Through New Sight (Eyeless Jack x Reader) [Sequel to Love Is Blind]

Chapter 3: A First Step

He needed to do something, anything, to cheer his friend up. Or at least elicit some sort of response from him.

"Sooo," Ben started as he sat near Jack in the van. "Toby's learning how to juggle right now . . . " Ben paused and looked down at Jack for a response, but no movement came from him.

"As you would probably expect, it's not going so well for anyone involved," Ben continued. "There's been a lot of close calls with flying hatchets. I dared Masky to try to catch one in midair, but he just ended the whole fiasco by smashing a plate in Toby's face."

He snickered as he recalled the event but still no response from the blanket pile known as Jack.

Ben tried once more, scooting closer. "I, uh, I've been playing this new game that I found. It's pretty fun to play, especially when I'm messing with other players online." He muttered that last part under his breath.

Nothing.

"I think you would like it, too. It's called Overcooked 2 . . . Would you—would you like me to bring over my Switch so we can maybe play a game together? You know . . . like old times."

Let the record show Ben failed miserably to hide the hope in his tone.

" . . . 'm nuh en dh 'ood tu 'lay."

Even with him leaning over with his ear pointed down at Jack, Ben could not decipher a single word Jack had just said.

Ben furrowed his eyebrows at Jack's attitude and pisspoor attempt at communicating with him. He just wanted Jack to be back to his old self, but, damn, was he stubborn about doing anything to get out of this slump.

"Dude, not to be an ass, but it's been, like, a whole year now!" Ben blurted at the pile of blankets.

A heavy groan emanated from under the covers before Jack's head popped out from a hole in the blankets. It was the most pitiful blob of bundled fabric Ben had the displeasure of beholding. A gray hand reached up to remove Jack's mask, only to reveal the cold-eyed stare from underneath. Ben took note of the dark circles that never seemed to have left his empty sockets.

Jack sighed before finally speaking clearly to Ben. "I just miss her," he started.

He looked away and pretended to find something interesting about the floor. "And it still hurts after all this time because—because it was basically my fault."

Ben shook his head at Jack, dumbfounded. "How?"

Jack propped himself off the ground and sat up straight to face Ben, causing the blankets to fall from his shoulders and surround him haphazardly on the floor.

"I was the one who kept seeing her," Jack said as he dug his finger into his chest, pointing at himself. "I was the one who snuck out, raised suspicion, and put her in danger."

A bit of black tar seeped from the edge of Jack's eye sockets as his voice began to break.

"I was the one who got her killed, Ben."

Jack bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to stop crying. But, as much as he tried, he couldn't prevent the black ooze from dripping down his face. He hunched over and used his palms to wipe away at the black tears that he loathed.

Ben stared wide-eyed at Jack for a second before blinking and hesitantly placing a hand on Jack's shoulder. He hadn't meant for Jack to cry, but at least now he knew what was eating Jack up.

"Jack," Ben started with an assertive tone of voice. "Her death was not your fault. None of the things that happened to her that night was your fault! If anything, it was mine and Jeff's fault for practically leading Slender to her." Overcome with righteous fury, Ben grabbed Jack's shoulders. "Heck, it was Slender who knocked her out and killed her, not you."