If there was one word Stu Macher would use to describe himself when it came to you, it was protective. Protective because jealous didn't sound right, even though he was. But then again, what was right when you were accomplice to a hefty amount of killings? He just tried making his thoughts and actions justifiable by putting it in a folder—change the label yet the contents remained the same.
"Is he still in there?"
Leaned up next to the door tagged #439 in Roseville's local hospital were him and Billy, who didn't move a muscle in his body. Just remained standing next to him, eyes screwed closed and inhaling deeply.
"You got two eyes don'tcha? Look for yourself."
And so Stu did. Stu peeked through the one-foot-by-one-foot glass window built into the door, and then he wished he hadn't. If the building caught on fire and he suffocated to death, he would be convinced it was less painful than seeing what he was looking at right now.
There you were, neatly tucked into a hospital bed with your legs covered underneath the white sheets, and several monitors beeping all around you.
You were giggling.
While Stu adored hearing the little noises you made when you giggled, it should have been with him. He should have been the reason you laughed, and not some random who was sitting in a chair next to your bed. Whoever it was wore a broad smile of his own, telling you something that made you laugh.
Stu looked between you and the freelancer at a rate that was almost comical. While the jealousy coursing through his veins felt similar to the times of Ryan Stewart and Derek Feldman, who had both been your boyfriends during high school and college respectively, this felt different.
This time, Stu felt as if they could lose you to... Well, to whoever this person was. He didn't trust him. Not one bit. And now that you were an adult.. It made things a lot more difficult for sure.
It didn't help that the guy was far from ugly looking. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but Stu would have felt a lot more confident in his skin had the person with you looked like a Gremlin like Derek Feldman had. But no, instead they were dealing with a perfectionist who liked to use plenty of product in his hair that was slightly tousled in an alluring way, and looked as American as popcorn withh his sharp off-white sweater over a light gray button-up.
"It's been an hour now. Can't he just fuckin' hurry up?" Stu finally jerked his head away and bounced his knee up and down with the heel of his foot. Each passing second that he wasn't in the room with you grew more and more tense.
What was he saying that made you laugh? Did you find him attractive? They had tried talking to you before but were basically dismissed for this... This nerd that was most likely trying something with you! But who wouldn't? You were pretty, smart, witty and, and, and...
Another peek into the window, and Jed Olsen apperently felt Stu's hyperfixated stare on him, because the man glanced right back. There was a look in his darker than dark eyes that almost invited Stu to enter—a mocking and silent I dare you. Then they looked back at you and heated back up again, like the moment never happened. It was gone as soon as it came.
It was right then and there that Stu realized something was up because, for one, a normal person couldn't just flip the switch like that-couldn't regulate their emotions like that. He had seen Billy do it many, many times before.
His friend, on the other hand, had missed the wordless exchange entirely, and simply dragged the hand that wasn't stuffed into the pocket of his jeans over his face and freshly trimmed beard.
A flare of anger caught Stu by surprise, hotter and brighter than anything he had ever felt before. Even moreso than the time when Billy told him that his then girlfriend, Casey Becker, supposedly was seeing Steven Orth behind his back.
Unlike Billy, Stu could keep his anger down by telling himself why he was angry in the first place. It was because he didn't want to lose you again. You. Just thinking of you made him able to collect his bearings.
He would Billy about it at a different place and time, and instead
waited patiently for the doctors and nurses to pass until it was just them two, then leaned into Billy's ear conspiratorially. "Don't kill in a hospital, Bills. Too many witnesses."
The other male's eyelids shot open at that and, just like Stu knew he would, snapped at him with a growl crossed with a sigh. "Thanks man! Really needed to stop myself there."
The clacking of shoes on the pristine floor halted their conversation and to both their annoyance, it was the Sheriff who held up his identification with a silver police badge clearly visible.
"Sheriff Rorke," he introduced himself as, eyes squinted at both of them as if already accusing them of a crime. "Billy Loomis, if I could have a word?"
Silently communicating was one thing Billy and Stu had gotten very good at. In just one glance, Billy conveyed his endless array of frustrations, but also told him not to do anything reckless while he was going to deal with this.
Right after Billy's departure, the door to your room opened and Stu's heart leaped in his chest when he saw you. He pushed passed the reporter and made sure to bump into his shoulder, completely ignoring the futile warnings to let you sleep.
"There she is!" Stu beamed and closed the door to make his way over to your side. A crease appeared on his forehead in the process. "Cripes. Ya look exactly like how you did after the first time we watched The Human Centipede."
"Not appreciated," you replied dully as you shifted your attention to him.
All you could see was his yup-it's-just- us-two-in-this-room kinda grin. Obviously, he didn't understand that you really didn't want to talk. Getting another headache wasn't in your best interest when the thundering in it was still very much present. Truly, your head felt like it was stuffed with rocks, weighing heavily against the pillows and pricking with a pulse of its own around the back.
This made you subconsciously change your position and adjust the stratchy blankets draped over you. The springs of the medical bed you reclined in pressed against all the wrong spots in your back. Damn it. Certainly it wouldn't be too much of an issue to invest in beds that weren't as hard as bricks?
"Can we talk?"
Now that was a surprise. Stu Macher asking for permission in a matter that didn't involve sex only happened once every blue moon. Hell, Stu didn't even ask permission to snoop into your underwear drawers. He just did it. Without you even knowing, most of the time.
"Since when do you ask?" You shook your head, straight away regretting the decision of doing so as you grinded your teeth in pain. "We spoke before... Remember? Not even two hours ago?"
"But I gotta talk to ya again," he insisted, moving to place himself in the same chair Jed had sat in minutes before. The latter had been telling you stories about how his boss was making his days at work an utter pain in the ass, and you had been humoured by it, just with how disdained he sounded.
For most of the chat with him, though, you didn't fail to notice that Jed had been—albeit discreetly—staring at you. At first, you'd surreptitiously checked your teeth and your skin for any blemishes or stuck food that might have attracted that kind of interest. Next came your hair, until you realized you'd been checking how you looked to Jed, your friend.
"Who was that?" Stu's voice was cautious, insecure, and impossible not to sense the growing worry behind it.
Regrettably, you noticed his eyes. The large, blue orbs were staring at you, into your soul, and they were shiny. Stu's shiny, large blue eyes were as beautiful as they ever were. They shimmered with sadness.
You were alone. You could say what you wanted. In the back of your head —a part that wasn't aching and throbbing—you knew there was a fucking massive elephant in the room that needed to be addressed, but it could wait. For now.
"You mean Jed?" You shrugged, fully intending on giving Stu a taste of his own medicine by playing it vague. "A friend."
"So you're on first name basis with him?" he murmured quietly and leaned his chair back on its hind legs. This was the guy you had talked about? The one who was going to help you? Stu couldn't help but start overthinking when he reminded himself you had kept it quiet from them.
All that flittered through your mind was that you didn't like the doubt and coldness creeping into the way Stu spoke just then, but you chose to ignore it anyways.
"Yep," you confirmed and looked down to pick some lint off your hospital gown. "He's a friend that's actually done something for me."
"Ain't that nice of Jef," Stu responded sarcastically, and you frowned at his rudeness and disrespect, knowing fully well he'd intentionally used a different name to mock Jed.
There was no reason for him to behave that way, either. If anything, you'd expected Stu to he the more accepting one of the two despite how he acted that night, now several weeks ago. Plus, Jed had done nothing wrong to either one of them.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that he was jealous. You didn't like this side of him. You didn't like it at all. It was toxic. And maybe, ironically enough, it took you a good blow to the head for you to see it properly.
Had you known Stu for much longer than you did Jed Olsen? Of course you did, but that didn't mean he had the right to behave this horrible.
"Lay off, Stu. His name is Jed," you sternly corrected him. "You sound like Billy and it doesn't suit you."
"So fucking what?" He grumbled, letting the front legs of the chair crash back onto the floor. "He didn't stop you from being carted into this shitty place. What kinda friend is he?" There was something in his voice that confused you. Stu wasn't someone who often spoke with such malice, and he sounded completely different from how he did barely two minutes ago.
"What kind of boyfriend were you for leaving me the way you did?!" You defended with a voice so strained it was almost at the highest decibel level you could produce. There was a turning in your stomach that was all together unpleasant as your heart began to ache just as badly as your head did. "You left me when I needed you. Billy hurt me and you just what? Followed him out without a word? What about my feelings? Do you even care?"
You let your rage get the best of you and didn't even think twice about the venomous words you were spitting. "You and Billy behave like me having someone around me is like–" you paused, feeling completely fired up. "Like I'm cheating or something!"
Stu remained silent and continued to stare at you, his complexion turning as pale as the bed sheets you were wrapped in. He was upset. He was hurt.
But so were you. Literally and figuratively. And now that you were so fed up, you couldn't stop yourself from finally speaking your piece of mind.
"It's funny too because you're the one who can't take his eyes off any woman with big tits we pass when we're out! And I say when because you and Billy barely let me outside anyways!" You fumed, still far from finished. "It doesn't even cross your mind that I'm an actual person and not a pet you can keep. And don't even get me started on all the fucking LYING that you've done!"
There. You said it. No taking that back.
Stu still didn't do anything. He didn't speak, didn't make any attempt at an unquestionably insulting come back or trying to argue against you, and for a second you thought he didn't breathe, doing nothing but staring at you.
Your outburst caught up with you, your head protesting fiercely enough that you wondered if you were gonna be sick. He made you feel guilty just by staring when you shouldn't feel guilty at all. Everything you'd thrown out in the open was nothing but the bitter truth. Stu probably felt bad that you caught him in the act instead of feeling bad for actually doing it.
You wanted to curl in on yourself, to pull your knees to your chest and hide your face in them so that Stu wouldn't see the angry tears brimming in your eyes. It wasn't that he hadn't seen you cry before, but things were different now. You weren't friends anymore. You weren't anything, and fuck if that didn't make everything ten times worse.
With nothing else being said for the time being, you tried distracting yourself by letting your gaze survey the room that had about as much personality as the rest of the hospital as you blinked the wetness away. Why were hospitals so... So... Ugh! Boring looking? And then you thought back at who or what sent you here in the first place.
The only thing you could really recall was how fast everything had happened, and how quiet it was. How quiet he was. You never saw it coming. The person responsible for sending you a one-way ticket to the hospital had been one with the shadows. You didn't stand a chance.
It was all a blur after that. Nothing you could quite say off the tip of your tongue at least. With your body covered in scratches and bruises from head to toe, your arm wrapped in medical bandages and your eyes a puffy red on your face that lacked any colour whatsoever, someone could easily mistake you for a mix between a mummy and a vampire.
You felt your eyelids drooping and your head becoming heavier. You didn't want to go to sleep, not with Stu still being there and you needing an explanation, because that was the least you deserved. But it seemed you had no choice when a woman wearing blue scrubs stepped into the room holding a clipboard in her hands.
"I thought I told you to wait outside," she addressed Stu sternly, who snapped his consciousness towards her.
"She's my girlfriend! I ain't leaving her side."
Pardon? Did Stu happen to forget a relationship was a two-way street?
"Don't call me that," you muttered.
Stu's mouth opened and closed for a moment, the blue in his eyes deepening. "Call you what?"
"Your girlfriend."
"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to return to the front desk." The nurse's voice remained strict and didn't help with the growing tension. If her glare was anything to go off of, you had this sneaking suspicion Stu waltzing in your room without permission wasn't the only thing she was irritated about. "You want Miss. (L/N) to get better I assume?"
"Look, Doctor, uh...A? Ali?"
"For the last time–it's A-lex," she interrupted quickly, annoyance still evident.
"Right, Alexia," Stu unmeaningfully amended. "Look. (Y/N)'ll get better with me," he promised, like everything you just told him had gone into one ear and straight out of the other. "Me 'n her belung together. We're like–we're like milk and cereals."
The nurse, whose name you now knew to be Alex, ignored the joking entirely and picked up on your tired state by the way she said, "That's all fine and well but I must ask you to leave. Miss. (L/N) is clearly too exhausted to be taking any more visitors."
You didn't see Stu's pout because your eyes had drooped closed again, but you did hear him grumble "I guess that joke didn't de-liver well" under his breath as he begrudgingly stomped out of the room.
The nurse stepped towards your side. "I'm glad that you're still awake. How are you feeling?"
You were doing just fabulous. You felt as if you had just broken up and your head was throbbing like it had a heart beat of its own, but aside from that, you were doing wonderful! That was what you wanted to say, or something along those lines, but only a groan passed your lips. "Good."
To be frank, you didn't feel like merrily conversing with any of the nurses and doctors.
"Good to hear." She gave you an encouraging smile. "Hit the road quite hard, but you'll be just fine. Let's see here..." She flipped through the papers on her clipboard. "We stitched your arm and head. Vitals are working. Some deficiencies in Iron, but given supplements, it's nothing to fret about."
Well thank God your Vitamins were alright. That had you really worried.
"Hit the road?" You frowned. Did she forget the part where you ran away for dear life from some crazy lunatic with a knife?
The woman didn't seem to care much about that as she wrote something down on her clipboard and shrugged. "That's where they found you. The man that just visited you without permission, may I add."
Oh. So Stu and Billy were the ones that scared the killer off and essentially saved your life? You swallowed back the lump forming in your throat. The sound of that single gunshot still echoed in your ears, and you were sure it was going to take time for its deafening blast to fade.
So why hadn't Billy been with him now? Did he not want to see you? You were in luck because apperently, the nurse was a mind reader as she directly answered your question.
"The person that was with him was taken to the side by the police," she explained, watching the panic on your face increase.
No, he didn't get caught doing anything illegal, right? It couldn't be...
"By the police?" You demanded, heart racing. "Has something happened to–"
"Nothing to worry about, dear. The cops only wanted to ask a few things. I'm sure they'll be done with him in no time." The nurse paused, nodded, and then left you with a small wave.
As soon as she left you with nothing to do on your hands, your thoughts turned bitter and depressing as you attempted to think of something else, which was pretty impossible considering everything you had experienced thus far, and you didn't necessarily think matters were going to get lighter from here on out.
They'd only take Billy in for questioning if they suspected him of something.