Chains: Eyeless Jack X Reader

Chapter 37

  {Jack's POV}

            When Jack woke up, he was greeted with a sharp pain in his head. He grunted softly as he shifted into a sitting position, putting a hand to his head and blinking his eyes almost as soon as he opened them. Too bright... Moaning softly, he waited a few moments before opening them again, more slowly this time. Soon enough his eyes adjusted to the too-bright light, revealing himself to be in the hall outside the bathroom.

            What happened...? Staggering to his feet, he put a hand on the wall for support as he groaned softly, the other firmly stuck to his head. A familiar scent taunted his nose, one he instantly recognized and which answered all his unasked questions: alcohol.

            Oh, yeah. He got drunk last night to stop thinking about [Name].

            ...Then what?

            As he thought about it he recalled his last thought, how the brain doesn't record blackouts, and couldn't help smirking at the irony. He started to chuckle but winced due to the pain it caused. Shit, this was one hell of a hangover... How much did he drink last night? He recalled filling a tub with some unidentified alcohol to dunk livers after so many bottles of vodka, and when he went to check he would've smacked his forehead if not for the headache. There was alcohol spilled all over the floor, the tub tilted. Clearly he'd tried to drink straight out of it at some point.

            Sighing, he got cleaning supplies to start cleaning the mess. Crap, the floor was probably permanently stained, wasn't it? No matter how much he scrubbed some of the stain still lingered, making him scowl and grit his teeth. Oh, come on... Why was he even trying to get it out? Not like anyone ever visited. He didn't care, and [Name] probably wouldn't...

            Suddenly he tensed. Wait... What else did he do last night...? Inhaling slowly, he headed for the cabinet, quietly getting a can of [fav soup]. Even as he put a pot on the stove he could see his hands shaking, worry and concern filling him. What if he...? No, he couldn't have... Grabbing his mask, he shakily carried the finished bowl of soup to the operating room, his pace slower than usual.

            When he opened the door, he peered inside to see [Name] lying on her side, her back to him. His heart skipped a beat as he caught the scent of alcohol, confirming he had, indeed, been in there. Hours seemed to pass as he stood there staring at her, waiting for some kind of sign of life. Soon enough, though, he saw a minuscule movement as her side rose and fell. Breathing. She's alright. Relief washed over him as he stepped inside, closing the door quietly.

            He approached her slowly, trying not to make too much sound. He didn't smell any blood... So he hadn't hurt her? But what happened then? Stopping by the operating table, he couldn't help noticing she hadn't really reacted to his arrival. Hesitantly he leaned over the table, and gave a small sigh of relief as he saw that she was just asleep. Quietly he switched out the bowl for the one already present, the soup still untouched, though he was happy to note that the water bottles he'd left were empty. As he moved to leave he noticed something glint out of the corner of his eyes, and turned only to cringe as he saw glass shards against one of the walls.