AN: I edited a lot of this first chapter, so its a bit longer and nicer now. Jazzy. Anyway. Got my interest in this fic back again. Its a rather fun AU, one where Jeff's backstory in particular is a little changed, and of course Jack gets a nice new different one. This version of Jack is, initially, pretty different than the Jack in my other story but is also very much the same Jack as I see him in a very specific way. Same joke-ish last name as usual, too. But lets say his morality is down and bloodlust is up. Fantastic.

Edit: I'm going to note here that I both update weirdly (but I'm vastly encouraged to update by comments and feedback!), and I've only read the original stories for both of these characters (I think the stories are terribly written but for some reason, love playing around with these characters. Oops. It's a long story.)

I should also note that I don't support any of the very messed up things any characters do or say, and you shouldn't either, but if you find it a bit fun or thrilling in a scary but interesting way in stories, that's cool and so do I!

Don't be afraid to talk to me, I don't bite. If you like my story please do review and follow it. I first started writing this a few years ago, so it definitely gets better the more you read.

Also warnings for this fic, updated every once in a while: Jeff is seventeen in this and underage, but I might have him have a birthday before anything too shady goes down. There's a lot of implied/referenced torture and some graphic violence. Also referenced homophobia, not by either of the main characters. Past abuse will be referenced. Mental health issues will be referenced/talked about. Ableist language will sometimes be used.

"So," The doctor gave a smile, hands behind his back. "You're the new one, aren't you? Caught messing around in this syndicate's business, decided to just get involved to avoid even more consequences. Like washing dishes at a restaurant because you can't pay for your meal." The man chuckled to himself. His voice was honeyed, but his words a bit condescending. Not enough to raise alarm bells yet, it was only very slight, but it was there. "...I haven't properly introduced myself yet, have I? My apologies. I'm Dr. Jack Eyrich, as I'm sure you've been told." Eyrich was a tall, slim, dark haired and skinned man in relaxed but nice clothing. His office had a lot of neutral colors, an overabundance of bookcases, and everything was clean.

Jeff shrugged, quickly deciding that he didn't see what all the fuss was about. Others had warned him about his first trip to the local medic already, but perhaps they were just trying to spook him. They had been pretty vague about it, after all. "Yeah, yeah. Can you just patch me up already? I have better things to do than listen to hang around some washed up doctor, y'know."

Eyrich stopped smiling for the first time since Jeff had showed up. His face looked eerily different without the warm smile there. His eyes were the opposite of warm, he could see that now, without the smile to counter it. "Hm. Stab wound, was it?"

Jeff nodded, sitting on the doctor's desk and lifting up his hoodie and bloodied t-shirt to allow access to his side.

"I see, this isn't too bad, is it? You got off rather lucky," Eyrich observed thoughtfully, smile returning just as easily as it had gone. He placed a few fingers lightly near the wound. Jeff shivered a little.

The doctor then gently brushed the fingers over, and clawed them into the wound mercilessly.

Jeff let out a shocked half-scream and forcefully shoved the doctor's arm away, scrambling backwards and actually falling off of the stupid desk. He took a few books and papers flying with him.

Eyrich took a small towel and cleaned the blood off of his thin hands and fingers. He spoke as he did so, without looking at the teenager on his floor. "So! Jeff, was it? You should remember that just as I can make things better for you, I can also make them worse. Being so disrespectful can easily allow me the excuse to make your life a living hell, understand?" Jack finally looked over at Jeff, after a pause. "Don't overestimate your own worth, child."

Jeff shook with anger, but he was quiet, trying to make his own face blank again. He clutched his side, and stood back up.

He really, really hated being called a child.

"Now, come over here, would you? I'll fix you up good as new, if you behave properly this time," Eyrich said brightly, the warning behind it clear. "Do you agree to do that? I won't a second chance offer more than once. Takes away the whole point of a second chance, wouldn't you say?"

"Fine," Jeff muttered, leaning up at the desk rather than sitting, and far more cautiously this time.

"You'll call me 'Dr. Eyrich' when you address me."

"Fine, Dr. Eyrich," Jeff growled.

"Better! But we'll need to work on your tone," Eyrich said, sounding optimistic. "Do you know what my passion is, recruit?"

This guy was too damn chatty.

"You're a doctor," Jeff said blankly. His head was more in survival mode than in guessing game mode, so he couldn't come up with anything more creative just then. He'd heard that Eyrich was different, and those rumors seemed to be right, but nothing specific. He wasn't very high ranked yet, and didn't get as much gossip. Or maybe nobody wanted to talk about it.

"Ahaha, close. That's my job." Eyrich took out a box of equipment and started to rifle through it. "My passion, however, is torture. I'm not, in fact, some washed up doctor, taking the only work I could find- I sought this life out for a reason. Oh, and I'm not just speaking of liking the petty stabbing and slashing your type enjoys, no, I'm talking about an art form." He took in a breath, and grinned slowly. His eyes were lit up, like he was recalling a good memory. "I can make people sing so sweetly. The kind of screams you've never even dreamed of hearing."

Jeff eyed the doctor, deciding to keep his mouth shut. This little monologue really wasn't the best thing to hear from someone about to mess around with your open wound. Shutting up seemed like it might make his chances better with this too unknown danger.

"Everyone is a bit different, and I can bring out so many new things in their voices." Eyrich found what he was looking for and started to deal with the stab wound. "I think it's a talent I was born with. And who would I be to turn away from something I'm so naturally good at?"

Jeff hadn't met anyone like this before. He may murder people, but this guy was in a whole other category. He had urges, and the whole thing gave him a thrill, but he could tell they weren't quite the same in the way they went about doing things. That this man took his time with what he did, and was all fucking thoughtful about it. Jeff was mostly about the end result, while this guy was all about the process.

"...I wonder what your voice would sound like," Eyrich mused softly, what looked like a curious glint flashing in his eyes for a second.

Jeff narrowed his eyes, hoping the other would be done as soon as possible.

The doctor was quiet and focused on his work for the rest of the time that remained.

Eyrich stretched like a cat, and sank down in his desk's chair when he was finished up. "I'll see you whenever you mess up again, rookie. Which for your type is always sooner rather than later, so I suppose I'll be seeing you a lot, huh?"

He then proceeded to ignore Jeff in favor of looking through his various papers.

Jeff only allowed himself to have a small breakdown once he was out of the building Jack's office was in, and halfway through an empty alleyway. He knocked over a bunch of trash cans, effectively scaring the shit out of a random cat, then punched a brick wall and regretted it the instant he did it. He pulled on his own hair and clothes and tried to do anything to express the mix of anger, outrage, and anxiety he felt.

Well.

Dr. Jack Eyrich, decidedly, would be a problem.

Jeff was suddenly a lot more keen on avoiding future large injuries, no matter how danger-prone he was.

He could've also thought to just find a different, less threatening doctor to use, but even Jeff had to admit that Jack Eyrich was actually pretty goddamn good at his job.

It would be almost funny, if the man really was just as good at fixing things as he apparently was at breaking them.