝓻 (𝓓𝓪𝔀𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓼 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻) •

𝓓𝓪𝔂 𝓞𝓷𝓮/𝓣𝔀𝓸-𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓛𝓾𝓼𝓽

In the late hour of a quarter to midnight, Y/N returns back to the labyrinth known as the Port Victory hospital, feeling overwhelmed with exhaustion. The fact that her E/C eyes had dark rings underneath, eyelids drooping with fatigue whilst desperately craving for rest was clear proof that she felt like she could collapse on the hard floor at any minute. Her heavy legs barely functioned as she tirelessly searches for the one staircase leading up to Jack's chambers. The dark wasn't the easiest thing to navigate.

Her right hand was putting a light amount of pressure on the same side on her neck, as it stung ferociously. She hadn't acquired this sensation prior to the revolutionary amputation of Charlie. It was only when Gaines attempted to get her intoxicated with rum, minutes after the surgeon and Fagin accidentally left her behind. Around an hour before she fled the governor's residence, she first experienced this sharp pain. Someone was grabbing her shoulders tightly. Everything else past that was a daze except for the part where she sprinted back to the medical place because she had nowhere else to go.

What felt like an eternity, but ten minutes in reality, she quietly pushed the bedroom door open, which barely let out a creaking noise. The first thing she saw was Dawkins himself, cocooned in a cyan coloured duvet and in a deep sleep on his surprisingly soft bed; clearly shirtless underneath. His dark brown hair ruffled with sleep. He looked kinda attractive like that.

She later saw Fagin snoozing on his makeshift bed on the floor, laying down on his back, still in his clothes from the day. Y/N's ears weren't fully operating to hear him snore like a goddamn elephant and the surgeon was too asleep to listen.

Walking without making any noise, her legs buckled beneath her, forcing her to collapse onto the mattress right next to the doctor due to being drained of the energy she had used up throughout her first day in this new country, resulting in a soft thud on the left side of the cot. The hand that was covering the out-of-the-ordinary stinging sensation dropped to her sides.

This made Jack stir.

He ran his fingers through his hair with a blurry vision, before seeing the clearly unconscious woman, who looks like she'll fall off the bed; since it was made for one individual, not two. Not wanting her to harm herself, he wrapped his arms around her chest, preventing her from spilling off the mattress. She didn't feel this.

But when his own medical instincts saw what was on Y/N's neck, he immediately became so concerned that he had to examine the area for anything that could be potentially fatal. He thought it was a second degree burn at first, judged by the area being deep red and purple, but it wasn't.

It was a normal sized love bite.

Dawkins felt too exhausted to be a doctor right now. He'll look at it in the morning before going back to competing to be a better surgeon with Sneed and Professor Alistair McGregor. As much as he wanted to help her now, his brain refused to and forced him to go back to resting. His head landed back on the pillow, but his protective grip on the rebellious woman didn't loosen.

It stayed like this for a while until around three in the morning, where Jack himself started to have a nightmare about his past as a young teenager in the Navy.

He was out of prison by Captain Grimm and taken in as a surgeon due to his quick fingers that were used formerly to pickpocket. The underage lad had long forgotten about Fagin abandoning him in the cell even though it wasn't too long ago.

The medical section on the ship wasn't in the best condition, as it smelt like metallic blood of the amputated sailors. It didn't help that it was storming terribly outside either. From afar, he hears a burly middle aged man next to a cannon with a flaming gunpowder, shouting out "FIRE!", before a heavy looking cannonball was pushed forcibly out of the bore and barrel of the weapon due to the exploded powder. They were clearly meant to attack.

Then there were blood curdling screams of another sea soldier, as their right leg was being cut off in order to save it from disease. They haven't even gotten up to bone yet. Jack, who was casually watching from the sidelines, was unaware of what happened to that limb, but it was clearly lethal if left untreated. It was Grimm who was operating and he got pretty pissed off when the boy wasn't helping, "Jack Dawkins! I didn't help bust you out of prison, so you could stand and watch!"

As if on command, the one-time convict, sped walked towards a leather messenger bag full of razor sharp medical equipment, and searches inside the bag for the next tool to use in this surgery. He was trying not to stab himself with the tools. Finding it within seconds, he retrieved a hacksaw with a non rusted and sharpened blade that was somewhat discolored plasma red, "Got It!".

Passing the equipment over, the gory amputation continued and the screams resumed as the sounds of saw cutting cartilage.

"Help Me."

The young Jack passes him another medical utensil silently, Before getting out a silver pocket watch with the hours in Roman numerals. He was timing how long it took for Grimm to successfully remove the leg.

"One, Two, Three, Four, Five-"

The sound of a cannonball whizzes as one approaches their ship. The enemy fought back. It made a huge hole through the wooden walls, but luckily, nobody got hurt yet. He was operating as fast he could possibly go without screwing up. Dawkins forgot which number he was up to, "Uhhhh....Nine, Ten?"

There was a soft thud when the leg made contact with the wooden floor, immediately painting a bloodstain. The lad puts the pocketwatch down, replacing it with some needle and thread. The fully matured one gave him instructions, "Stitch him, pull his skin over."

A stump slowly formed as Jack started to close the wound with the thread, but it wasn't exactly even. He was more focused on stopping the bleeding than perfection, "Mother never taught you how to sew?"

"Never had one, sir."

Just as he finished, there was another cannonball that made contact with the ship; but this time, someone by the name of Wally, got hit deep in the stomach. They let out a melody of pain, as another sailor noticed the new traumatising injury and called for Grimm, "Over here, Captain!"

Both him and the teenager arrive at the area, only to see the seriously wounded sea soldier on the verge of facing death. His lower chest where the cannonball hit was spilling out fresh blood at an alarming pace and quiet tears of red streamed down his eyes without making a sound.

"Stay with him, Jack."

"What do I do?!"

"Nothing. Intestinal wound is beyond our reach, he'll die before we're halfway through."

"So what? I don't-..." He was interrupted when the skilled adult kneeled down to his eye level and informed calmly, "Hold his hand and see him to the next life."

Dawkins was saddened by this. He was going to witness a man die right in front of his eyes. Those dark brown orbs threatened tears, "What?"

The next thing he knew, it was just him and the near-death Wally in the area. Holding his hand, he looked at the dying lads' eyes as he got to meet death from the intense loss of blood and plasma.

Back in the present, he immediately woke up from his sleep, sitting up with cold sweat dripping down his face and terror serging through his veins. He looked around. Fagin was still resting on the floor...and so was Y/N. Fuck, he let go of her by accident. She lets out a drowsy, "Owwww...."

"Sorry."

Without hesitation, he lifted her back on the bed again, to which it didn't take long for the both of them to sleep again.