It took us almost a month to find Joseph. He had hidden away after my sister's death, and it royally pissed me off. The police hadn't stopped by to ask me any questions, and i presumed they must have either forgotten about me or something was wrong and they suspected me, so in my spare time i had started packing away the house. I wanted to leave with Danny, the sooner the better.

"Calm yourself, darling...we found him. We'll get him soon." He said, sitting on the couch to watch me pace.

"When?" I hissed, pacing back and forth across my living room. I had been set on edge with the need to find him for days, and it was only getting worse ever since we did find him.

Danny sighed and stood from the couch, crossing the room to halt my manic pacing. He held his hands on my arms, rubbing my shoulder soothingly.

"We'll get him soon. He's not going anywhere right now. He's got his plaything there with him, and we need her out of the way. We need an opportunity for him to be alone to make our move."

"I can't wait that long." I grumbled, "i want to leave town already with you." I whined, leaning into his chest.

"We'll be gone as soon as we finish the house...what's left to do?" He asked, rubbing my arms.

"My office and our bedroom." I looked at the stacks upon stacks of boxes, piled high and labelled with various rooms in bold, black sharpie that lined the wall. He rubbed my back soothingly as he wrapped his arms around me.

"I'll handle the bedroom tomorrow, okay? You can pack up your office. Which reminds me, i need to go to my place and get the last of my things." He kissed the top of my head and pushed me off him gently, a small smile on his face.

"I'll be right back, alright, my heart?" He gently petted my face, kissing my forehead and releasing me.

"Hurry back, i want to go stake out his place tonight."

"Of course, darling." He kissed me one last time and left me alone for the first time since he came crashing into my life. It really wasnt so long ago, but it felt like he's been around for forever. I can't imagine not having him in my life ever again.

It made me literally sick to my stomach.

Sick enough that i went to the bathroom and waited it out, just in case. My head continued to spin with anxious thoughts and worry, muddled with the need to finish what i started. I sat there for a long time on the cold tile until i felt my stomach begin to give, and i heaved into the toilet. Suzie came up to meow at me softly, headbutting my knee and laying in my lap to comfort me as i threw my guts up. When i finally finished i panted with the exertion and closed my eyes, resting my forehead against my arm. It felt like an eternity that i sat there, i had no idea how long it was. I stood up, flushing the toilet and began brushing my teeth absently, my head felt fuzzy and my stomach ached. I just wanted to get this taste out of my mouth. I rinsed out my mouth and held my hand under the cool water for a moment, and rested it behind my neck.

"Dollface?" I heard as Danny came inside. I neglected to respond, for fear that he'd hear the sickness in my voice.

"Y/n?" He called, sounding a little worried as he ascended the stairs. I heard his soft footsteps as he looked around the hallway, and wandered into our bedroom. I followed into the room behind him, watching as he set a mildly dusty box down on the desk in our room.

"Oh. There you are." He said, the relief visible as he released the breath he was holding.

"I want to show you something." He said, taking the lid of the office box and pulling out a few stacks of pictures. He set several of them to the side and reached for the very bottom of the box as i came to stand next to him. He produced a stack of pictures and handed the small developed photo stack.

"What are these?" I asked, flipping through them, each of this stack of photos had very gruesome and bloody scenes. They almost looked fake with how much blood and gore scattered across the room.

"These are my keepsakes. That particular photo stack you're holding is from my very first murder." He said, sounding proud of himself. I intently stared at the pictures, examining every detail. The last photo was of a man, sitting in an old fabric recliner. It looked like it was from the 90's. He was young, and had a baby in his lap, but the baby's face and most of it's body was scratched out. The man's expression was blank, like he was disconnected and unamused to be there. He just looked bored behind his thin aviator-framed gold glasses.

"Who was this?" I asked, looking at Danny.

"My father, Jed Olsen." He look at the photo, his eyes filled with some mixture of distaste and...fear.

"I killed him because he abused me and my mom, bad. She almost didn't survive his last assault, but he didn't survive mine. I donned the Ghostface mask and broke into my own bedroom, and ripped him apart in his favorite chair." He continued, fidgeting with a stack he was trying to keep hidden from me by putting it in his back pocket.

"So...this kid in his lap is you then?" I pointed to the mangled image of the small child.

"...yes. that's me. I...couldn't have my face in that stack." He looked away from it and shook his head slowly.

"Danny...why are you showing me this?" I looked at him, my chest tight with potential outcomes to this conversation.

"...because, against all my instincts, i...want to open up to you. I want to hear your stories, and i want to tell you mine." He carressed my cheek softly, and his brow furrowed. He patted my forehead with the back of my hand and tilted his head.

"Are you okay, love? You're burning up." He planted both hands against my face to double check, and he frowned. I hummed softly and closed my eyes, resting into his hands.

"Honey, get into bed. I think you're getting sick." He said, taking his hands back and scooping me off the ground into his arms. He crossed the room in a few steps and carried me into the bed, settling me down on the edge and pulling a blanket to my waist. He took the photo stack out of my hands and petted my hair.

"Can i get you anything, darling? Water? Are you hungry?"

"Danny, I'm fine. I'm just tired."

"You are not fine, you have a fever." He growled sternly, and sat on the bed next to me.

"Love, i can't have you being sick. Please rest." He sighed, worry and concern pricked at his eye brows, making them twitch. I sighed, defeated.

"Can you please get me some water?" I asked, petting his arm.

"Of course. But if your fever hasn't broken by tomorrow, we're taking you to the doctor." He kissed my forehead and stood up, retreating from the room. Of course he'd be so insistent on going to a doctor. I hate doctors.

I rolled over in bed and closed my eyes, sleep came much faster than it would normally, but i could hear Danny walking back into the room and sitting next to me. He hummed to himself softly and stroked his fingers through my hair, his hands were so gentle and soothing it lulled me to sleep within moments.