A deep yell scratches his throat as he grabs a chair and throws it to the ground in anger. The movement hurts him further, sending him deeper into the red anger and pain.

He falls to his knees at the ground, clutching his side and arm. He hears feet run down the stairs as Y/n, eyes wide with terror, sprints towards him.

She falls to her knees at his side, but hesitates, fearing him in his panicked state. Thomas proceeds to growl and snarl like a wounded animal. He wasn't far from it.

"Thomas, calm down!"

The back door slams open, and a soaked Hoyt stomps inside. He kicks aside the chair Thomas threw, before turning to the two of them.

"Shut him up, will ya? I can't hear myself think!"

Y/n softly grabs Thomas's uninjured arm. He looks at her, brows furrowed and face red.

"Thomas, calm down! Get up on the chair, let me help you."

He complies, not letting go of where the bullet grazed his skin.

"Take off your shirt." Her voice is stern.

He let's go of his side, taking off his blood soaked shirt. Y/n chews her lip nervously at the sight of his wound.

In any other situation, Thomas would not have taken his shirt off so easily. But the pain was daggers in his bones. He grabbed the tables edge roughly as Y/n's fingers traces the gash.

He grunts in pain, his teeth mashing together.

"Shit, sorry. I need my sowing kit, and some alcohol. . ."

"I got it." Hoyt says, stomping into the kitchen.

"Thomas, what happened out there?" She asks him.

He only groans in pain, knuckles turning white around the table edge.

Her eyes trace over to them, then the wounds on his arms. The puncture room from the screwdriver, and the deep nail marks.

Hoyt comes back in, a package of bandages, a sowing kit, and alcohol in his arms.

"Tommy's not gonna like this."

Hoyt sets them down on the table.

"This is gonna hurt, okay?" Y/n says, opening the bottle of alcohol.

Slowly, she pours it over the wound on his stomach.

Immediatly, he screams in pain, hand slapping y/n's away. She steps back, biting her lip.

"I'll hold him down, you finish cleaning him!" Hoyt says, grabbing Thomas's arms and holding them at his sides.

As Thomas proceeds to snarl and struggle like an animal, y/n douses his other wound in alcohol.

With quick, shaking hands, she pats them dry with a towel.

"Thomas, I'm done cleaning them so I need you to calm down, okay?"

He nods, breathing heavily.

Hoyt lets go, backing up and putting a hand on the back of his head.

Y/n starts dressing his puncture wound, his breathing slowing down and his pained snarls dying off.

"Those fuckin' kids. Unbelievable!" Hoyt starts shouting.

"They fucked us up! And that bitch got away!"

Thomas notices Y/n freeze when Hoyt says that last part. With shaking hands, she proceeds to get out her sowing kit.

"Had to chase her out in the rain. That crazy bitch had a gun! Can you believe that?" Hoyt continues.

"This is gonna hurt again, okay?" Y/n says to Thomas. He huffs, bracing himself.

She takes the needle and thread, lacing it through the top of the wound on his stomach.

He flinches roughly, but it's considerably less pain than the cleaning. Once he gets use to it, he watches y/n work.

She's down on one knee, sweating with focus as she pulls the needle through his skin. Her hair falls inti her face. It reminds Thomas of when she was making the mask in the basement. Thankfully she has years of experience with sowing.

She wipes away a drop of sweat from her forehead, dragging his blood across her face.

She finally finishes the last stitch, cutting it away.

"No strenuous movement for a while, okay? You'll open it up."

Thomas nods. Hoyt paces the room behind them.

"We have to get out of here."

At this, the two of them turn to him.

"That woman got away, she'll contact the police, and they'll catch us."

"Where will we go?" Y/n asks.

He ignores her, heading into the living room.

"Luda!" He calls out.

Y/n turns back to Thomas

He meets her wide eyes. With a shaky voice, she leans closer to his face from between his shaking knees.

"Thomas, I need you to listen to me. Was that woman he was talking about a brunette?"

She was. But it's clear in her expression that that is not the answer she wants to hear. Her eyes are wide with fear. It reminds Thomas of when he first kidnapped her, and she asked a similar question.

He doesn't want to upset her further. So he lies.

He shakes his head. Y/n sighs with relief.

She lowers her head, resting it against his chest. When she looks back up at him, he sees years worth of stress and fatigue on her face. Or perhaps just three months of it.

"You really scared me, Tommy."

He grunts, leaning back and closing his eyes. He feels the night settle upon his body, pushing it's full weight on him. He's exhausted.

A gasp comes from the kitchen doorway. He opens it and looks over. Luda stands there.

She rushes over, grabbing his face.

"Charlie, what did the two of you do?"

"I already told you! It was those damn kids! They tried breaking in!" Hoyt yells, following behind Luda.

"Are you two alright?" She asks them.

Thomas nods.

"None of us are! We need to get out of here!" Hoyt yells.

"Charlie, calm down. Where would we even go?"

"Our cousins up north! They can house us! We can pack up the truck and leave by sunday!"

"This is too much. Y/n, take Tommy up to bed, you guys need rest."

Y/n nods, helping Thomas up. He leans against her, almost crushing her under his weight. She struggles beneath him, helping him towards the stairs. There, he uses the railing for support.

Her soft hands never leave his body. They hold onto his arm as he climbs up.

She opens the bedroom door and sits Thomas down on the bed.

He lays down slowly, careful of the stitches. Y/n sits next to him, looking down at the bedroom floor. He watches her, drinking in the sight of her. His blood on her face and hands. On her clothes. Her hair everywhere, nothing but his big t-shirt and underwear on.

His hand reaches out to her shoulder. She grabs it, breaking out of her trance.

"Thomas. . . I don't want to leave with you guys. I don't want to go to your cousins house."

He ignores her words. She doesn't mean it. She loves him. She'll never leave him. She'll go wherever he goes.

He pulls her towards him. She complies, laying up against his back.

Exhaustion sets back in him, creeping into every nook and cranny of his body. He drifts off to sleep.