We've Always Loved The Color RED

ya ya yeet

Ghost led his partner into their hotel room. He would've brought him back to the house, but it had pretty much been destroyed by the vortex Box Friend had created in his bedroom. Ghost just sighed as he lowered Toast onto the bed. He just couldn't stop thinking about what the older man had said. Did Toast actually love him? He highly doubted it. Toast probably just said the things he did because of blood loss. Ghost looked down at his own arm, which was wrapped tightly with gauze. It was pretty sore, but that was mostly because of the disinfectant that he had used on it, as well as all of the little splinters he had to pull out of it. 

"...Sir... Siiirrrrrr..." Toast whined, glancing up at him with his pale blue eyes. 

"Yes, Johnny?" he questioned.

"Are-... are you gonna fix me up?"

"...yeah. I will." Ghost mumbled, looking away. He could feel his cheeks begin to burn once more. For some reason, he just couldn't look his partner in the eyes. Well, Toast was shirtless... not like it mattered or anything. Ghost reached into his bag, pulling out a few medical supplies. He had unfortunately left the rest in their house, which meant they were gone forever. Ghost looked over Toast's body, happy with what he saw. Jimmy must've gone easy on him. He pulled out some string and a needle. Ghost knew this probably wasn't the best idea, but he didn't really have much of a choice. The people at the hospital would probably have him arrested for looking so much like Jimmy. That was usually how it worked, at least. He just didn't want to be separated from his friend. Ghost took a deep breath before he quickly yet carefully began to stitch. He did his best to ignore Toast's pained screams.

"G-Ghost! I don't think this is right!" Toast cried, his grip on the bed sheets tightening.

"J-just hold on Johnny! I'm almost done!" Ghost exclaimed. Just moments later he finished, using one of the hotels washrags to clean off the extra blood. He looked up, letting out a sigh. Toast had tears streaming down his cheeks. Ghost felt horribly guilty. He sat down next to his partner, cleaning the cut on his cheek. Toast had already taken care of the other cuts before the blood loss got to him. Ghost pressed a large band-aid to it, watching as the blood started to seep through the gauze. He sighed, knowing he would probably need to change it in an hour or two. 

"T-thank you." Toast whispered, lying back on the bed. Ghost just nodded. He couldn't help but smile at how relaxed the older man looked. He was just glad that Toast wasn't bleeding out anymore. That's when he felt something grab his sleeve.

"What's up?" he asked, glancing over.

"...could you tuck me in, Sir? I'm cold."

"Uhh... sure."

"Thanks~" Toast purred, smiling. He helped his friend under the covers, pulling them all the way up to his shoulders. Ghost sat on the edge of the bed, going through his bag since he had nothing better to do. All he had in it was his wallet, a few band-aids, a couple pieces of equipment, and a granola bar. That's when he noticed a piece of paper sticking out of his wallet. It was the picture from earlier. He noticed that it seemed to have restored itself. Ghost smiled. It was a photo of him, Jimmy, and their mom. They looked so happy.

"That's a dumb picture, Greg." Jimmy sighed, appearing next to him. Ghost looked back to see that Toast was now asleep before turning towards the killer.

"I think it's nice! You looked adorable when you were a little kid." he chuckled, being sure to keep his voice down. An intense blush formed on his twins freckled cheeks. 

"Adorable?!!"

"Aww Jimmy are you blushing? That's so sweet!" Ghost giggled. Jimmy quickly looked away, embarrassed.

"Weirdo." he muttered.

"I may be a weirdo, and you may be a killer, but we're still brothers." Ghost told him, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. Jimmy looked towards him, his eyes softening.

"I mean... you're not wrong." Jimmy whispered, giving him a little smile. Ghost reached forward, giving him a hug. He could feel his twin jittering in his arms. 

"Are you scared or something?" Ghost questioned, gently resting his chin on Jimmy's oddly sharp shoulder. 

"I-I just don't want to hurt you." 

"You're not gonna hurt me. I promise." 

"O-ok." Jimmy stuttered. The killer shakily wrapped his arms around him, relaxing almost instantly. 

"See, you're not hurting me at all!" he told him. Jimmy let out a small giggle. It was kind of creepy, but Ghost didn't really mind. He had heard and seen worse. After a moment, the two pulled away. He smiled. Everything was going good. That was until Ghost noticed that Jimmy was staring at a certain object on the nearby table. His knife. 

"Gregory... I-I..."

"I know. How bad do you want it?" Ghost asked.

"Very." Jimmy muttered. He let out a little sigh, knowing that his brother couldn't stop killing. At least, not right away. It seemed to be an addiction of sorts. Ghost turned to him, suddenly getting very serious. 

"...go. I know that if you don't go you'll go crazy and take control of me again. Just... go. Please." Ghost ordered, being sure to keep his voice relatively gentle. Jimmy's hand immediately shot over to the knife, holding it tight. He watched as the killer quickly climbed out the window, giving him one more tear filled glance and a twitch before leaving. Ghost just shook his head, gently cuddling against his partner who was still somehow asleep. He knew it would take a while, but he was hopeful that he could help Jimmy stop killing. Maybe forever. But for now, all he could do was sleep.