Slenderman Love Story: Damned Romance

~Chapter Six: Gashes~

• Slenderman's POV •

Laughing Jack's terse comment infuriates me, and it seem to effect Alice as well. She left the room, but I know she'll return shortly. She's most likely dipped into the bathroom to wash her face and calm down, if I know her. I lean back against the foot of the couch with a defeated sigh.

“What did he mean, Slender?” Trenderman muses to me from three feet away.

“Well, it's obvious, isn't it?” Jeff growls behind me.

I twist to face him, my tentacles rising through the air. I cock my head and fold my arms. “Quite possibly to you, Mr. Woods, but not so much for Trenderman or myself.” I say quietly, my voice trying to conceal the rage I so deeply feel.

I feel Jeff lean away slightly. “What I mean, boss, is Laughing Jack must've known where she was and been watching over Alice.” He chuckles darkly, sitting up and leaning with his arms resting on his thighs. “And keeping it from us all.” The smile drops from his voice like a cold stone into a puddle, warming in the sun.

My temper boils, but a different type of thought crossed my mind. “If that were so, why would Alice not confess this?" I hiss.
Jeff throws his head back and laughs. “Oh Slenderman, since when does Laughing Jack stay in this form to stalk the children?"
I tense again, my mind coming to a complete turmoil and falling to chaos. Suddenly, Alice returns and the sight of her lifts my spirits, I relax against the couch. She sits down in front of me and exposes the largest gash to me. I know immediately what she wants, so I pick up the needle and lay its point against the lip of the wound. Taking a deep breath, I look into her eyes and read the fear there. “Ready?”
She nods, and my hand trembles slightly. I cup the other side of her face with my free hand and feel her jaw relax. I thrust the needle through her skin, and she whimpers but doesn't object. She sits patiently, scruntching her shirt in her hands and breathing slowly. I suture as quickly but efficiently as possible, trying to close my ears to her harsh breathing pattern. She hisses as I move to the second gash that needed sewing.
“Let’s get them both at once.” I tell her, feeling an odd tightness in my stomach as a tear falls against my hand. I finish that gash, cut the strings and fling it all back into the kit. Alice falls against me, sweat shining on her flesh and heat rising in waves off her. I immediately wrapped my arms around her, feeling a tremor prodding at my arms and spine. I tense against the urge and as I do so am shocked to hear her weeping. 
"Are you going to be alright, Alice?" I murmur.
Shivering, she nods. She sniffs, then gets to her feet and heads to the bathroom again. I soon hear the sound of violent puking, and Eyeless Jack rises to his feet and quickly strides across the livingroom and disappears into the hall. I hear a door click open, a soft "Oh god, get out...please!" And a terse "I'm here for you." before the door shuts again.

~Alice's POV~
I shut the door behind me and fall to my knees, my hands automatically pulling my hair back as I begin to throw up. I sit there, trembling and crying with my eyes closed. Then the door opens behind me.
Oh no, Sam cannot see me like this! I think desperately. "Oh god," I groan as nausea lurks behind my tongue again. "Get out, please!"
"I'm here for you." Not Sam's voice. I risk a glance out of the corner of my eye as Eyeless Jack crouches beside me and begins rubbing my back, like when I got the flu when I was younger. We sit together for roughly twenty minutes, him making sympathetic noises in the back of his throat. When I'm sure I've finished, I grab some toilet paper and wipe my mouth and chin, then wobbily get to my feet. 
"Ugh...hydrogen peroxide." I groan.
Eyeless Jack chuckles. "Yeah, it sucks."
I glance at my reflection. Pale, sweaty and slightly trembling. My eyes really are red now, and look watery and slightly clouded. The blue wire stands out most, but at least there aren't two gaping maws in my face anymore. I wrap an arm around Eyeless Jack's neck, expecting him to help me back to the livingroom. He does more than that. He picks me up gently, and carries me past the livingroom upstairs into his bedroom. He tucks me into bed, reaches under the bed and pops back with a can of gingerale. He also grabs a bucket from a closet in the hall, switches on the TV and Xbox and sets me up on Netflix. 
"Good, sugarplum?" He asks, sitting in the curve of my stomach.
"Amazing. Thank you, Daddy." I murmur.
He smiles, lifts his mask slightly, leans over and kisses my cheek. "Okay hon. You should try to get some sleep."
"I will." My eyes feel heavy and I'm very tired. He strokes my hair, gets to his feet and quietly exits. I watch the first half hour of an episode of The Walking Dead, then drop off into a deep, dreamless sleep.