You had hardly been awake for two seconds when there was the bang of the door in Jack's little hospital. You didn't hear much but some grunting and the shuffling of feet towards the door to Jack's bedroom, but you still tensed and reached out to Jack to wake him.

"Jack, someone's -- "

There was a curt knock on the door. You retracted your arm as Jack stirred, groggily slipping on his mask and sitting up.

His voice was rocky from sleep, but clear when he spoke.

"Who's there?"

"It's Tim. I just got back."

Jack stood slowly and made his way to the door. You watched him as he moved, really watched him, for the first time, and saw that he moved quietly and all at once – he opened the door, slipped through, and shut it quietly all in one fluid motion. You hadn't even heard his footsteps on the ground.

You still couldn't get out of bed, but you found you really didn't need to – you couldn't hear Jack on the other side of the door, but the other man didn't seem to know how to be quiet at all. His footsteps – uneven, you could hear -- were heavy on the concrete floor, and his voice carried through the cold air like a police siren. You couldn't make out much of what he was saying through the thickness of the door and walls, but you didn't have much else to do besides sit and listen.

You took a deep breath and tried to let it fill your whole body as you closed your eyes and tried to understand the man as he spoke.

"...gun... didn't get..."

You sighed in frustration. You wouldn't be able to piece anything together – not through the door, at least, and not without another side of the conversation. In that moment you wanted to be angry at Jack for being so animal.

Anger won't do me any good with him, though.

If he could've just been a normal man kidnapping you in a normal way, you thought, everything might be over by now. You wanted nothing more than to be home, in the arms of your mother and father –

But they're gone now.

You hated the clown more than anything. Even if it were possible to escape Jack and his hospital, even if you could evade anyone else in the house – and God knows how many of them there were – you would never be able to go home again. Your parents were gone, and their lives had been taken without dignity. You had nowhere to go. There was nowhere but this room, this bed, and the man outside who had decided on his own time that he owned you.

You thought back to your dream -- if you could call it a dream. You still didn't know if it had been real or not, but knowing what you knew about the clown, you figured you shouldn't doubt it. He had promised to take you out of your misery, whatever that meant – you knew you couldn't trust him after what he did, but he was your only way out, so far.

It's an easy thing he wants me to do anyway – he just wants Jack to get him his supplies... all I have to do is ask. I guess I do have to start talking to him at some point... You allowed yourself to get lost in thoughts of what to say to Jack for a while. All things considered, it was easy to lose track of time that way when you had nothing to do but think.

~

Jack opened and shut the door with the same silence as before, but he made less of an effort to keep quiet this time. It seemed to be a natural part of him, the silence, and you wondered if he had always been that way.

He stood with his back to the door, staring through empty eyes at you, fluid even in stillness. You made no effort to hide the way you stared back at him, and you didn't hesitate as you spoke.

"Who was that?"

"His name is Tim," he said, more casually than you expected. You only nodded. Jack, for once, didn't go silent right away.

"He works for the Operator – a... very powerful entity, to put it simply – he and two others are the Operator's 'proxies'." He put the last word in air quotes.

"Who are the others?" You were quiet as you asked, quieter than you'd ever had to be, but you wanted this conversation to carry on and you had to keep him happy – or, at the very least, not angry – for that to happen.

"Their names are Brian and Toby. Brian almost never comes here, but Toby... he's another story." An edge of irritation crept into his voice at the mention of the third man, and you chose to change the subject.

"I... saw the house, before I met you. It's big." He nodded, but stayed silent.

"How many people are here?"

He looked away from you, towards his bookshelf, thinking before he spoke.

"I don't know, exactly. It's probably around ten, but I only see them when they come down here or I come across them in the kitchen, when I'm up there for you. Jeff and Jack, you've already met. The proxies stay every once in a while, too."

He paused, thinking. You waited silently.

"Ben. He's usually with Jeff... and Jane, who hates Jeff. Sally, too, but she's only here when the Operator is. That's all I can think of that stay here regularly. The rest come and go."

You shifted your gaze to the ceiling with a "hmm," but you couldn't think of anything else to say. Before you had the chance to think of anything, Jack pulled an apple and a few granola bars out of his sweatshirt pocket at that and walked them over to you.

"Tim left these here. Eat."

It was an order more than anything else, so you did.