You need a hand to hold

Crime was something you had buried far deep in the core of your body, sealed and fastened shut within the cage of your ribs. It was placed somewhere near your heart to keep it beating when survival was despairing. You moved past it, but everything you made was built around it. You were a woman now, yet the crimes of a girl were always silent inside her, waiting.

The last bell rang, the children excitedly got up from their seats, all rushing to the door. You slumped down into your chair with a wary smile. You envied their joyous noise and merriment, watching the hallways fill with students. Some pushed and shoved. Others walked slowly and chatted with friends leisurely, in no rush to make it home. After the cacophony of voices and footsteps vanished, you finally made an effort to tidy up. Wiping off the chalkboard and preparing it for the next day, organizing papers that you would take home to grade, and moving the desks back to the spot they belonged to. Unlike the enthusiasm to return home expressed by your students, you were dreading the thought of it. It was quiet and stuff and lonely there. You prefered the lightness of the classroom.

Your profession as a school teacher did not come easily. There were many parts you'd rather leave forgotten. Female teachers were few and far between since education for women was difficult to find. Although, you had managed to find a man who would endorse your name to be an instructor. It was something that was perfectly yours. You adored you students and your job and you truly wanted nothing more. It was a miracle that you made it this far and you would not let anything erase this from you.

Of course, peace in your life was little and far between.

One of the senior professors filled the doorway, casting a shadow over your desk. Benedict. He called your name, his arms crossed.

"We need to have a talk. Please follow me."

You swallowed your sigh and pushed yourself up. Following him, your mind brimmed with sudden anxiety. You had been very careful about your past. You had done nothing wrong, there was nothing to be worried about. You could only hope. He led you into his office and gestured for you to take a seat. You did.

"Now, unfortunately, I have come to acknowledge certain things about you."

"Such as what, sir?" You replied warily.

"Your past, shall we say," Benedict said, hovering behind his desk. "I have no need for criminals in this establishment. You should be grateful I have let you teach here as a woman. Yet, committing these acts will not be tolerated."

"Sir, please-" you began, quickly raising from the chair. "I promise you nothing of my past has ever been a concern for the children. These crimes you halve discovered are from many, many, years ago. Certainly not relevant now."

"As I statement, Miss. I will not have criminals in this school. Of any sort." He muttered lowly.

"Sir, you do not understand," You rushed out, panick beginning to set in. You leaned over his desk. "I need this job. The children love me-"

"You will be glad to know, I will be merciful once more to you," Benedict interrupted, glancing down your body. A family prickiling uncomfortableness crept over your skin. Memories of those heated stares and wandering hands, flooded to the forefront of your mind, but you stubbornly pushed them back down. "I find much sympathy in myself for your case. Unfortunately, I will have to remove you from the building. You will be sent to Australia to teach the little convict boys there. Quite fitting I believe."

You watched as a please smile spread across his lips. Your heart had sank all the way into your stomach once he finished his verdict. Australia? You had never left the cities of Britain.

"You are to leave by the start of next week so I suggest you begin packing soon, Miss. And do remember my mercy."

Taking the hint, you swallowed your protests and left, returning to your classroom. You took it in as if it was the first time, drinking in the books and diagrams and the abundance of desks. You could only hope that the children would never hear of this. A deep sensation of melancholy washed over you as you shut the door for the last time.

You had little to pack. A teacher's salary was a little more than a few shillings. That night you dreamed of a life before this one. Of dark alleyways, and laugher, and screams.

-

Port Victory was nothing if disgusting.

The tickets given to you by Benedict for a ship happened to be quite large, but also disgusting. It was cheapest ship he could find you presumed and it was one taking convicts to the continent, not exactly pleasant, but it was transportation regardless. You felt numb most of the trip, aside from seasick that is. You daydreamed of your students. How they would react when they were told you had been transferred. Your only thought that prevented you from throwing yourself into the waves, was that you would be able to change the lives of many of the poor children in Australia.

You found a shabby room to stay in, next to a Cafe. Thankfully it was hidden from the bustle of the main streets. Allowing a more relaxed air about it, which you enjoyed. With unhurried resigned motions you unpacked your things. You had alluded the law all of your life, only to end up in a colony of convicts. It had only been a matter of time it seemed.

You decided to go get some food from the stalls and a few blankets and such before the sun went down. You had been talking idly with one of the vendors when you saw a boy. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed him steal an orange from the vendor beside you. That foul thing inside your ribs stirred in understanding. You bit your lip, thanked the vendor, and started over to the boy, but a carriage beat you to it. You yelped as you heard the sinking crunch of bone and people gasped screams around the scene.

You rushed over to the boy, your skirts piling around you as sat down on the dirt. His leg was unmistakably broken, the bone jutting out. You hurriedly unbound the scarf from your hair and attempted to stunch the bleed with it. You called for a doctor, praying it was heard over the crowd.

"Whats your name?" You murmured to try to distract the boy.

"Charlie!"

"Well, Charlie your very brave."

"Is it bad, miss?"

"You're going to live. And I if I can help it you'll keep your leg."

"Don't lie to him like that," said the man who appeared at your side. The doctor you presumed.

"Ive tried to stunch the bleeding-"

"Yeah, well, its not tight enough," He muttered. "I need something to tie.." He looked up at you and paused. You stared back at him in disbelief. Jack Dawkins. A dead man. Memories flooded your mind but you shoved them back. A boy was dying. You pulled the pin from your hair and handed it to him. "Right.."

Jack tightened fabric and continued. "Im going to need to amputate."

"Amputate?" You repeated, agast. "You're going to leave him a cripple on the streets rather than simply reconnecting the bone?"

"I would have to drill into the bone and insert a peg into it. He would die from the shock and pain."

"Then use Ether."

"The Yankee Dodge?"

"Yes."

"No. Thats unproven."

"Expect for in London, and Boston. Do you ever read the Lancet?"

"Not while I have strength, no. Anyway, because your so knowledgeable you would know that is illegal since the governor has banned it." Jack replied, firmly. "Look, M'lady, one of us is a qualified surgeon and the other has a basket of bloody bread. So, thank, you but would you mind awfully sodding off." You pulled back in shock at his aloof manner and coldness. A lady caught your arm as you stood up.

"You know the procedure?" She whispered.

"Um, yes. In theory, of course. Ive never operated." You answered in a daze. You had a decent amount of medical knowledge from your teachings. You talked to your students of biology and recent medicinal progress.

"Fagin, get me a carriage." Jack shouted.

The name alone sent you into a spiral.

"Oh. Would you like a lift?" The lady replied instead, sneaking you a smile. She gestured for you to follow as she went over to the carriage. It was then you realized she had been the one inside the carriage that had hit Charlie. Taking a breath of courage you followed her into the carriage.

-

"So instead of using ether, you're going to butcher the boy and condem him to beggery?" You pressed, eyes narrowing in fury and disbelief. The carriage rocked and Charlie's cries echoed.

"Lovely story, isn't it?" Jack murmured, focusing on the boy's leg.

"Someone has to stick up for him. If only you'd listen-"

"You're not going to take it? Are you, Doc?" Charlie questioned in desperate panic.

"I promise, I am going to save your life," Jack replied lowly, his hair falling into his eyes. It only made you realize, he was someone completely different than your memories led you to believe. His eyes landed back on your with determination. "Now, you listen to me, you upstart. I would give anything to trail that surgery. Anything. To have surgery without pain. But I'm not going to," Charlie began to protest and Jack continued, ignoring him. "Because the biggest risk to any surgeon is the addiction to feeling like God. You are gambling with death, with only your wit for ante, and that is bloody exhilarating. But the risk is not yours. There is a person beneath your hands. And the moment the cutter forgets that, and he gives into his ego, the patient is lost. A surgeon is lost."

There was a moment of only the rustle of the carry and Charlie's whimpers as you stared at one another. A heavy past clinging to the air the two of your refused to acknowledge.

"Might I suggest you find your spine?" The lady said, cutting through the silent, breaking both your gazes. "Its usually around the back."

The two of your shared a kindred smile, a brief understanding that was ruined by Jacks sudden alarm.

"The hospital is that way." He said, leaning to see out the window.

"Yes. Were not going to the hospital." The lady replied calmly. This time both you and Jack stared at her in wild confusion.

-

Turns out you had arrived at the governors house where a ball was currently being held. Which you had to figure out based on little clues from conversation around you. Your head was beginning to hurt from all the chaos that had happened in the last hour. The lady got out of the carriage, claiming to go get supplies for surgery that she had. It was definitely odd, but you were in no mood to question at the point. Although, you deeply wish she stayed instead of leaving you alone surrounded by the past you attempted to forget.

"You're not such a little lady anymore, my dear. Gonna need a new nickname when we get the gang back together." Fagin remarked, looking you over with a smile. You shook your head, but Jacks beat you to a response.

"We are not getting back together. Im not a thief anymore, Fagin. I'm a doctor and that is all I care about."

"It's gonna be awfully hard to operate with only one hand there, Dodge."

"Only one hand?" You couldn't help but ask, an ache you wished to ignore pulling in your chest.

"Oh, old Dodger's got quite the price on his head. Lost a bet at cards, he did. Twenty-six pounds by Tuesday. Or has choose a hand to take off."

"Jack.." You hissed, unsure what even you say. You wanted to search his face for an answer or sign or something, but he wouldn't look at you. He hand a hand braced against the carriage and his head hung. "Why don't you just pay it?"

"On what? Pennies and thimbles?" He question, whirling on you. He paused taking a breath, turning his attention to Fagin. "Im not a crook anymore."

"Aw, come on, Dodge, you're not bein' true to yourself. You were the best I ever trained. You used to live for this!" Fagin said, clapping his shoulder to which Jack only stared him brimming rage.

"This is who I am now."

"What are you goin' to do for a livin' without that hand, huh? You gotta think big. Its the only way out."

Jack's brow furrowed in thought, his eyes drifted to you. You gave him a subtle nod. Like him, you had built a life outside of crime and like him, it appeared back in front of your face. You tried to feel nothing about him, but you would prefer if he kept both of his hands. Something inside you didn't exactly like the idea of him loosing limbs.

"One last time." Jack said finally.

-

"He's not going to make it. We have to operate now." Jack muttered, his breath shallow from carrying Charlie inside. Fagin cleared off the nearest table next to the stairway and they laid him down. The governor's house, well, mansion, was larger and luxurious than you had ever imagined. The Lady---Belle, you'd discovered---had grown up here. The thought was entirely incomprehensible to you. Of course, there was no time to enjoy the sight or wandered. Jack prepped for the surgery and Lady Belle gained the attention of the guests while they came down the stairs. Right there was a ball.

"The entertainment has arrived! The celebrated Doctor Jack Dawkins will be trailing a surgery never preformed before on this continent. Surgery without pain. The Yankee Dodge!" Belle announced.

Jack looked over at you once he had prepped the leg. His eyes saying much more than assist with the operation, but you focused on the task at hand. Taking the bottle of ether Belle had supplied, you pressed the mask over Charlie's mouth and nose.

"Breathe." And he did. His eyes fell shut and body went limp. You pulled the mask away, glancing at Jack before setting it away. The crowd was nearly silent on the stairs. Completely enraptured in the operation. You check for a pulse and nodded to him. Jack began the surgery. You handed him the correct tools. The two of you worked in a smooth, fluid rhythm. There was an instinct that took over. Something that had been stitched inside you from long ago in an orphanage and on the streets of Britian. You wiped your hands on your skirts as he pushed the mended bone back into the leg.

"Now, we will attempt to rouse him from living death!" Belle narrated. Jack glanced at you nervously then leaned over Charlie, grabbing his shoulders and shaking.

"Charlie? Come on, Charlie boy." Jack murmured, hand moving to his face. The silence pressed on for too long. The beating of your heart filled your ears. Charlie began to look more and more like your own students, his limp body brought forth a deep wrongness.

"Don't cut me, Doc! I need me leg!" Charlie gasped, starting up and a suprised gasp left everyone in the room. As so, you watched Fagin slip a necklace off a lady in a deep red dress. Your heart raced with the old feeling of a heist. Everyone began applauding and Fagin came down the stairs to clap Jack on the shoulder, simultaneously slipping the stolen jewels into his pocket.

"My rubies! Someone has stolen my rubies!" The woman in the red dress shouted in panic. Your eyes flew to Jack but he did not look at you. A cutting pain from your abdomen washed over you. That constant ache always got worse at the wrong times. You grabbed the table for support, biting your lip to silence your cries.

"Don't leaves! Check everyone!" Shouted who you could only guess was the captain of the police or something similar. You placed a hand on your hips, breathes growing labored. Jack grabbed your waist to support you.

"Are you alright?" He murmured, his eyes holding far too much concern than you were comfortable with. You nodded, your hand slid over his vest and snuck the jewels into your hand. The guards began checking people.

"Move. She is unwell." Lady Belle spoke firmly when the gaurd started to search Jack. "I said she is unwell."

The man hesitantly stepped elsewhere. Belle came to your other side and led you and Jack up the stairs to her room. She shut the door behind you two. Your labored breaths echoed through the room.

"Do you mind?" Jack glanced at Belle, who nodded vaguely. He watched you from behind, his brows knited together. "I need to listen to your back. Take off your dress." You glanced at him over your shoulder and swallowed. You angled yourself away and began to undress. This wasn't ever the way you imagined would happened when you met Jack again. In fact, you tried not to think of it. You presumed he had died or been put into labor when he was stuck in jail all those years ago. After you found no way to free him, you closed off that whisper of hope in your mind. Yet, here you are. He is alive and you are undressing in front of him. He had been a pretty boy, and he hadn't lost that aspect, which did not help you in the slightest. You willed your cheeks not to flush. Your heart didn't need anymore complicationts.

Your fingers fumbled for the buttons at the back of your dress, Jack didn't hesitate to help. His hair brushed your cheek. Belle handed him a stethoscope from one of the tables. You had managed to strip down to your chemise and calm your breath, but it was still difficult and shaky. He settled behind you, pressing the cool metal of the device to your lower back.

"Breathe in," Jack murmured lowly, his warm breath sending bumps across your skin. "Out. Good. Again." You followed his voice, hand over your chest. Your breath finally started to level out. "Okay. I'm going to come around to the front." You could nearly see the confusion that painted his face as he heard a sound not meant to be there. You weren't ready for this conversation. You just found him again and you could tell he didn't need anymore stress.

Before he could say anything, you pulled the ruby necklace out of the folds of your dress. He paused, realizing you had been the one to take it from his pocket.

"You two are common thieves." Belle remarked, crossing her arms. The roar of heavy footsteps sounded from the hallway, no doubt guards. Jack darted for the door, grabbing your wrist to pulled you with him. Lady Belle rushed in front of you two, placing herself between the both of you and the door.

"You will make me a doctor." Belle announced firmly.

"That is ridiculous. Society would not allow it." Jack protested. You and Belle both scowled at him.

"I will give you two options. I yell guards and you both are hanged."

"Not ideal."

"Or you make me the first female surgeon." Belle smirked, absentmindedly glancing at you. "And her." Jack pursed his lips in thought, eyes finding yours. You gave him a vague nod. You couldn't deny the benefit of this crazy lady's sceme. You had always imagined you're illness would kill you, or you would figure out how to operate on yourself. Neither were optimal. Now, a door was opened. There was a chance a of life, a full one. And you would be able to help more, not just students. Undoing the damage you had done in your youth.

-

"She grew into quite the pretty lady, huh, Dodge?" Fagin said gleefully. Jack pressed his eyes shut, trying to erase the image of you undressing from his mind. Your soft skin and delicate curves. Him and Fagin were walking back to the hospital. Belle had given you a carriage ride to wherever you lived. He was tempted to follow, but decided against it. Fagin was enough from the past he was trying to forget, adding the emotions that swirled around you? He'd preferred if you stayed away.

"She's alright." He muttered.

"Don't be blind. Funny she ain't married, huh?"

Jack didn't respond. There was no need to be jealous even if a possessiveness stirred inside his chest. He didn't know you anymore. Nothing more than a whispy bit of memory. There was no sense in feeling these things.

They made it to the hospital as the moon rose over head. He had nearly forgotten he had invited a woman over, but welcomed the distraction. Surely after the rush of sex, those thoughts of you would fade away.

Of course, that was not the case. He stayed with the woman until she had fallen asleep and went outside to pace away the restless energy burning inside him. He said down on a bench, rubbing his hand over his face.

He knew what he heard earlier that night. It was not only your thrumming heartbeats, but an abdominal aneurysm. He had found you again after all these years and you could die at any moment. And there was nothing he could do about it. No patient had ever survived an operation on an abdominal aneurysm. He desperately wanted to hold you close. You had been the only thing to save him as a child. You were the only one that continued to visit him in jail after Fagin had abandoned him. You never gave up one him, but he couldn't save you. All of these skills he's learned. Changing his hands to heal rather than hurt. All to not be able to save the one person that mattered.

-