Silence came over the both of us, an eager smile sat on my face as I studied Michael, searching for any signs of an objection to my statement.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" I asked, continuing to tend to his wounds.

After a moment of waiting, the kitchen fell silent and I was left to treat his bullet holes quietly. Which I didn't mind, it gave me the chance to think long and hard about what exactly was happening at this very moment.

I took a step back and threw away the many blood stained paper towels before making my way to one of the top cabinets. I yanked it open and stood on my toes in an attempt to see what was inside. I glanced back at Michael, who watched me curiously— though he showed no signs of helping me with my objective.

I sighed and reached my hand into the shelves within the small door, managing to pull out a small box with a medical symbol printed onto it.

With that I spun around and made my way back to Michael, setting the tiny box down and pulling it open to see what exactly was inside. "You need bandages so that those won't bleed more. I don't know about stitches though... How do you feel?" I asked, curious to see how much his torn flesh hurt. After all, if he could survive six gun shots to his chest and stomach; what could he not handle?

Michael tensed slightly, taking a step behind me and looking into the box— practically hovering over me in the process, which in turn made a red tint rush across my cheeks.

I swallowed hard and bit my lip, not daring to move whilst the tall slasher examined what was inside the medical box.

He reached into the small compartment and pulled out a roll of bandages, finally taking a few steps back so that I could turn back to him.

"Okay..." I murmured, only for him to tighten his grip on the roll and shove it against my chest; which did indeed make my blush worsen. I scoffed out of embarrassment, growing flustered, before taking the bandages from Michaels hand and carefully moving his fist away from my bust.

"So no stitches. Gotcha." I smiled, stepping forward and beginning to wrap the roll around his chest, moving onto his stomach soon after. Spots of blood began to seep through the cloth as I did this.

I continued to layer the roll until no more blood could be seen sneaking past the thick fabric. I huffed breathlessly and tossed the bandaging back into its container, clapping my hands together soon after. "There you go..." I mumbled shyly, bowing my head.

Michaels breathing seemed to become ragged as he looked down at his now treated injuries, possibly relieved. With that, he brushed his strong hands along his chest, feeling every texture of the fabric that now protected his body.

"Do you feel any different? I did my best." I attempted to explain, cleaning up my mess in haste, wanting to focus all of my attention on my life long friend whom I had just reunited with.

My mind still couldn't seem to comprehend the fact that Michael was alive. Just a few hours ago I had thought he was dead and gone; and now out of the blue he was standing directly in front of me.

I swallowed hard, not completely knowing what to do without Michael doing something first.

The tall slasher huffed heavily, adjusting his black shirt and the top of his mechanics suit to fit him correctly once again. With that small task out of the way he made his way past me, his boots brushing against the wooden floor as he searched the house curiously; taking in all of its details and decorations.

I followed him aimlessly, not at all wanting to leave his side after that horrid halloween night.

"Do you want to talk about Laurie and Loomis? About killing them?" I asked wondrously, tilting my head as he stopped walking, his shoulders rising as tension rushed through his masculine frame.

I studied him for a moment, watching as he peered over his shoulder to look back at me, only to shift his feet so he could face me completely.

We stared at each other for a moment, silence overtaking the house for the time being.

"We don't have to though..." I murmured, hanging my head shyly, fidgeting with my fingers— suddenly feeling subconscious around him.

Michael didn't quite respond, instead he placed his strong hands a top my shoulders and shoved me back a bit, now nudging me toward the stairwell.

I held my breath and obeyed his every push, not wanting to annoy him. So, I ambled up the stairs and felt my heart skip a beat, the sound of the floorboards creaking beneath Michaels feet triggering a sense of reality to wash over me for a moment. I sighed shakily and looked back at him, finally reaching the top of the steps.

"Where to, mister?" I asked him, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips as I studied his emotionless mask.

The tall male breathed steadily, his once forceful jabs at me now gentle as he carefully lead me towards my room down the hall. His dark eyes staring intently at the door from beneath his eery mask.

"Do you wanna meet my new puppy? He showed up in the living room a while ago..." I explained, determined to keep the silence from consuming us.

I pursed my lips together and whistled softly, hoping the small dog would come bounding up the stairs to meet Michael.

Unfortunately though, the dog wasn't quite fast enough as Michael made his way to the room with me, quickly pushing the door shut with his boot. The soft sound of scratching against the wooden door being evident as the both of us remained silent.

"Poor boy," I murmured in disappointment before directing my attention to Michael, who stood just in front of the door and stared down at me.

I clapped my hands together and bounced on my heels, looking down at the wedding dress Michael had put me in while I was unconscious earlier.

"So..." I mumbled, glancing up at the tall serial killer to see if he was going to do anything.

"Laurie and Loomis still think i'm innocent..." I began, taking a few steps away from the male before me so that I could make my way towards the window and peered out of it. The sun was beginning to rise and I could already see someone out walking their friendly dog. Another house had already turned their lights on and were possibly preparing an early breakfast. Through the window of yet another house across the street I could see what looked to be two children up way past their bedtime, watching television.

I smiled a bit at the many sights ahead of me, heavy footsteps behind me catching my attention. I looked over my shoulder as Michael made his way quietly towards my frame, his hand moving to gently touch my back, his fingers carefully running down my spine as he studied me.

I held my breath, my body tensing at this sudden touch. I'd never been able to see Michael so touchy, so clingy?

He'd always been quiet and reserved. The most we'd ever done in the sanitarium was hold hands— but even then it had never felt genuine.

This however, it felt as though he was trying to make me do something.

Something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

Eventually I closed my eyes, allowing my body to relax while Michaels hand roamed my back, gliding around my waist and towards my ribs, feeling each curve of bone within my body.

"Michael..." I whispered, swallowing hard as I sat up a bit; my cheeks burning from the attention he was giving me.

The tall man wrapped his other arm around my waist and pulled me back so that my backside was pressed against him, his occupied hand carefully caressing the marks of where my bones were.

"You can use me to get to them... I can talk to Loomis... Have him come over... And then we get him." I continued anxiously, my heart pounding rapidly against my chest; which seemed to have gotten Michaels attention. He swiftly moved his callused hand toward my chest, resting his palm against it whilst he embraced my heartbeat and breathing.

I could hear him sigh quietly, his heavy breaths not giving me much of a hint as to what was going on.

"Then we can move on to Laurie - or Angel if that's what you prefer... She still wants to be my friend. I'll talk to her... See if I can get her to come over as well, and then we kill her too." I plotted, trying to distract myself from the fact that Michael had now shifted his hand to my neck, taking in the feeling of my pulse.

"What do you think of all that, Michael?" I asked, biting my lip and lowering my head, the feelings washing over me driving me a bit crazier.

I waited in silence for a moment, waiting for the shape against me to do something.

And when he did, it was surely unexpected.

The slasher quickly spun me around, slouching so he could be level with me before pressing the lips of his white mask against my own.

My eyes widened in confusion, my cheeks burning even more than before.

I waited a moment, not entirely sure what to do.

That's when Michael pulled away and studied the expression that had spread across my face. With that he grabbed ahold of his mask and pulled it up so that his mouth (and only that) was visible to me.

He proceeded to then place his hands against the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair, and then kiss me.

Quite passionately, too...