How do killers love? (Jason x Michael Myers)

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                        THUMP!
Jason woke up to the sound of something or someone falling, looking around he couldn't find anything so he looked over to Michael's side of the room. Walking over past the divider, he found Michael on the floor tightly curled into a ball, fidgeting and breathing hard, he couldn't see his face.  Nor did he care, 'Is he having a seizure?' Jason picked the smaller man up causing the movement to stop, thinking he was okay, he then put him back into the bed.  He remembered the note Anna left him and decided now was the time to look at it.

Skimming through the note for important things, this was all he found important.
'He was put in a sanitarium when he was six, and hasn't spoken since.'

'He is prone to nightmares, this does mean he falls out of bed sometimes'

'His family was not a very good one, abusive over the fact he was a male'

'He killer his sister Judith at age 6, leading to being in a sanitarium'

'He doesn't like to be touched'

'All of his family is dead, except for his younger sister Laurie, he hasn't been able to kill her, and still struggles with that.'

'He has a bit of insomnia, but he's fine otherwise'

'He hasn't shown his face or anything of the sort, ever.'

'He doesn't get along with others easily, but sometimes he does.'

'He has a bit of an emotional problem, don't treat him too hard.'

'He kills when he wants there is no set time.'

The note continued on until the last one,
'Gets incredibly upset at the mention of his sisters Judith or Laurie, a man named Dr.Loomis, and especially when mentioning his niece, Jamie.'

Jason rolled his eyes as he read the last one, 'dramatic much?' He took the note and put it back into his bedside cupboard, tucking himself back in, he goes back to sleep.

Michael however, was scared in his dreams as he saw flashes of pictures and memories of his horrid parents, Judith, the Sanitarium, Laurie, Dr.Loomis, the gunshots, and Jamie. He had started to hyperventilate when he had been embraced by someone, the warmth he felt at a random, it confused him. He could see himself being held, he doesn't know why, but it calmed him a bit, after taking a moment to see who he was with he finally realized, it was Jason. He would've spoke had he understood what was happening, but then it all faded away, and he was awake. He shot up oddly scared, he couldn't scream, he wouldn't allow himself to do such a weak thing.

He sat at the edge of his bed before calming, 'I'll just finish the door, no one is awake...' standing up he looked under his bed, he gathered his paints, brushes, and sketch book, before heading to the bedroom door. Opening the door he exited the room, carefully placing everything on the floor, he closed the door quietly. He couldn't see with how dark it was, so he turned on his phone flashlight and started to do his thing. It didn't take long for Michael to create the perfect colors for the painting he was making, so he started.

Two or so hours later it was still dark outside but the painting was done, it was a painting of a blood stained machete, and Jasons old blood stained hockey mask. He took a moment to admire his work, 'good job Mikey, good job,' he smiled before realizing he had no mask on. He started to panic until he remembered no one was awake, no one was going to see his face, so he slowly and carefully gathered everything back up, and entered his room again. After putting things away, he looked over on Jasons side, he slept so peacefully, 'I wish I could sleep like that...,' Michael sighed as he laid back in bed. Looking up at the ceiling, He decided to change into something more comfortable, once done he curled under his blankets, and drifted off into nothingness, no dreams, no nightmares; nothing.