Let Me In || Ticci Toby x Reader

Extra - Helping Hand

I hear the side door in the kitchen slam shut. A cold breeze finds itself into the living room down the hall, where I am huddled on the couch reading a newspaper I found. A shiver runs down my spine. Both from the cold and the unknown person who entered the mansion. I stand up immediately. Adrenaline starts to flow, preparing me to run away and up the stairs and into the safety and comfort of my own room. I start to calm as I hear the tell-tale sign of Toby. One of his tics, where he mumbles to himself, calms me.

Toby was out all day. I thought he would be back sooner. Especially with this weather. It did not snow, but the temperature was rather cold. I stayed huddled in all the blankets I could find in order to sleep during the day. The others had the fireplace going during the evening. I stoked the embers and let the remaining heat soak into me. It had me concerned that he was out there all day. Especially since he can not feel the cold. It must be more dangerous for him.

I start to wander over to the kitchen. Since we sometimes visit whenever I leave during the night, I should say 'hello'. As I get closer, I hear a thud of something hitting the ground. Toby groans and a wooden chair creaks. Entering the room I see a bit of a mess. His backpack is slumped on the ground, contents spilling out of it. His hatchet lies against the chair leg where Toby sits hunched over.

"(Y/n)?" Toby asks. While it would be silly to ask if he is in pain, it does appear he is in rough shape. I walk up to him to try and get a better look. Even though he does not feel pain, he is not immune to the physiological effects of the cold or injury. He told me once that he knows when he overworked himself when moving becomes more difficult.

"Are you okay?" I ask, concerned for his well-being. Toby grunts as he tries to stand up. His leg wobbles underneath him as weight gets placed on it. He falls back into the chair with another creak and a sigh.

"Yeah, I think I just overdid it. Leg is a little hard to move. But I should be good to go after a bit of rest."

Despite the darkness making it hard to see, I notice a dark spot on his pant leg near the bottom. I kneel down to get a closer look. Right above his boot, there is a tear in his sweatpants that has started to soak up some blood.

"You're hurt," I tell him. I stop myself from reaching out to touch it and get a closer look.

"That would be why walking was so difficult." Toby tries to laugh it off. I smile a bit at his weak attempt at humour.

Standing up, I offer my hand. Toby looks at it with one eyebrow raised. I push my hand out further for him to take. Slowly, he raises his hand and places it in mine. His glove is still on and bits of snow stuck on it make me shiver again.

Toby and I walk together as I lead him to the bathroom near his bedroom. I remember him mentioning he keeps a first-aid kit there. There should be something that I could use to patch him up. And once I sit him down on the edge of the bathtub, I rummage through the cupboard underneath the sink. The red bag contains mostly bandages, at the very bottom I find a singular crumpled package of an antiseptic wipe. Outside of the bag and in a back corner is a roll of gauze. I grab both the gauze and the wipe to use.

Kneeling on the floor, I gently pull Toby's pant leg up and over the wound. It looks like he scratched it on something. It is about ten centimeters long and fairly narrow. By the look of the crusted blood, it had been bleeding for a while before it stopped. I grab the wipe and tear open the package, letting the mangled paper fall to the floor. Gently, I wipe away at the wound.

"You won't hurt me, you know," Toby says, watching me as I try not to irritate the wound.

"I know," I respond, trying to focus on my task. But the feeling of Toby watching over me tries to take my eyes away and look up at him. Even though I know he will not feel any pain, I still want to be gentle. And as much as I tell myself it is only so I do not irritate the wound, I know it is more than that. Because all I want is to help Toby, and some part of me really wants him to see that I do care.

After cleaning the wound, I grab the gauze and gently start to wrap it around Toby's leg. Once I went around a few times with moderate tension I tear it off and tuck it in so it stays put. I back away and stand up, looking at Toby. He inspects and admires his leg before rolling his pant leg back over it. I hold out my hand for balance as he stands up. Despite being able to stand on it without teetering or toppling over, Toby takes my hand and just holds it. He looks me straight into my eyes, smiling.

"Thank you," He says, not breaking eye contact. I feel myself start to blush. My body tenses, ready to run, yet I stay in place and find myself admiring the wrinkles in his eyes as they, too, smile at me. "I, uh, I'm sorry to have bothered you."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I'm just glad you made it back safe."

I start to see a little bit of red flush Toby's cheeks. He averts his gaze but still holds onto my hand.  It is pretty cold, making me question how long he has been out in these freezing temperatures in torn pants.

"You should warm up. I was just sitting by the fire. Everyone else started it earlier so it's not much, but it is something," I offer. It would give him some warmth, but not overwhelm his body and shock him. Just enough to gradually warm him up. Toby looks back at me, smiling once again with his cheeks still blushing.

"Good idea. Just promise you'll stay under the blanket with me."