A Different Kind of Teacher
Belle learned quickly, faster than any student Jack had seen in this era. But the way he explained things was unlike any surgeon in the colony.
Jack didn't say,
"Cut here because that's where we always cut."
He said:
"Cut here because the artery forks underneath—here."
He didn't just show her how to stitch.
He showed her the angle at which the muscle pulled, the direction of tension, the way skin closed if you rotated your wrist two degrees more clockwise.
He taught her as if she were already a surgeon—
as if she could reach the heights he had climbed.
Belle absorbed everything.
And she noticed something else:
Jack never once invited her to his underground clinic.
Finally, one afternoon, she asked:
"Why not take me with you? Why teach me here?"
Jack didn't even look up from the vial he was preparing.
"I don't trust you yet."
Belle blinked.
He didn't say it cruelly.
He said it like a simple, unavoidable fact.
And she accepted it.
"Fair," Belle murmured.
She wasn't angry. She respected the honesty—even when it stung.
The Conversation With Hetty
Jack kept no secrets from Hetty—not anymore.
She was the only one he trusted to touch his tools, clean his instruments, or manage the clinic when he was gone.
When Belle began her lessons, he told Hetty the truth:
"Belle knows I'm the Doctor."
Hetty froze.
"What?"
Her voice trembled. "You—you let her? Jack, she's a Fox. They're nobles. They're dangerous. She could expose you!"
Jack shrugged.
"She won't."
Hetty swallowed. "How do you know?"
"Because I told her the price of betrayal," Jack said simply.
"And she understood."
Hetty stared at him, then exhaled slowly.
"You… scare me sometimes, Jack."
He smiled faintly.
"Good. That means you'll listen."
Hetty sighed.
"But if she helps you… then maybe it's for the best."
Jack nodded.
He had no intention of letting Belle near the clinic yet—but if she was to be his student, Hetty needed to know.
Episode 2 Begins — The Blessings of St. Coccyx
Belle Fox walked into the main ward of the hospital the next morning—and froze.
Jack watched her expression shift from confusion…
To horror…
To fury.
Patients lying in filth.
Bandages reused without washing.
Rotten food left in buckets.
Tools stained with old blood.
The stench so strong even the walls seemed to rot.
Belle covered her mouth.
"What—what is this place!?"
Jack didn't even blink.
"Welcome to St. Vincent's Hospital," he said dryly.
"Where the blessed saint of the buttocks watches over all."
"Jack—this is atrocious!" Belle snapped.
"People could die from these conditions!"
"They already have," Jack answered, moving past her with a bowl of carbolic wash.
"It's not my hospital. I don't care."
Belle stared at him, stunned.
"You don't care?"
"Nope."
"But—"
Jack paused, looking back at her.
"Belle. I fix the patients. I treat the ones who matter. I save who I can. The rest?"
He gestured to the incompetent nurses, the drunken chief surgeon, the rotten floorboards.
"This isn't my problem."
Belle clenched her fists.
"It should be!"
Jack shrugged, eyes cold and amused.
"If you want to fix the whole hospital, be my guest. But don't involve me in management. I'm here to cut, stitch, and leave."
Belle stared at him, half infuriated, half impressed.
"You're impossible."
Jack smirked.
"And you're new here."
Belle's Shock Intensifies
Throughout the day, Belle watched:
a drunk surgeon perform a procedure backward
nurses ignoring infection
Sneed bragging about procedures he never performed
the chief surgeon insisting bloodletting was divine science
patients screaming while staff pretended not to notice
She wanted to scream.
Jack didn't react to any of it.
At one point she hissed:
"How are you so calm?"
Jack answered without looking up from a broken leg he was setting:
"Because I have my clinic. My rules. My way."
Belle glared.
"And what about this place?"
Jack tied a knot in the bandage and finally looked at her.
"This place isn't worth saving."
Belle's breath caught.
Not from horror—but from realization.
He meant it.
Truly.
Jack Dawkins was not the hero this hospital expected.
He was not here to reform the system.
He was not here to be a saint.
He was a surgeon.
A weapon.
A force of nature.
And Belle Fox…
…was standing next to a man who could either change the world—
Or burn it down if it got in his way.
Belle's Decision
When the day ended, Belle pulled Jack aside.
"Teach me more."
Jack nodded.
"Then be here tomorrow at dawn."
Belle hesitated.
"And when will you trust me enough to bring me to the clinic?"
Jack smirked.
"When you're ready."
Belle swallowed.
"And… when will that be?"
Jack walked past her, voice low and cold and promising:
"When you stop being shocked by this place."
Belle's heartbeat stuttered.
But she didn't back down.
She would learn.
She would harden.
She would prove herself.
Because if she wanted to stay beside Jack Dawkins—
she needed to stand in the shadow of a man who did not break—
And did not bend.