Five Ticks 'Til I'm Yours (Dark Ticci Toby x Reader)

15

"Follow the blood," Toby mumbled, and you heard his footsteps as he walked right past you, instead heading into the kitchen. The kitchen light flicked on and you saw Toby, covered from head to toe in blood, a certain tiredness in his face as he gave you the briefest glance before moving deeper into the kitchen. You heard the fridge open, but you didn't hear Tim as he walked over to the couch, his mask hovering over it as he peered down at you. There was no shock or fear in your eyes as you stared at him. You were in too much pain to fear him, and he saw that as he turned away from you.

He joined Toby in the kitchen and you heard the fridge close, something was set on the dining table, a chair was pulled, and someone slumped into it. Things were quiet for a mere moment before a cabinet closed, more footsteps until Toby walked around the couch and sat down on the coffee table across from the you.

"Can you sit up?" he asked, setting a beer bottle beside him as he opened a bottle of Advil in his hand. He finally popped the lid, slipping two painkillers into his hand before turning to you. He slipped in three more before closing the bottle. The blood on his hands were smeared on the pills now.

You didn't answer him, maybe you were too weak, or maybe you despised him too much at the moment. He frowned at that but instead of leaving, he gently slipped a hand under your back, slowly pulling you up. Your bruised body ached at the movement, a sharp exhale escaping your lips as you roughly grabbed his hand for support. He held you there before moving his other hand towards your mouth, you decided to open up, allowing him to drop the pills in. He used the same hand to grab the bottle, bringing it to your lips and tipping it to an angle. The beer felt cold and smooth as it eased down your throat. A little alcohol would help with the pain, the first few sips were already beginning to give you a buzz.

He eased you down onto the couch before getting up and heading back to the kitchen. The blood from his jeans had seeped into the table. You briefly wondered what he had been up to but knowing him it couldn't have been anything good. Deciding not to think about it, you closed your eyes again, hoping the pills and alcohol would kick in soon.

"Does she kn-kno-know a-anything?" you heard Toby ask, he was now back in the kitchen and you heard a chair pull up before someone sat down.

"Dunno," Tim responded, you heard him stretching, "Can't make much out between her screaming and crying."

"M-ma-maybe if you stop torturing her for a minute..."

"Where's the fun in that?" Tim's tone could be best described as an amused sneer, aggressive yet entertained, "We pulled out her fingernails, she wouldn't shut up about it though so we smashed her fingers in. That shut her up. For an hour. Then she woke up again. I usually don't give a fuck if they scream all day and night, but this bitch, fuck, her screams are so shrill, I'll go deaf."

"Right..." Toby sounded surprisingly uncomfortable, almost disgusted. "And Claire?"

"Jeff got her," Tim paused, as if taking a shot at his drink before continuing, "They had history as ya know, so he did what he does best with women that piss him off. Put her out of her misery yesterday, died from the internal bleeding."

Toby didn't say anything, the next minute passed in silence, your light breathing the only thing you could hear.

"And what about your bitch?" Tim's voice broke the silence.

"S-sh-she can hear us you know," was Toby's mellow response.

"So, you scared?" Tim asked, almost jokingly. Almost. "C'mon man, tell me?"

"I spent an eternity following orders," Toby finally answered, his voice quiet. "I'm bored, I'm tired. This is fun, this is new."

"Whatever does it for ya," Tim mumbled, taking another swig of his drink, "jus' don't let it get you all soft again."