Chapter Text
Belle felt frustrated.
She could hear Jack calling for her; feel his hands desperately trying to shake her out of her "anaesthesia", hear his usually strong voice waver with fear and distress when she didn't respond.
Blink! She snarled at herself in her mind. Move your hand!
Her body continued to ignore her demands, stubbornly remaining deathly still. She could now hear yelling, someone holding onto her wrist; the sensation of someone being pulled away from her against their will.
"Is she breathing?!"
Jack. His voice was getting further away. She squeezed her eyes shut, metaphorically, of course.
What the devil had happened?
[1 hour earlier]
Belle could only whimper as waves of pain tore through her body over and over again without any respite. She was very aware of her heart fighting to keep beating, feeling each and every uneven thump.
Jack lifted her from the cart he had placed her in outside her home, still balancing the gun in his right hand. Belle could hear the heavy, wooden thump of the hospital's doors being opened, and, forcing her eyes open just a crack, see nurses and patients staring in surprise.
Yes. She thought. On any other day, this is a scandal.
But today wasn't normal. So, no. Not a scandal.
Belle caught a glimpse of the surgery she knew all too well as her eyes slid closed again, listening as Hetty yelled orders from her place in the foyer of the hospital.
She whimpered pathetically once again as Jack lowered her gently onto the table. Belle's back arched off the table with yet another wave of pain, starting before the last had the chance to die down.
The strength of Jack's hand on her arm gave her a moment of distraction to focus on something else. The warmth of his palm emanated through the sleeve of her gown then seemed to spread throughout her arm, stretching both down toward her fingertips and up toward her shoulder.
Then another wave of pain. Her back arched up off of the wooden table slightly, as though her soul was reaching for the heavens.
Hetty's voice appeared, and Belle opened her eyes enough to see that she was handing Jack something. Her eyes met Belle's and she smiled thinly.
Belles eyes shut on their own accord again, and she managed to sigh between her cries. Her body was giving up already.
Warmth spread through her cheek. Belle turned toward it, forcing her eyes open again. Jack was studying her with watery eyes, the ether and breathing apparatus that she had introduced only a few short months ago in his hand.
"I love you." Came his voice, shaky and quiet.
Then his lips touched hers. Love and comfort fought a fierce battle in her body against fear and pain. Her vision went dark as her eyelids closed. This time, it was Belle who told her eyes to close, and she felt a pang of pride at that.
His lips retreated from hers and a back-arching cry followed them, as though the cry had won the battle.
The breathing mask covered her mouth and nose, and Belle found herself with her eyes meeting Jack's deep brown ones. His left hand stroked her hair softly, a last comfort before she dropped into a sleep. She was grateful to him for the little things he was doing.
How she wished she could tell him.
[ - Minutes later]
Huh?
Belle felt something.
A dull pressure on her... linea alba?
Voices floating in and out...Getting louder...
"Let Dawkins work!"
Was that..Sneed?
Her father's voice came next.
"Let him, Jane."
The pressure on her stomach had halted.
What in heaven's name is going on?
She tried to look around. Only the darkness one sees when one's eyes were closed.
Were her eyes open? Obviously not, Lady Belle.
The pressure on her body began again.
Is...Is she awake while Jack is performing the surgery?
"Hetty, catgut. Quickly!"
Yes. She most certainly is.
Jack's breaths were fast and heavy, unlike anything she'd heard before. He's still crying.
She wanted to hold him, to tell him that she was alright. His hands did not stop moving regardless of his tears, Bless his heart.
"She's losing too much blood." Hetty spoke quietly. Belle would've swallowed heavily if she'd been awake then. There was an reptitive brush against (where Belle assumed) her incision was.
Silence stretched for hours, (or so it seemed) until Jack spoke again, "Forceps."
The sound of metal instruments brushing past one another.
The steady pressure of Jack's hands (or so Belle believed) returned. It was harsher than a few moments ago, however, there was still no pain
"Hook." Jack's voice was clipped. Belle felt a pang of longing for the man beside her. She so desperately wanted to hug him.
In spite of herself, Belle waited for a spike of pain, or something to tell her that Jack had accidentally hit something he had meant to miss. None came, to her great relief. Though that meant nought. She could still awaken later to find no feeling in her legs or such. She sighed mentally. How horrid Jack would feel if that were to come true.
"Scissors." Sneed's voice?
Was he assisting Jack? Would she awake to find pigs flapping their merry way through the sky? Would the sky be made of sugar?
Belle cast away the thought. Sneed was irritating, indeed, but he was also a surgeon. A fair one, if Belle were to be kind for just a moment. Of course he was assisting.
A tugging at..somewhere within her body, Belle couldn't pinpoint where.
"Tighter...Tighter..." Jack was whispering through his inexplicably heavy panting. To her? To himself? Belle would have to ask another day. If she could bring herself to. She sensed that this may very well be one of the things Jack would rather not discuss with her. "We got it."
"Yeah?" "Yeah."
Well, that was the civiliest she'd ever heard Jack and Sneed be. She wanted to laugh. Instead, she settled for listening to the voice in her heard laugh.
"Stitching." Jack's voice was picking up a lighter, more relaxed timber.
The sound of carbolic acid being sprayed from her sister, Fanny's old perfume bottle. A dull pinch in her leg. A hand on her cheek, turning her face from side to side. Warm breaths splaying across her face.
"...Belle?"
Time to wake up.
Simply done. Just open your eyes and...
Open your eyes...
Why wouldn't her eyes open?
"Belle?" Jack's hand tapped gently at her cheek. "Belle.. Come on, wake up."
She was trying.
She told her eyes to move.
Just to shift beneath her lids.
Told her hand to move; her fingers to twitch.
Her eyes would not obey, nor would her hands, so what about her mouth?
Close your mouth, lick your lips.
God above, Belle, show him that you're alive!
Jack was starting to panic. She could feel it in his hands; in the tears that dripped off his face. "Wake up, Belle!" He demanded of her.
The words echoed through Belle's mind. She, too, was starting to panic.
She could feel the distress rising through her stubbornly still body. The man she loved was begging her to respond and she couldn't.
"Please!"
Nothing was working. No part of her pathetic body was listening to her commands.
"Unhand me! Belle!"
Was Jack in trouble? What was she thinking? Of course he was. He'd kidnapped the governor's daughter, no matter how good-hearted the reason.
"You finished the stitching." Gaines said plainly. Belle screamed at him in her mind to unhand Jack this instant.
"Hetty, Is she breathing?" The sound of the doors to the surgery being opened at force interrupted his calls. Belle could hear Hetty calling for her. Jack's voice was getting further and further away.
The hands of multiple people (or so Belle could make out) landed on her body, trying to rouse her. She fought to break from the ether's spell for one person and one person alone.
For Jack Dawkins.