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Sally noticed something… Odd about Jack. Her head may have been full of leaves, but she wasn’t stupid by any means. Of course she noticed it.
It started with accidentally pricking his finger with her needle, then was surprised at his sudden, pained yelp and following flinch away from her. His fingertip was drawn into his mouth to either relieve the sting, or to pause any blood flow that could come out – if any could come out. Sally was stupefied for a moment and he seemed to either not notice his own action, or not care. She returned to attempting to talk Jack out of his haywire dream, more careful of his bony fingers with the needle.
She never saw a mark on his finger. Sally had bigger things to worry about at that moment. She forgot about it within the hour.
She remembered it a few days later when she and Jack were standing in the kitchen of the lab. Sally had prompted him into learning a new trade, taking up a new hobby, and baking seemed to be that hobby. Giggling when he compared it to science, excitedly rambling on about how ingredients were added in just like chemicals in chemistry. She agreed, though she wasn’t quite sure how chemistry worked. Apparently, that was the point of chemistry, he laughed. She was almost disappointed to cut him off by asking him to retrieve the pumpkin pie from the oven.
Sally was surprised to see him pull on an oven mitt, then retrieve the pie from the oven with it still on. She blinked a few times as he set the pie on a cooling rack, barely noticing his proud grin flashed at her until he spoke. She looked up at him and from her blank stare, Jack chuckled, and spoke again,
“Sally? Are you alright? I asked if it looked alright.” He pulled the oven mitt off and set it back into place. She smiled, nodded, and his grin returned. Her head was still stuck on the oven mitt. He had no skin, but he could still be burnt? Her thoughts returned to the needle from days prior.
They ate pie that was a bit too sweet and a bit too oily, and Sally forgot about it after a night of sleep.
The third and nearly final instance came weeks later, on a late-night stroll near the pond. It had stormed mere hours before, the smell of rain and coolness still in the air as they maneuvered around puddles and mud – hand in hand, laughing and smiling like children. It felt so nice to let loose occasionally, they didn’t get the chance often. The murky, green waters of the pond acting like a disturbed mirror and distorting the falling sun in its reflection, playing with their silhouettes when they neared the edge.
Jack paused when he noticed the corpse child and bat child staring solemnly at a ball entangled in the bleached mangrove roots entwining within the water’s surface. Nasty roots that tangled deep into the mud below the water, a trap for any monster unfortunate enough to fall within them. The children noticed the couple and pleaded for help in retrieving their ball. Jack, ever the hero, assured them the ball would be returned to them promptly. Sally found his kindness to warm her heart, smiling as he pushed up the sleeves of his suit jacket.
He didn’t mind getting messy, but this was a date after all.
“Be careful, Jack,” Sally warned as she stood by the edge of the pond with the children, “If you fall into the roots…”
“Oh Sally, I’ll be alright. I’ve done this plenty of times before.” He assured her with a lighthearted chuckle, glancing over the roots for a moment before an idea seemingly struck him. He walked carefully over the tops of the roots, turning his ankles to keep a steady base, one hand holding the base of the tree while his free hand stretched out to balance himself. To Sally, it resembled an odd dance, or a tight rope walker; steady but careful, elegant but cautious. She bit her lip as he made it further onto the roots and onto the pond’s surface. He didn’t seem fazed. But, he smiled, and crouched down to snake his arm between the roots and pluck up the ball from its prison. He stood up and exclaimed, “See? There is no need to worry, I—”
His foot caught on the root as he turned back to them, a gasp sounding out from him as he slipped further. He couldn’t grab the tree in time and fell, flailing momentarily, into the pond. Sally clamped her hands over her mouth in surprise and the children cried out in shock. Mere moments later, the skeleton man was sitting up in the water, a lily pad sticking atop his skull. To Sally’s surprise, he let out a laugh as he plucked the greenery from his head.
“I, I really need to start listening to you, Sally!” He grinned, turning his head to them. He then lifted his hand to reveal the ball. “But I wouldn’t call this a failure by any means.” The children cheered. Sally smiled and lowered her hands. Helping Jack from the pond proved to be more interesting than Sally would have liked to admit. Warning the children to be more careful around the pond, he returned their toy to them, and smiled as they thanked him and hurried off. Only when they were out of sight, did Jack immediately wrap his bony arms around himself and began to tremble.
“Are you okay, Jack?” Sally asked in a soft tone, moving to hold his arm. “You’re shaking like a leaf…”
“I-I, I, ah, forgot how-how cold the waters were.” He stuttered out, giving her a sheepish smile. He was… Cold? Suddenly, she remembered the oven mitt, and then the needle. Jack could feel. Somehow, Sally was shocked. No skin, no nerves, no cloth, no – nothing. But he could feel. This piqued her interest.
That evening, in Jack’s home, curled up together on the couch with the fire crackling before them; Jack read as Sally worked on needlework. They enjoyed the silence together; comfortable actions were actions spoke so much louder than words. Sally was still thinking about Jack being able to feel, so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t seem to notice that she was stitching herself to her own needlework. Jack glanced up from turning the next page his book and hurriedly put his hand over hers to stop her.
“Oh, Sally, your fingers…!” He mumbled. She blinked a few times before looking down at her mistake, frowning at the sight of her patchwork flesh partially sewn into the clean, cream coloured cloth she was working with. Quickly, Jack pulled over her sewing scissors to help in freeing her fingers. “You’ve been so distracted again, my dear, has something been on your mind?” He was always so observant at all the wrong times. Once her fingers were free, she held her hand to watch her fingers slowly curl and uncurl with their familiar freedom.
“Well, I, I uh,” She shook her head and turned her gaze downwards, rubbing her fingers, fidgeting almost, “I’m sorry, Jack, I, I don’t mean to worry you. It’s just, I, well I, it’s…” Sally was halted when Jack’s slender hand moved over her own smaller, petite hands. He squeezed her hands in encouragement. His bones felt cold. She could feel the ridges and grooves and joints. She looked up and saw his warm, comforting smile.
“You can tell me,” he assured her, “go ahead.”
She looked down at her hands, at his hands, their hands entwined slowly. Her hands fit so perfectly in his own. A spider finding its web, she believed. She held his hand with both of hers and turned his palm upwards, her thumbs rubbing in slow circles.
“How… Can you feel…?” She asked with hesitation, not noticing his confused, amused smile.
“How can I feel?” He repeated with a chuckle. “I feel fine. I’m warmed up now, so I feel better. But uh, on terms of ‘how’, I’m not sure what you mean. Can you explain?”
She wasn’t sure how to reply to that, finding interest in squeezing over his fingers and playing with them casually. She liked his hands. They were interesting. They were fascinating to her. Her head tilted to the side as she glanced over the dips in his hands. There were chips and scratches in his bones, they were worn in and obviously had age embedded into them. She wondered about his battles, his growing up, and wondered about where the marks could have come from.
Jack filled the silence with the answer to his own question, “Well I… I feel like you do. Like anyone does. I don’t really know how else to answer that.” He chuckled anyway. Sally brushed her fingertips over his palm and his fingers curled slightly, a jolt. She paused again when she heard a quiet snicker. She gave him a curious look and he watched her for a moment before humming quietly. “Sorry, sorry, ticklish.” He replied. Sally was more confused than ever. She couldn’t help but blurt out,
“How can a skeleton be ticklish?” Jack paused; Sally perked up. “Wait, you’re ticklish? You?” She watched Jack’s smile drop the moment she said it, as if realizing what he himself had just admitted. The master of fright suddenly looked very, very nervous.
“No?” He tried, his smile showing his nerves. “I mean, no. Of course not. I’m a skeleton, we can’t feel.” He waved his free hand in dismissal and Sally raised a brow.
“Is that why you used an oven mitt to take the pie out?” He did his best to ignore her as he stared at the fireplace, almost looking embarrassed, and she carried on, “Or reacted like that when I accidentally pricked your finger?” He squirmed a bit under her gaze as she scooted closer, and he scooted back. “Or shivered from the cold when you fell in the pond before…?”
“Sally, I, look—” He tried, glancing around the room for some excuse to get up. She had never seen him react like this; the poise and elegant and creepy Pumpkin King suddenly so nervous by /her/ bringing up such a childish, silly notion? Seeing her hand reach for his side, he sprang up from the couch and backed up a bit, his hands raising in a bit of defense. Her smile grew into a small grin as she, too, stepped off from the couch. “Oh, okay, so, I-I can feel. Yes. But I’m not –”
“Ticklish?” Sally piped in as she slowly crept towards the skeleton who backed away further, he seemingly flinched at the word.
“No! I mean, yes! I mean, uh, I-I think I hear the, the door. I should check on that, shouldn’t we? I mean- I? Shouldn’t I?” Jack was stuttering, Sally giggled at the change of tone from the skeleton. She wondered if she could corner him. While, yes, she was taking over the power from this situation – he was always faster, and stronger, and more nimble than she was. She had seen him fight, seen him play, seen him in both flight and fight; and she couldn’t tell which side he was on this round.
“Jaa~ck.” She sung out in a sweet tone, raising her own hands in claw-like positions. Jack shook his head and pushed his arms out to gently keep her at such length.
“Sally, please—” He managed out as a grin already tugged at his skull. “This is ridiculous, let’s, let’s move on from this. I should really check the door. What if it’s important? It could be the Mayor and…” He trailed off. Sally lurched forward and Jack was running before she got her second step in. “Sally!” Sally laughed excitedly and took off after him, lifting up her dress slightly as not to step on it. The home was small, the chase more or less leading around in awkward, lumpy circles that occasionally led them over a piece of furniture.
It couldn’t have lasted more than ten minutes before Sally managed to grab his tailcoats, and pull on such a way as he was halfway over the bed – leading him into stumbling and being taken down onto the floor. Sally watched to make sure he wasn’t hurt for only a moment before descending onto her darling. She giggled as she moved to straddle his back, trapping his chest against the floor. His arms waved and flailed for a moment and tried to look back at her, cutting himself off with a sudden bark of laughter as she reached down for his ribs.
Her fingers lightly skittered and spidered up his ribs, getting another shocked laugh out of the skeleton. She smiled and squeezed against his ribs as he clamped his arms down at his sides to the best of his ability, which didn’t prove to do much given how thin they were. Sally’s smile only grew as his surprisingly loud laughter bubbled out, his form squirming under her light weight. Attempting to grab at her hands proved useless as she simply moved upwards to evade them. His arms clamped back down in response. His bony fingers curled against the floor and his legs kicked out weakly. He didn’t want to hurt her, after all.
“So, you weren’t ticklish, huh?” She teased playfully, kneading into the upper half of his ribs through his suit. “I do hope you weren’t lying to me, dear. Because if you /were/ lying, well, I’m not sure.” She giggled as his laughter jumped up in pitch suddenly, “I’d lie too and say I’ll quit soon.” Jack attempted to twist himself around but failed when Sally squeezed his waist gently between her knees. He instead laid there, long arms awkwardly waving and flailing and grabbing at the floor, shoulders shaking with his helpless laughter.
Jack was more than embarrassed at that point. To be taken down so easily and so quickly for something so childish and silly? An idea suddenly popped into his skull and he reached back, grabbing at her waist, getting her to pause before giving her sides a firm squeeze. The doll let out a girlish squeal and jolted back, giving Jack enough room to suddenly push himself up and get his darling to fall onto her hip beside him. The skeleton acted quickly, pulling her close with a grin.
“Jack!” She squeaked out as the other leaned over her, then burst out in bubbly laughter as he skittered his sharp fingers up her sides. She pushed at his hands and arms, laughing sweetly. Jack laughed himself and smiled down at her.
“Why Sally, you’re practically in stitches!” He teased, squeezing again at her sides. She tossed back her head and squeaked out in laughter, grabbing at his wrists uselessly. He continued for a minute or so longer before ceasing his attack, instead holding her sides once more. The ragdoll was left in giggles on the floor, with Jack still leaning over her. She looked up at him and then hurriedly looked away as her hands moved to cover his face. Jack sat back on his knees and grinned at her, then also looked away. “… I… I like your laugh.”
She peeked at him through her fingers, still giggling. “I like yours.”
They stared at each other for a moment or two longer before Jack rose back to his feet, carefully helping his darling back to her feet. Still smiling, the couple returned to the couch. They curled up together once more, closer than before, entangled around each other’s limbs. Jack rested his chin atop Sally’s head, and Sally nuzzled into his chest.
And the couple returned to comfortable, loving silence.