《A/n: Thank you all for the names :) they have been choosen and will be revealed soon enough (however not in this chapter) 》

You stirred awake to the feeling of fingers lazily playing with your shortened strands.

Your body tensed as your eyes opened. Your gaze wandering around the scene in your peripheral view. Laying on the bed within one of the Strode house's rooms. You felt the bed dip behind you as an arm pulled you to the firm chest, and you can only guess who.

Then you shuddered in the loose hug, yawning as your senses returned. Michael's hand lifted to your cheek, turning your head gently so he could look at you. "Better?"

You pursed your lips, putting effort in sitting up with a long stretch. When you felt a pop from your back, you relaxed your arms to your sides.

"You... did this?"

You were given a nod, his hand grasping your arm and coaxing you to his side. A firm shake of the head, and you paused as your stomach growled... in hunger.

There was a same brief look of confusion on his face. Before he shifted himself and moved off the bed. You were helped out of bed, despite the soft protests that you signed.

You were led downstairs, letting the news set into reality.

Not only were you now trapped here as everyone else was. But you were hungry too? You'd been told that hunger wasn't an issue from the others, nor was dehydration or using a bathroom. There was something off from what happened to you. You were certainly in a different position than the others, and as much as you'd like an explanation right this second, but you'd ask Michael after you had something to eat.

Is there even food here? You pressed your lips in a line as you followed Michael into the kitchen, his taller frame blocking the light of the room from your eyes. You still felt as though you weren't truly here, you knew that was a lie.

He stared at nothing for a while, and if it hadn't been so silent in the room you might've missed the quiet mumbles leaving his mask.

Then in a cloud of smoke, a basic breakfast - despite the darkness outside - was formed from nothing infront of your eyes.

Michael picked up the platter, bringing over to you at the two person dining table.

"Thank you." You signed, staring quizzically at the plate of food. Before you could ask for either a fork or spoon, it appeared infront of you, next to the plate the same way the food had appeared. A cloud of black smoke. You picked up the metal utensil, examining it with furrowed brows before stabbing it into the food.

A hand stopped you, Michael kneeling by your side and lifted his mask up to his nose. He guided your hand to his lips, taking a bite from your given meal. He tilted his head after you saw his throat move, swallowing the food. You didn't blame him from being paranoid, and after a second he guided your hand back to it's previous spot. Standing and readjusting the mask on his head and looked at you expectingly.

You brought the food to your mouth, chewing it while meeting Michael's curious eyes. Chew, chew, swallow.

It was tasteless.

Just, tasteless. The texture, the feeling was there - it was solid food, but it was just... tasteless. Nothing. No hint of it on your tongue.

You looked to the food disappointingly, and Michael patted you on the head before pointing to your growing stomach. You force a smile, right, despite me not liking it, I need it.

You ate the meal with distaste, already missing the flavour of food in your mouth. And you started to realize you'd miss much more. Your shoulders fell and so did your gaze.

You couldn't see your brother, have the feeling of a paintbrush in your hand, having talks with Leah and Amélia. Short walks outside or the feeling of sunlight on your (pale/tan/dark) skin.

You still had Michael though.

You hadn't realized you had stopped eating until you were brought into a hug. A choked sob left you, emotions crashing down in one impactful hit to you mentally.

You went limp in his arms, letting the waterworks run. You didn't like crying, you don't think anyone does. But you didn't hold them back, it'd be more painful to do that.

•▪°○°▪•

You were taken to the living room, the leftovers of your meal forgotten. Handed tissues and placed down in the couch.

If only you could sleep and forget, as "last night's" rest was the best you've had in months. Though you weren't tired, you still wanted to.

"I want an explanation." You sign when your tears slow. Michael kneels on the ground infront of you. Retrieving a replacement notepad from the coffee table.

I have to protect you.

You read the small message, smiling sadly. "I know... but this? I'm already protected, from the bracelet." Michael curtly shakes his head stubbornly, his face falling onto your lap as he hugs your legs to his chest. You wanted to run your fingers through his real hair, the dirty blond hair you liked rather than the fake dark brown his mask held. You did anyway, because it felt like you had to, real hair or not.

His hug on your legs tightened for a brief moment before it loosened. All you could hear were the sounds of his breathing and the noises from outside. You paused then tapped his shoulder, waiting for him to turn his head up to look at what you wanted to sign.

"Will you go easy on the survivors?" You saw his eyes squint with confusion, "we want to escape, don't you? We could stay together in Haddonfield, we could give the children a life in the real world. Don't you want that?"

It was a fifty/fifty chance you need to take. Because this wasn't just for you. This was for your unborn children, and for the other survivors who want to get out to return to the life they deserve. The life they've been surviving to return to.

Michael hugged your legs closer, nodding his head slowly.

"Can I take off your mask?" This was far less than a fifty chance, probing him out from the comfort zone. Hoping you could really see his face again if he'd allow you. There was a slow given nod, and you smiled just as slow. Your hands moved to the edges of his mask, stretching it and pulling it off his head carefully.

Placing it next to you on the couch, you cupped his face and pressed your lips to his forehead. He shifted, now kneeling while he accepted your invitation to a hug. You ran your hand through his dark blonde hair.

As much as you hated his decision for deterring you, you couldn't stop loving him. Especially the more softer side of him, the side you have the one access key to.

"Can we take a walk? Outside? I'm barely ever able to really explore the branch realms and their surroundings." You ask, because not only is it true but you wanted to keep yourself busy for the moment.

Michael nods, grabbing his signature mask and slipped it on. Assisting you on your feet.

All you seem to be doing recently is distracting yourself. But it's been working.

•▪°○°▪•

He's gone. Taken to a game and you get your chance to talk to the others again.

It's night? Well you can't be sure, since it's always night. But it certainly felt as though it were night time.

Pushing yourself out of bed, and trying to see the steps while walking down the stairs takes some effort. Though you pull it off, and get your discarded sweater from the couch. The clothing is too small to be zipped over your baby bump, and you don't try forcing it.

You look around the room one more time, before your eyes locked on the notebook Michael used erlier. A few steps later, you grab it off the coffee table (taking the pen with you) and you make your way to the door.

It takes a while for you to find your way out of Haddonfield and into the killer's camp. To your luck, out of the three killers present at the fire, only one of them hated you (or rather the survivors in general). That being the Hag, seeing as she'd probably want to rip out your liver and devour it.

You walk past, hoping to be ignored by them anyway. Not making eye contact, staying quiet, and trying to walk past without issue.

"Do you need help?" You pause, turning. The Pig crossed her arms, tapping her foot, and you shifted your weight from foot to foot. You nod your head, and tense up as she walks towards you. Getting ready to bolt if she tries anything.

"Calm down, I'm not really keen on killing you. Not like I can." Her Pig mask tilts your was as she stops next to you. "Where is the fun without using traps?"

You send her a questioning gaze, letting her lead the way while you (tensely) walked next to her. She explains further, confusing you a bit on how open she was being. "I... work for a man - or did." She scoffs and laughs, and you're not sure which she wanted to convey more. "John Kramer. He was my teacher... he taught me not to throw my life away. And now I worked under him."

You nod, avoiding yourself from showing the surprise on your face. She still takes notice barking a laugh, "yeah, I've been looking for good conversation, even if it's more one-sided. No offense." You shrug and then nod at her next question; "You know the reverse bear traps I use right? Well John was the one who created them. Neat hm?" You nod again, slightly while being put off by the fact. The contraption had to be created by someone to work so flawlessly at its job.

"Ah, we're here." You stop, glancing around and just up ahead was the camp fire. From what you could make out, there were three survivors sitting by the flame.

You nod to her in thanks, and the woman waves you off. Turning away and taking a few steps before saying to you; "don't waste away your life."

And then she's gone.

I won't, I'll make sure of it. The mental words pass through your mind. You swore not to do both drugs or alcohol, and if the chance presented itself. You'd turn it down immediately. You're surely not as reckless as others may be, especially when being pregnant.

You approached the fire, and right the second you were spotted, you were brought into a hug by Nea.

"Jesus! You worried the shit out of me with that whole thing erlier." She moves to your side to hug you, easier at that angle. "Is it true? And are you handling it okay?"

You nod, grateful for her concern. She breaths a sigh, "okay, good." Her eyes are focused back on you when you step back to show the note pad and pen in your hand.

Pointing to the logs, you walk over and sat down. Quentin scooched closer to know what you had to tell them.

"We need to plan, or else we'll break our streak." You write, showing it to Nea who reads it to Quentin and Bill.

"You're totally right on that one. Now, where do we start?" Nea places her hands on her hips, still standing by your side.

You turn your attention to the paper on your lap, and then began go write down your given options.

__________

《A/n: Aloha, thank you all for your patience, hope you liked it ^^

Ciao~!》