Scream My Name || Billy Loomis x Stu Macher ✔️

faults.

Weeks go by. Stu and I got discharged from the hospital only a few days apart. Despite everything, my dad was still an asshole. It was expected, so the Macher's would usually find me crashing as their place.

While I was there, I realized why Stu loved his parents so much. I hadn't been able to empathize before. I thought he was stupid for loving such people. Now, I know. It's going to be really hard for him, but I plan to be there every step of the way.

At the moment, Stu was out in the kitchen getting us lunch. I was in his bed, my arm covering my face. I don't know why I've been so tired lately. Maybe everything is catching up with me finally.

Whatever it was, was making me sick to my stomach. Maybe I jumped into this too fast. No, no, I can't. I can't have thoughts like this. I'm a fucking killer. There's no time for anxiety about the past. It's done now.

It was her fault. It was her fault. It was her whore of a mother that made me do this. I had to. My dad is such a fucking prick. They did this to me. They created this monster.

"Baby doll? You okay?"

My lips press together in a thin line. I nod, wanting sleep to overcome me. I hear a plate touch his side table and then the bed creak. My arm is pulled away from my face, forcing me to look up at him.

"What are you thinking about?" His eyebrows are pressed together, making an expression I don't like. I don't want him to worry. We are supposed to be happy.

Chills are sent through my body, filling it with more anxiety. My hands are trembling, I can feel it. "I-I..." After a few seconds, I roll out of the bed. Stu follows me as I go to the bathroom. "I just have to take a piss."

"Billy-"

I shut the door in his face, sliding down it into a sitting position. Burying my face in my hands, I take a few deep breaths.

"Billy, baby, talk to me."

"I can't," I whisper. He's going to get mad at me if I say anything. He's going to get mad because I made him do it. I just wanted revenge for what she did. He's going to be mad. If I tell him, I don't know what he'll do to me. Maybe he will hurt me. Maybe I deserve it.

He knocks, begging, "Bill, please come out. Whatever is bothering you, talk to me."

Maybe I'd be better off dead.

I stand quickly, panic filling me as that thought rings through my head. I don't want to die.

I fling open the door, it hitting the wall with a bang. He stares at me with concern, letting me jump into his arms. I bury my face in his shoulder, taking in a shuddering breath.

"Not right now, please."

"That's okay. I'll be here when you want to talk about it." He lifts me, letting me cling onto his front. He walks us back to the bedroom, laying down and grabbing the tv remote.

I take in deep breaths of his scent, letting it soothe my racing heart. His rubs my back, saying nothing more about it. I take the bottom of his shirt in between my fingers, rolling the soft material.

"Just a few more weeks."