All credit goes to Valentinesdaygreen a great deviantart writer.

{Jack's POV}

            "Good morning, Jacky."

            Jack grunted softly at the voice, his eyelids twitching. He was on the edge of sleep, his mind groggy and his breathing shallow. Right now he just wanted to go back to sleep, his eyelids too heavy to open. If given a few seconds, he probably would, just slip right back into his previous dream. However, he never got the opportunity.

            A small weight suddenly rested on his head, making him flinch slightly. Grunting once more, he groggily opened one eye, staring at the faded gray carpet which had become so familiar to him lately. Slowly he raised his head, blinking as he tried to see through the groggy blur consuming his vision. A grizzled man was crouched in front of him, offering a bright white grin that seemed to glow in the dim light.

            "Still waking up, I see." The weight on his head lifted slightly before returning, and Jack realized the weight was the man's hand, patting him. Groggily blinking away the sleep, Jack tried to open his mouth but found himself unable to. Puzzlement filled him as he tried to open it once more, feeling a strange tugging sensation on his skin. Was this... tape? Reflexively he tried to remove it, only to hear a rattling sound. It was at this point he realized he couldn't feel his arms.

            His sleep began to dissipate as he processed this information, realization slowly starting to dawn on him. The man's smile seemed to grow as Jack's eyes gradually grew wider, the organ eater shrinking away slightly. This man... He'd captured him days, weeks, months ago, keeping him imprisoned in a basement with his hands stuffed into steel mitts and suspended above his head. No wonder he couldn't feel his arms, it'd been ages since they'd gotten proper blood circulation.

            The tape on his mouth was new, though.

            As Jack started trying to push at the tape with his tongue, the man chuckled, making him tense and eye him warily. "I'm sure you're very confused about the tape on your mouth. After all, you didn't have it when you went to sleep, did you?" He paused, as if expecting Jack to answer, but the inhuman being just continued watching him warily. He sighed. "I know you can't talk, but you could still shake your head or nod, you know."

            Once more he reached out to pat Jack's head, making him flinch and pull away, but as usual the chains limited his movement so the man easily still managed to pat his head. "Well, you know, it's behavior like THIS that made me decide to punish you. I just want to give you a little pet, but you always pull away. That's not very nice, is it?" Lifting his hand from Jack's head, the man looked at him expectantly. After a moment Jack hesitantly shook his head, and the man's smile returned as he nodded. "See? Even you agree!"

            With that he rose, turning and walking away. Jack watched warily as the man left his line of sight, knowing he wouldn't be gone for long. Sure enough, he returned less than a minute later, and Jack's eyes widened as he recognized the object in his hand...

            "JACK!" Jack yelped and gave a giant start, the kitchen table shaking as his legs bumped its underside. His head snapped upwards to face [Name], who sat across the table watching him carefully. Currently the pair were sitting in the kitchen, [Name] eating a breakfast/lunch of a [fav sandwich], though currently it was resting on the plate as she stared at him. Taking a shaky breath, Jack waited for his pounding heart to calm down before speaking.

            "...Uh, hi," he said lamely, raising a hand in a meek wave. Then he gave a soft groan and raised a hand to his head, a dull pain throbbing in the back of his mind. [Name], meanwhile, didn't respond right away, just continued looking at him.

 
            "...Uh, are you okay...?" she asked hesitantly, and after a moment he nodded, wincing as more pain flooded his head.

            "I'm fine..." Doubt seemed to fill her face, though, clearly not believing him. And she had plenty of reason not to. If he had eyeballs, he imagined that they would be bloodshot, and right now his head was pounding. Lately he'd been getting less and less sleep. The summer heat made his room incredibly hot, much of his nights spent tossing and turning in attempts to get more comfortable. Then whenever he DID fall asleep, nightmares just plagued him, memories of those months he lost in that basement.

            Last night had been no exception, and he shuddered as he recalled waking with tape covering his mouth. [Name] shot him a strange glance, clearly worried. "Are you sure...?"

            "Sorry," he sighed. "I'm just tired, I guess... and I have a killer headache." That much was true, at least. A small sigh passed his lips and he rose, wincing as the sudden movement aggravated his headache. Walking to the fridge slowly so as to not make the headache worse, he opened it and retrieved a jar with a liver.

            [Name] watched him curiously, swallowing her sandwich. "Gonna eat?"

            "Yep," he said with a small nod, heading for the front door. Even now he still chose to go outside to eat, knowing his diet wouldn't exactly be appealing to his pet/roommate. At least she wasn't as disturbed by merely seeing his meals anymore, though that only applied before he ate them. Right now, though, he honestly wasn't all that hungry. Eating just gave him an excuse to leave without any more questions.

            "Don't leave any dead rats on the doorstep." He paused, and sighed as he departed without another word, closing the door behind. Another reason to leave: to avoid more cat teasing. Naturally, [Name] been jumping on every chance to tease him about his recently discovered propensity to purr, comparing him to cats constantly. Even today she'd meowed at him several times, and they hadn't even been up for an hour. A little break was in order.

            Setting the jar on the wooden floor of the porch, he sank into the rocking chair, leaning back with a sigh. His thoughts reluctantly wandered back to his dream, making him tense slightly and lose any appetite he had. Though he'd rather not think about that time at all, last night's dream had brought back a memory which he couldn't shake from his head, and he closed his eyes as he recalled it.

            His eyes widened as he recognized the silvery box-like object in the man's hand, a circle protruding from the front with a glass square in the center and a square light in the upper corner. "You know what this is, right?" the man asked, and Jack gave a wary nod. A camera.That's what the man was holding, a silvery digital camera. The man seemed pleased that Jack recognized it, raising it to his eye. "Well, say cheese."

            A bright flash filled Jack's vision, making him flinch and squeeze his eyes with a soft grunt. "I've been thinking of making a little scrapbook," the man commented as Jack shook his head in an attempt to rid his vision of the bright spots left by the flash. "You're such an adorable pet, after all. I want to be able to look back on these times years from now. Won't that be fun?"

           
            In the present Jack shuddered at the memory, hugging himself slightly as if for warmth or comfort. No, that would NOT be fun. It was clear that that man—Buddy—was planning to keep him there for the rest of their lives. The more he thought about it, the more his stomach sank. Withering away in that basement for years, never being able to move his arms... Would he have been there forever? What if Buddy died? Would he free Jack before his death? Or would he just be left there to die?

            Stop thinking about it, he commanded himself, shaking his head. "What if" scenarios didn't matter. That man was dead. Dead, dead, dead. Jack was free now.

            What mattered was the camera.

           Throughout his whole captivity Jack had always been vaguely aware of the presence of cameras. He remembered being blinded by its flash as Buddy "examined" his hollow eye sockets, and how his eating was often documented with one. Later, after his senses had been totally cut off, there had even been a camera on a tripod facing them as Buddy "returned" his senses. In each instance, the camera's presence was usually just acknowledged in the back of his mind, barely registering in his conscious as he focused on whatever else was going on at the time.

            Only once did the camera take a major role in his memories. Once again Jack shuddered as he recalled how Buddy gleefully snapped picture after picture of him, speaking of how they'd be looking at the photos years in the future. He quickly pushed that thought out of his mind, instead focusing on the camera. Over the course of his captivity, Buddy had taken many, many photos.

            So where were they?

            Buddy obviously didn't keep them on his camera. That would be stupid and dangerous with [Name] around. Besides, if he did, the news articles would probably confirm that Buddy did, in fact, keep someone in the basement, even if police kept the finer details from the media. Hell, the police might totally disregard that and give the media full access to the footage since it would be pretty obvious Jack wasn't human. On that note, they might just bury the case entirely since Jack would be suspect number one, and news of a murderous monster running loose would just cause unnecessary panic.

            So no, Jack had plenty of reasons to suspect Buddy didn't just keep the photos on the camera or memory card. Right now, only one explanation for where they could be came to his mind...

            As he thought about it his head started to hurt again and he gave another groan, leaning forward as he clutched it. Stupid headache... It just seemed to keep getting worse and worse... Sighing, he briefly closed his eyes, thinking that his vision was partially to blame for the headache. However, as he closed them he quickly became aware it wasn't the only problem, his body slumping forward...

            Thump.