Jack's eyes widened at the question. [i]"Why?"[/i] She had asked. Why did he always want to help her. "That's just how I am." He retorted quickly. But it wasn't true. He wasn't like that. He wasn't that way at all. He didn't care about the well-being of others. Just her. But why? "It's irritating." He told her. "Irritating that I can't give you an answer because I don't fucking know myself." 

"Maybe it's because. You're different." 

That was the truth. Lex was different than any girl he had ever met, she treated him like he wasn't something special, she practically had to force herself to put up with him. He [i]wanted[/i] her to like him, whether it meant getting with her or not, he finally didn't care. This was deeper than that, this was about something else entirely. It was about being accepted and about making someone understand. 

Even possibly it was about making someone not hate him. 

"I want to ask why you hate me, but I already know the answer." Jack made Lexa sit by pushing her hand off his shoulder and pressing on her shoulders so she would sit. Then he backed away. "You make me feel things I've never felt before. and I'm not talking about that lovey dovey shit. I'm talking about... you make me feel... human... I guess?"