Chains: Eyeless Jack X Reader

Chapter 27

{Jack's POV}            

            Humming to himself cheerfully, Jack carefully slid the clock over the nail, taking a few tries to hang it properly. Adjusting it so it was straight, he took a step back to take a look at his work, slowly nodding in approval. It was a pretty plain clock, made of blackened metal with brass hands pointing to the time, but it worked. It even managed to match the decor of the room, or at least what little decor there was. Smiling in satisfaction, he glanced over his shoulder and said, "Well, you finally have a clock. Now you can count the hours while I'm away."

            "Yippee," [Name] mumbled sarcastically, hunched on the bed facing away from him. Chuckling, he walked over and sat next to her, patting her head.

            "Sarcasm isn't very cute," he commented with a grin, earning a small groan of annoyance.

            "Neither are chains," she grumbled, shifting her leg so it would rattle. This made him pause, an involuntary shudder running down his spine. Quickly shaking it off before it could show, he just slowly shook his head at her. Two days had passed since [Name] had impulsively locked him in the bedroom, and since then she'd been wearing the shackle almost constantly. So far it had only been removed once, when she needed to change into more comfortable clothes, but otherwise he always left it on.

            "Well, you DID misbehave. Think of it as like... being grounded?" He smiled as he said it, lifting the chain with a single finger and shaking it a little.

            "You know..." she started, but stopped.

            "What?"

            "...Nothing." He frowned slightly but didn't say anything, deciding to let whatever it was just slide. Patting her back, he leaned forward and sniffed her hair, making her tense. "...You're weird," she mumbled into her knees. "And a jerk..." He chuckled.

            "And I'm proud of it," he retorted, sticking his tongue out at her. She glanced over her shoulder at him and did a bit of a double-take at the childish gesture. Smirking at her reaction, he fixed his mask and got up. "I'm going to make lunch. Any requests?"

            "Can you make anything besides sandwiches without burning it?" she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm, but it didn't faze him.

            "...Probably not," he admitted, chuckling. "Guess I'll go with a sandwich." She didn't respond, and he sighed as he left, heading to the kitchen to raid the fridge and cabinet for ingredients to make a [favorite] sandwich. Though he was punishing [Name] for her misbehavior, he didn't want to be cruel to her. It may not seem like it, but he didn't want her to be miserable. He didn't want her to hate him.

            Though he still didn't know why her opinion of him mattered so much...

{Reader's POV}

            I was starting to really regret locking Jack in my room.

            Water ran down my back as I crouched in the shower, rubbing my ankle. Wearing the chain for so long was leaving a mark on my skin, even with the sock "protecting" it. As soon as the shower ended the chain would go right back on; I knew Jack was waiting outside for me to finish. It was my punishment for my little act of "rebellion", and I had no idea how much longer it would last. As I sat there, the words I'd held back pushed at the back of my throat, trying to break free:

            "You know, you're acting a lot like Buddy."

            I couldn't say it, though. I knew it would just make him angry, as well as raise questions. I couldn't tell Jack about the photos and video yet, not when he was still so mad at me. If I did, he might actually kill me. As I thought about it I watched the water wash down the drain, and I had to wonder how much of it was my tears. Showers were nice because I could pretend I wasn't crying, and right now I just wanted to stay there forever.

            Of course, though, I couldn't. My hands were wrinkled to the point of resembling prunes, so I knew it was time to get out. Besides, I was feeling pretty under the weather at the moment, so I probably shouldn't stay in there too long. Taking a deep, shuddery breath, I rose and turned off the water, stepping out and toweling myself off. Pulling on my pajama pants and a bra, I sullenly opened the door. Jack was leaning against the wall with a book, and as soon as the door opened he snapped it shut and grabbed my wrist, guiding me to the bedroom.

            "Sit," he ordered, gently pushing my shoulders so I was forced to sit on the bed. Lifting my foot, he carefully examined my ankle, turning it slightly so he could see the marks better. Pressing on it gently with two fingers, he asked, "...Does it hurt?"

            "Yes," I grumbled through gritted teeth. He sighed and released my ankle before walking to the dresser to retrieve a thick sock, tossing it to me along with a shirt. I caught them and quickly pulled on the shirt, followed by the sock, only for him to toss me another.

            "Pull it on the other foot," he instructed. "I'm switching legs for the chain." This surprised me, but I did as told, my ankle already grateful for the impending relief. Once it was on he clapped the shackle around my ankle, having to pay a little extra attention to any threads in the way due to the sock's thick material, before quickly locking it. It was a bit of a tight squeeze, since this sock was thicker than my usual fare, but at least there wouldn't be as much of a mark. With it in place Jack left the room, only to return moments later with a first aid kit.

            "What's that for?" I asked in surprise.

            "To treat your ankle."

            "...Oh..." I peeled off the sock so he could work, flopping onto my back with my legs dangling over the edge and just staring at the ceiling. I was silent, tracing patterns in the wood on the ceiling as I just thought. It was so frustrating, being here. I had no where to go, and I was just a prisoner... Not that the chain really mattered though. Lately I had no energy. I figured I was probably getting a cold or something, though I didn't feel like telling Jack quite yet.

            Suddenly I heard a low but loud rumble, making me give a jolt and bolt upright. Even Jack seemed surprised, and snapped his head towards the window. Setting down the supplies in the first aid kit, he rose and walked over to peer outside, raising the blinds a bit so he could look at the sky. It was darker than I'd expected. Was it already evening? After a few moments he let them fall and walked back, lifting my ankle once more.

            "Rain clouds," he said as he resumed tending my ankle. "It's going to storm soon. Judging by the thunder, it'll probably be a big one."

            "...Ah." I nodded slowly. At this point I glanced at the clock, only to find it was a bit after five. Way too early for it to be getting dark in the summer. Noting my glance, I imagined Jack smirked as he released his grip on my ankle to ruffle my hair slightly, catching me by surprise and reflexively scrambling back. He laughed a little at my reaction.

            "I knew the clock would come in handy," he declared.

            "Shut up," I mumbled, looking away, and he chuckled again as he finished his work.