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Chapter three
"Good morning Jack." She said calmly as she stepped into the room to find her first patient sitting calmly on the floor leaning against the wall, rather than in one of his chairs. In response, Jack raised a hand to slowly wave at her- it was his most common way of greeting her when she stepped into the room. Typically he was her most talkative patient, but he was still extremely silent a majority of the time. Calmly, she walked over to the desk in the living room and set her clipboard and pen atop it, then she held up the basket she had the pie in.
"I brought you some food, since I know you don't like what the boss has us give you... It's a uh, steak and kidney pie. I made it myself..." She said somewhat awkwardly as she carried the pie over to Jack and offered it to him. As expected, he just stared up at her silently, portraying little to no interest in the food she held in her hands. Upon seeing his disinterested response, she stepped away from him to carry the pie into his kitchen. Personally, she wanted to see him eat it so she could at least make sure he was getting something in his stomach- he'd been dropping weight as of late, and that concerned her. For him to be losing any weight when he had a steady supply of food, it either meant that he had a parasite, or he wasn't eating enough. With a sigh, she set the pie atop the counter so she could get the fridge open. She wanted to check and see how much he'd actually eaten since she'd last looked through it, which was roughly five days ago. As soon as the fridge was open, the smell or rotten meat hit her nose- or, more specifically, spoiled liver. In an instant she covered her mouth and nose as she slammed the fridge door shut- that had been one foul smell, and she'd definitely confirmed her suspicion of him refusing to eat. She'd been instructed to give him two whole calf livers and a pound of ground beef five days ago, and she hadn't touched his fridge since then- and she could tell the meat hadn't been moved since she put it there.

Biting back the bile that rose in the back of her throat, she stepped away from the fridge and took a moment to compose herself. The smell of the rotten liver was still heavy in the air, and she felt like she was about to puke, but she had a serious matter to get taken care of. Once she'd deemed herself composed enough to stand her ground, she stormed back into the living room so that she could stand directly in front of Jack.

"How long has it been since you ate?" She said sternly as she stared down at Jack, who in turn peered up at her- though from her perspective he just had his face turned in her general direction. Since she allowed him to keep his mask for sake of his personal comfort, she could never really tell if he was looking at her or somewhere near her. Granted, since she was aware that he lacked a pair of eyes in general, it wouldn't of mattered if he had his mask on or not. When he refused to answer her, she spoke out again.
"Eyeless Jack, tell me the last time you ate... Now." She asked, this time in a much sterner voice as she used his full title- which seemed to work. The instant his name left her lips, she sensed that his attention snapped directly on to her- and she knew it for sure because he stiffened up. She then waited patiently to see if he'd respond.

"... Six days ago..." Jack said hesitantly, and in a quiet voice as he stared up at her. He seemed unsure as to whether or not he should be talking to her- but, he actually sounded like that every time they engaged in conversation. He wasn't used to talking. Upon hearing his answer, she sighed and moved to sit on her knees in front of him- his gaze followed her every movement.

"Alright, it's been six days since you last ate... What did you eat exactly?" She asked calmly as she looked him dead in the face- or, mask to be more accurate. Not that it made any difference, she'd never seen his face before. Again, she waited patiently for him to respond to her question.

"... Chicken gizzards..." Jack said, his voice still hesitant, but now holding a sense of caution. Was he aware of what she had to do if she couldn't get him eating again? That was a possibility, seeing as he'd spent nearly forty years as prisoner in "The place". Forty years without aging, one might add- none of the prisoners ever seemed to age. Why that was, had yet to be figured out.

"How many? Raw, or cooked?" She asked, her voice calm but still holding a hint of sternness. She could tell he was uncomfortable- hell, she was uncomfortable. This was the longest conversation she'd ever had with him, so that made the ordeal more awkward than one could imagine.

"... Nine of them... Cooked... Stuffed with cheese and bread..." Jack answered yet again with an uneasy, hesitant voice as he continued to stare at her. In response, she sighed quietly and shifted her weight a bit to get more comfortable- which was hard because she was sitting on her knees. If she'd managed to learn anything about Jack in the seven years she'd known him, she'd learned about his dietary habits. Without going into details, it meant that the way he'd prepared his last meal wasn't a good sign.

"Jack, what's wrong with you?... I know how you eat. I know what you like to eat. And I know for a fact that you hate mixing meat and cheese... Is the food really that bad?" She asked calmly, though her voice took on a more gentle tone as she spoke. For him to be forcing a change in his diet- even if it was only once or twice, it was a sign of major discomfort. People don't suddenly change how and what they eat unless there's a health benefit to it- and knowing Jack, such a sudden change would seriously mess up his stomach. For him to be that desperate, the food he was eating must have been very, very bad. The eyeless man remained very quiet for a long time- but he did eventually speak up.

"... Bad enough for me to need to down it in cheese... It tastes terrible and gives me a stomachache..." Jack said in his usual hesitant manner, though his tone now held a hint of irritation. Which, was understandable given the situation. When he ate he got sick, and when he didn't eat he dropped weight, which would eventually lead to him getting very sick if the situation wasn't fixed. She could sense just by that note of irritation that he wasn't going to be very cooperative with her when she told him to eat.

"Jack, you need to eat. You're losing weight and wasting food, I cannot let this continue." She said calmly as her stern tone returned once more. In response, the eyeless man scoffed and straightened out his legs a bit. Yep, he was going to fight with her on this.

"... Eat?.. Heh, eat?... That toxic, overly processed meat byproduct you call food, is only good for putting starving animals out of their misery... I'd rather starve than put another bite of that slop in my mouth." Jack said boldly, his voice going from hesitant and slightly irritated to dark and clearly annoyed- it was the tone you'd expect to hear from someone right before they threw a punch at you. His tone alone was enough to make it clear that she wouldn't be able to convince him to eat, and she knew better than to make it a long standing argument. If he wouldn't listen, she had no choice but to fill out a form to have him put in the intensive care center. That, would make him very unhappy because he'd be locked in a small, dimly lit room, he'd be hooked up to an IV and a few machines, and he'd be confined to a bed. If he resisted- and she knew he would- then they'd sedate him. He'd be left in there until he was back at his desired weight, and then he'd probably kill her once they sent him back to his room. She shook her head a bit at the thought of everything that was about to be put into play- it sucked, it was unfair, but it was a job requirement.

"You won't change your mind?" She asked calmly as she prepared to stand up. His next answer would determine whether or not he'd spend the next few months confined to a bed in a small room. Almost immediately after she asked her question, he bent his knees so that he could lean forward. The front of his mask was only a couple inches away from her nose, he lent in that close- it was his attempt at being stern and intimidating.

"No." Jack said coldly, before he calmly lent back against the wall and returned to his comfortable, lazy position. With that, she offered him a short nod and sighed. That meant she had no choice. Without another word, she stood and turned to walk over to the desk she'd set her clipboard upon. Then, she picked it up and began to rummage through all the papers she had on it, until she came across the form she needed.
"... What are you doing?..." He asked in a somewhat nervous and confused voice as he watched her pull the form off the clipboard, only to put it back so that it was on top of all her other papers. Seemed he hadn't realized the full importance of the conversation they'd just had- so she had to fill him in.

"Well Jack, seeing as you won't eat and I can't force you to, I've no choice but to have you sent to intensive care. They'll keep you there until your weights back up. Then, when you come back we can see about getting you some more desirable foo-!" She began to explain what she was doing, to Jack, who sprang away from the wall to tackle her and pin her to the floor beneath him. The paperwork and her clipboard went flying and she struggled instinctively in an attempt to get away from him. At some point, she wound up lying on the floor on her stomach, with her arms held tightly behind her back to keep her restrained. He on the other hand, sat on the small of her back with his knees digging into her sides to keep her from trying to get up- and of course he only needed one hand to restrain her arms.
"Jack!.. The hell are you-!" She wheezed as she attempted to work her arms out of his grasp, only to have him apply more pressure. A strong jolt of pain shot through her arms and back when he did this, and she couldn't help but let out a gasp. That, had been her warning to stop resisting- she knew all too well that he could easily break both her arms if he chose to. The next thing she was aware of, was warm breath near her ear. She found herself taking a deep breath in response to it. For her to be feeling Jack's breath, he would have had to remove his mask. If he removed his mask, then it meant he was going to kill her and make a meal out of her.

"Sorry (Y/N), but I can't let you fill out that form... I'm gonna have to kill you now... Pity, I actually liked having you around. You were nice..." Jack said in a dark, threatening tone as he used his free hand to reach inside the pocket of his dark grey hoodie to pull out a small fillet knife. Then, he slowly raised the back of her shirt to reveal the bruised skin that lay hidden underneath. He tensed slightly in surprise, as he hadn't been expecting her to have fist shaped bruises on her back- or anywhere on her for that matter- but he quickly composed himself. Then, he slowly dragged the edge of the blade up her spine, being sure not to cut her as he did so. Goosebumps formed atop her skin in response to the chill of the metal on her back, and she took a deep, shaky breath to calm herself. She had to think of a way to get him off of her.
"Nn... Don't worry (Y/N), I'll make it quick. I don't really want to kill you, but I can't let you send me to the infirmary... But, look on the bright side. I'll have plenty to eat..." He said calmly, but in a somewhat hesitant manner as he positioned the blade over her back- with just a quick thrust, he'd push it clean into her heart. He knew just where to stab to make the death instantaneous. Panic flooded her system, and she reacted on impulse to try and save herself. Yes, dying was part of the job- but she wasn't ready to greet death just yet.

"What good will it do?!" She said quickly, her voice loud and panicked from her desperation. She felt him jump slightly in response to her sudden outburst, which calmed her a bit because when he did he pulled the knife away from her back. Then, everything became eerily quiet for a few minutes- so quiet, that she could hear him breathing on top of her. Then, the knife returned to her back and she took a sharp intake of breath- but he didn't run her through. Instead, he lent in further so that he was nearly lying on her shoulder- his face was right next to her ear. She could faintly see his ash grey skin out of the corner of her eye.

"... Explain." Jack hissed in her ear, his tone threatening as he applied the slightest amount of pressure to the blade he had pressed against her back. The tip of it barely broke the skin, but there was the faintest hint of pain in her back- that kept her aware of how dangerously close she was to being killed and eaten. In response, she took a slow, deep breath to calm herself as best she could.

"... W-what good will killing me do?... You'll eat now. Satisfy your hunger- keep yourself from starvation a while longer. But then what?... My body will be taken from you as quick as it possibly can. What then?... You'll refuse to eat. You'll drop weight... Whoever starts to care for you once you do away with me, they'll notice something's up. And they won't bother to ask you why you will or won't eat. They won't bother trying to talk to you... They'll just fill out the form and have you sent to the infirmary, and you'll be taken there. No warning. Just you being dragged out of your room, and confined to a bed in a small room while who knows what is done to you to get your weight back up..." She said slowly, and in a very hesitant manner. Her nervousness had made her pause a number of times to try and calm herself with a deep breath. Once she stopped talking, she felt him shift a bit on top of her- the knife was removed from her back, and then placed on the floor in front of her face. She managed to relax a bit upon seeing the blade on the floor, instead of feeling it pressing into her back.

"... And if I just kill my next caretaker before they have the chance to notice I'm not eating?..." Jack said calmly, his voice taken on a less threatening tone as he spoke. He seemed to be calming down, and that calmed her further because it meant that she was getting through to him. She took another deep breath.

"Jack... Whoever you're assigned next won't be like me. Whoever comes next will do everything in their power to protect themselves. They'll lock everything before they come in the room... They'll make you empty your pockets and if you have a weapon, they'll tase you. Or worse, they'll shoot you in the leg... And I can guarantee you, after that they'll make sure you have a good reason to be put in the infirmary. They'll beat you Jack- or don't you remember all the things your last caretaker did?..." She said slowly, her voice somewhat shaken by the fear that remained in the back of her mind. Then, before she had a chance to mentally prepare for whatever question he'd ask her next, she felt him release her arms. She immediately moved her arms around to lay them more comfortably at her sides, but she didn't dare try to get up- because he hadn't gotten off of her. He'd let her arms go to make her more comfortable, but he wasn't ready to free her from the dangers of his grasp- because so long as he held her down, he was the one in control.

"I... You... You know about... Him?..." Jack said hesitantly, his voice nervous and unsure- it was obvious that he hadn't expected her to know about incidents that occurred prior to her becoming his caretaker. Little did he know that she was a curious little bugger. She'd gone out of her way to look into all the past caretakers of all her patients. Jack alone had killed an average of one caretaker per year and two months- excluding herself. His last one survived a year and a half before he'd managed to do off with him. Hesitantly, she took another deep breath.

"I know about all of them Jack... I know how your third caretaker, April, kept you locked out of your room so you had to sleep out here on the floor, without blankets... And your eleventh caretaker, George, who'd lock your fridge for days at a time so you had to go hungry... And, your last caretaker, Vin-... He put you on a vegan diet, and beat you because you got sick... I know, he's the reason you won't sit at the table when you eat..." She said hesitantly, her voice soft. She had almost used the name of his last caretaker- but she'd stopped herself before she could. She wasn't trying to dig up old memories- she didn't want him freaking out on her. Sadly, it seemed just bringing up Jack's old caretaker was enough to put him on the brink of a panic attack. She could feel him trembling as he sat on top of her. Taking into account that he'd suffered some terrible beatings- not to mention other forms of abuse- at the hands of his last caretaker, it shouldn't have been surprising how easy it was to freak him out by bringing "Him" up. By that point, she'd started to mentally prepare herself for the feeling of having her arms broken or something, because she thought she'd made him snap. Imagine her surprise when, instead of attacking her, he slowly moved off and away from her so that she could get up. She did so slowly, because she didn't want to startle him. She could tell that he was on the brink of having a panic attack because of their discussion. He was scarred- memories of his last caretaker, the idea of being locked in the infirmary, fear of what could happen if he did or didn't kill her. So many thoughts were running through his head, they must have been driving him crazy.

Once she was standing, she slowly turned around to face him, and she stiffened a bit in surprise at the sight of his unmasked face...

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Chapter three
"Good morning Jack." She said calmly as she stepped into the room to find her first patient sitting calmly on the floor leaning against the wall, rather than in one of his chairs. In response, Jack raised a hand to slowly wave at her- it was his most common way of greeting her when she stepped into the room. Typically he was her most talkative patient, but he was still extremely silent a majority of the time. Calmly, she walked over to the desk in the living room and set her clipboard and pen atop it, then she held up the basket she had the pie in.
"I brought you some food, since I know you don't like what the boss has us give you... It's a uh, steak and kidney pie. I made it myself..." She said somewhat awkwardly as she carried the pie over to Jack and offered it to him. As expected, he just stared up at her silently, portraying little to no interest in the food she held in her hands. Upon seeing his disinterested response, she stepped away from him to carry the pie into his kitchen. Personally, she wanted to see him eat it so she could at least make sure he was getting something in his stomach- he'd been dropping weight as of late, and that concerned her. For him to be losing any weight when he had a steady supply of food, it either meant that he had a parasite, or he wasn't eating enough. With a sigh, she set the pie atop the counter so she could get the fridge open. She wanted to check and see how much he'd actually eaten since she'd last looked through it, which was roughly five days ago. As soon as the fridge was open, the smell or rotten meat hit her nose- or, more specifically, spoiled liver. In an instant she covered her mouth and nose as she slammed the fridge door shut- that had been one foul smell, and she'd definitely confirmed her suspicion of him refusing to eat. She'd been instructed to give him two whole calf livers and a pound of ground beef five days ago, and she hadn't touched his fridge since then- and she could tell the meat hadn't been moved since she put it there.

Biting back the bile that rose in the back of her throat, she stepped away from the fridge and took a moment to compose herself. The smell of the rotten liver was still heavy in the air, and she felt like she was about to puke, but she had a serious matter to get taken care of. Once she'd deemed herself composed enough to stand her ground, she stormed back into the living room so that she could stand directly in front of Jack.

"How long has it been since you ate?" She said sternly as she stared down at Jack, who in turn peered up at her- though from her perspective he just had his face turned in her general direction. Since she allowed him to keep his mask for sake of his personal comfort, she could never really tell if he was looking at her or somewhere near her. Granted, since she was aware that he lacked a pair of eyes in general, it wouldn't of mattered if he had his mask on or not. When he refused to answer her, she spoke out again.
"Eyeless Jack, tell me the last time you ate... Now." She asked, this time in a much sterner voice as she used his full title- which seemed to work. The instant his name left her lips, she sensed that his attention snapped directly on to her- and she knew it for sure because he stiffened up. She then waited patiently to see if he'd respond.

"... Six days ago..." Jack said hesitantly, and in a quiet voice as he stared up at her. He seemed unsure as to whether or not he should be talking to her- but, he actually sounded like that every time they engaged in conversation. He wasn't used to talking. Upon hearing his answer, she sighed and moved to sit on her knees in front of him- his gaze followed her every movement.

"Alright, it's been six days since you last ate... What did you eat exactly?" She asked calmly as she looked him dead in the face- or, mask to be more accurate. Not that it made any difference, she'd never seen his face before. Again, she waited patiently for him to respond to her question.

"... Chicken gizzards..." Jack said, his voice still hesitant, but now holding a sense of caution. Was he aware of what she had to do if she couldn't get him eating again? That was a possibility, seeing as he'd spent nearly forty years as prisoner in "The place". Forty years without aging, one might add- none of the prisoners ever seemed to age. Why that was, had yet to be figured out.

"How many? Raw, or cooked?" She asked, her voice calm but still holding a hint of sternness. She could tell he was uncomfortable- hell, she was uncomfortable. This was the longest conversation she'd ever had with him, so that made the ordeal more awkward than one could imagine.

"... Nine of them... Cooked... Stuffed with cheese and bread..." Jack answered yet again with an uneasy, hesitant voice as he continued to stare at her. In response, she sighed quietly and shifted her weight a bit to get more comfortable- which was hard because she was sitting on her knees. If she'd managed to learn anything about Jack in the seven years she'd known him, she'd learned about his dietary habits. Without going into details, it meant that the way he'd prepared his last meal wasn't a good sign.

"Jack, what's wrong with you?... I know how you eat. I know what you like to eat. And I know for a fact that you hate mixing meat and cheese... Is the food really that bad?" She asked calmly, though her voice took on a more gentle tone as she spoke. For him to be forcing a change in his diet- even if it was only once or twice, it was a sign of major discomfort. People don't suddenly change how and what they eat unless there's a health benefit to it- and knowing Jack, such a sudden change would seriously mess up his stomach. For him to be that desperate, the food he was eating must have been very, very bad. The eyeless man remained very quiet for a long time- but he did eventually speak up.

"... Bad enough for me to need to down it in cheese... It tastes terrible and gives me a stomachache..." Jack said in his usual hesitant manner, though his tone now held a hint of irritation. Which, was understandable given the situation. When he ate he got sick, and when he didn't eat he dropped weight, which would eventually lead to him getting very sick if the situation wasn't fixed. She could sense just by that note of irritation that he wasn't going to be very cooperative with her when she told him to eat.

"Jack, you need to eat. You're losing weight and wasting food, I cannot let this continue." She said calmly as her stern tone returned once more. In response, the eyeless man scoffed and straightened out his legs a bit. Yep, he was going to fight with her on this.

"... Eat?.. Heh, eat?... That toxic, overly processed meat byproduct you call food, is only good for putting starving animals out of their misery... I'd rather starve than put another bite of that slop in my mouth." Jack said boldly, his voice going from hesitant and slightly irritated to dark and clearly annoyed- it was the tone you'd expect to hear from someone right before they threw a punch at you. His tone alone was enough to make it clear that she wouldn't be able to convince him to eat, and she knew better than to make it a long standing argument. If he wouldn't listen, she had no choice but to fill out a form to have him put in the intensive care center. That, would make him very unhappy because he'd be locked in a small, dimly lit room, he'd be hooked up to an IV and a few machines, and he'd be confined to a bed. If he resisted- and she knew he would- then they'd sedate him. He'd be left in there until he was back at his desired weight, and then he'd probably kill her once they sent him back to his room. She shook her head a bit at the thought of everything that was about to be put into play- it sucked, it was unfair, but it was a job requirement.

"You won't change your mind?" She asked calmly as she prepared to stand up. His next answer would determine whether or not he'd spend the next few months confined to a bed in a small room. Almost immediately after she asked her question, he bent his knees so that he could lean forward. The front of his mask was only a couple inches away from her nose, he lent in that close- it was his attempt at being stern and intimidating.

"No." Jack said coldly, before he calmly lent back against the wall and returned to his comfortable, lazy position. With that, she offered him a short nod and sighed. That meant she had no choice. Without another word, she stood and turned to walk over to the desk she'd set her clipboard upon. Then, she picked it up and began to rummage through all the papers she had on it, until she came across the form she needed.
"... What are you doing?..." He asked in a somewhat nervous and confused voice as he watched her pull the form off the clipboard, only to put it back so that it was on top of all her other papers. Seemed he hadn't realized the full importance of the conversation they'd just had- so she had to fill him in.

"Well Jack, seeing as you won't eat and I can't force you to, I've no choice but to have you sent to intensive care. They'll keep you there until your weights back up. Then, when you come back we can see about getting you some more desirable foo-!" She began to explain what she was doing, to Jack, who sprang away from the wall to tackle her and pin her to the floor beneath him. The paperwork and her clipboard went flying and she struggled instinctively in an attempt to get away from him. At some point, she wound up lying on the floor on her stomach, with her arms held tightly behind her back to keep her restrained. He on the other hand, sat on the small of her back with his knees digging into her sides to keep her from trying to get up- and of course he only needed one hand to restrain her arms.
"Jack!.. The hell are you-!" She wheezed as she attempted to work her arms out of his grasp, only to have him apply more pressure. A strong jolt of pain shot through her arms and back when he did this, and she couldn't help but let out a gasp. That, had been her warning to stop resisting- she knew all too well that he could easily break both her arms if he chose to. The next thing she was aware of, was warm breath near her ear. She found herself taking a deep breath in response to it. For her to be feeling Jack's breath, he would have had to remove his mask. If he removed his mask, then it meant he was going to kill her and make a meal out of her.

"Sorry (Y/N), but I can't let you fill out that form... I'm gonna have to kill you now... Pity, I actually liked having you around. You were nice..." Jack said in a dark, threatening tone as he used his free hand to reach inside the pocket of his dark grey hoodie to pull out a small fillet knife. Then, he slowly raised the back of her shirt to reveal the bruised skin that lay hidden underneath. He tensed slightly in surprise, as he hadn't been expecting her to have fist shaped bruises on her back- or anywhere on her for that matter- but he quickly composed himself. Then, he slowly dragged the edge of the blade up her spine, being sure not to cut her as he did so. Goosebumps formed atop her skin in response to the chill of the metal on her back, and she took a deep, shaky breath to calm herself. She had to think of a way to get him off of her.
"Nn... Don't worry (Y/N), I'll make it quick. I don't really want to kill you, but I can't let you send me to the infirmary... But, look on the bright side. I'll have plenty to eat..." He said calmly, but in a somewhat hesitant manner as he positioned the blade over her back- with just a quick thrust, he'd push it clean into her heart. He knew just where to stab to make the death instantaneous. Panic flooded her system, and she reacted on impulse to try and save herself. Yes, dying was part of the job- but she wasn't ready to greet death just yet.

"What good will it do?!" She said quickly, her voice loud and panicked from her desperation. She felt him jump slightly in response to her sudden outburst, which calmed her a bit because when he did he pulled the knife away from her back. Then, everything became eerily quiet for a few minutes- so quiet, that she could hear him breathing on top of her. Then, the knife returned to her back and she took a sharp intake of breath- but he didn't run her through. Instead, he lent in further so that he was nearly lying on her shoulder- his face was right next to her ear. She could faintly see his ash grey skin out of the corner of her eye.

"... Explain." Jack hissed in her ear, his tone threatening as he applied the slightest amount of pressure to the blade he had pressed against her back. The tip of it barely broke the skin, but there was the faintest hint of pain in her back- that kept her aware of how dangerously close she was to being killed and eaten. In response, she took a slow, deep breath to calm herself as best she could.

"... W-what good will killing me do?... You'll eat now. Satisfy your hunger- keep yourself from starvation a while longer. But then what?... My body will be taken from you as quick as it possibly can. What then?... You'll refuse to eat. You'll drop weight... Whoever starts to care for you once you do away with me, they'll notice something's up. And they won't bother to ask you why you will or won't eat. They won't bother trying to talk to you... They'll just fill out the form and have you sent to the infirmary, and you'll be taken there. No warning. Just you being dragged out of your room, and confined to a bed in a small room while who knows what is done to you to get your weight back up..." She said slowly, and in a very hesitant manner. Her nervousness had made her pause a number of times to try and calm herself with a deep breath. Once she stopped talking, she felt him shift a bit on top of her- the knife was removed from her back, and then placed on the floor in front of her face. She managed to relax a bit upon seeing the blade on the floor, instead of feeling it pressing into her back.

"... And if I just kill my next caretaker before they have the chance to notice I'm not eating?..." Jack said calmly, his voice taken on a less threatening tone as he spoke. He seemed to be calming down, and that calmed her further because it meant that she was getting through to him. She took another deep breath.

"Jack... Whoever you're assigned next won't be like me. Whoever comes next will do everything in their power to protect themselves. They'll lock everything before they come in the room... They'll make you empty your pockets and if you have a weapon, they'll tase you. Or worse, they'll shoot you in the leg... And I can guarantee you, after that they'll make sure you have a good reason to be put in the infirmary. They'll beat you Jack- or don't you remember all the things your last caretaker did?..." She said slowly, her voice somewhat shaken by the fear that remained in the back of her mind. Then, before she had a chance to mentally prepare for whatever question he'd ask her next, she felt him release her arms. She immediately moved her arms around to lay them more comfortably at her sides, but she didn't dare try to get up- because he hadn't gotten off of her. He'd let her arms go to make her more comfortable, but he wasn't ready to free her from the dangers of his grasp- because so long as he held her down, he was the one in control.

"I... You... You know about... Him?..." Jack said hesitantly, his voice nervous and unsure- it was obvious that he hadn't expected her to know about incidents that occurred prior to her becoming his caretaker. Little did he know that she was a curious little bugger. She'd gone out of her way to look into all the past caretakers of all her patients. Jack alone had killed an average of one caretaker per year and two months- excluding herself. His last one survived a year and a half before he'd managed to do off with him. Hesitantly, she took another deep breath.

"I know about all of them Jack... I know how your third caretaker, April, kept you locked out of your room so you had to sleep out here on the floor, without blankets... And your eleventh caretaker, George, who'd lock your fridge for days at a time so you had to go hungry... And, your last caretaker, Vin-... He put you on a vegan diet, and beat you because you got sick... I know, he's the reason you won't sit at the table when you eat..." She said hesitantly, her voice soft. She had almost used the name of his last caretaker- but she'd stopped herself before she could. She wasn't trying to dig up old memories- she didn't want him freaking out on her. Sadly, it seemed just bringing up Jack's old caretaker was enough to put him on the brink of a panic attack. She could feel him trembling as he sat on top of her. Taking into account that he'd suffered some terrible beatings- not to mention other forms of abuse- at the hands of his last caretaker, it shouldn't have been surprising how easy it was to freak him out by bringing "Him" up. By that point, she'd started to mentally prepare herself for the feeling of having her arms broken or something, because she thought she'd made him snap. Imagine her surprise when, instead of attacking her, he slowly moved off and away from her so that she could get up. She did so slowly, because she didn't want to startle him. She could tell that he was on the brink of having a panic attack because of their discussion. He was scarred- memories of his last caretaker, the idea of being locked in the infirmary, fear of what could happen if he did or didn't kill her. So many thoughts were running through his head, they must have been driving him crazy.

Once she was standing, she slowly turned around to face him, and she stiffened a bit in surprise at the sight of his unmasked face...