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You returned to the dining room with a bundle of blankets under one arm and a pillow under the other, for Cole. To be honest, you had no idea why you were doing this. It's not like the guy was going to take you with him tomorrow, so why are you letting him stay tonight?

You didn't know, and it was too late to say anything.

"Here," You said, handing over the blankets and pillow to Cole.

"I'm not sleeping in your bed tonight?" He joked.

You shook your head firmly.

"What are you doing with that thing?" Cole said loudly, making you jump back a little.

"I was going to get him out of your way," You said walking over to Brahms, picking him up and holding onto him tightly.

"Look, Y/N, I'm sorry for what happened. I just need to know that you forgive me."

Cole's hand was tightly clasped onto your wrist and they looked up at you with an earnest expression. How could he ask for forgiveness now, after everything that had happened?

"No," You snarled.

"Y/N.." Cole sighed. His patience grew thin and he got angry quickly, shoving you against the pool table, his nails digging into your wrist. "I want you to realize something. You're not leaving me and I'm not letting you go, Y/N. Understand?"

Cole grabbed your chin and pulled it towards him. You nodded that you understood, but that wasn't enough. Cole went for your lips, but you drew back quickly enough so they missed.

"Make sure you're packed and ready by morning."

He sent you off, and, with all your might, you somehow managed to resist the urge to ran to Malcolm, or to some remote corner of the house. You only knew that would make this worse for you.

---

You lead down next to the doll on the single bed in Brahms' room and closed your eyes. Softly, you began to cry.

"Don't worry, Brahms. I'm not going to leave you, but I need your help."

---

Everyone was asleep - Malcolm, Cole, you. It was the perfect time to provide the help you asked Brahms for.

Later that night, blood dripped from the wall onto Cole's forehead, making him rub the affected area of skin out of agitation. This only spread the blood around his face, and, soon enough, he woke up from it.

---

"Y/N!"

You heard Cole shout your name from downstairs, and he sounded pissed. Out of sheer panic, you clambered off Brahms' bed and sprinted downstairs.

As soon as you appeared in the doorway, Cole raced over to you, grabbed your arm and showed you what had been done.

"What is this?" Cole shouted at you, pointing to a blood mural on the wall.

It read 'GET OUT', in large, bold, crimson red letters.

"I.. I didn't do that," You stuttered, utterly confused as to what was happening.

"Don't play these games with me! How can that not be you?" Cole yelled at you, still pointing at the 'help' Brahms had given you.

"Brahms," You gasped. Instantly, you rushed over to the doll who was sat in the chair and picked him up, holding onto him tightly.

"The doll wrote this?" Cole roared, obviously not believing you.

You took more than a few steps away from Cole, still holding onto Brahms as if he was a real child.

"Okay. It wasn't you, it was the doll. Give it to me." Cole commanded you.

Shaking your head, you tried to run from him, screaming as you went.

---

Malcolm sat in the front seat of his car, and awoke, startled by the commotion you had made. As if he was Superman himself, Malcolm ran out of his car and barrelled through the front door of the Heelshire home, praying he wasn't too late to save you.

"Give me the doll!" Cole pushed you onto the floor and grabbed the doll, making you cry and hurt.

"Hey! Get your things and get out!" Malcolm bellowed at Cole.

You had never seen Malcolm so mad; the veins stuck out on his neck, his skin flared red and he looked ready to kill Cole if he had to.

"Everyone seems to be in a big hurry for me to leave. Maybe you left that message for me," Cole hollered at Malcolm, swinging Brahms around by his feet, Brahms' head barely missing the edge of the pool table. "Or are you gonna say it was the doll too?"

"What did Brahms do?" Malcolm asked you calmly.

"Cole," You said, looking away from him. "You don't understand!"

"No, I understand exactly what's going on here," He argued.

"Give me the doll," Malcolm yelled.

"What's so special about this doll?" Cole asked you.

"Cole! Please," You whined, panicking.

"Fine."

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