Hold Me Down (Michael Myers x Reader)(ON HOLD)

•Chapter 24•

TW: Vomit
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Y/n jolted awake in a cold sweat. The worst kind of sweat when it was the most unforgiving season of freezing temperatures. She had a mindsplitting headache, which worsened her mood even more. Remembering anything from last night proved to be difficult as she sat up and looked around the dark room.

The air around her smelled different from her usual home, then she recalled how she was in a cabin up north. It dawned on her that she was hungover from the night before. As soon as the realization kicked in she felt herself gag, and she slapped a hand over her mouth before kicking off the covers and booking it to the bathroom. Vomit rushing up her throat.

She barely made it in time. She keeled over the toilet and puked out breakfast, lunch, and dinner from the previous day. Her stomach lurched as it forced everything out. Holding onto the toilet seat for dear life. Why the hell was alchohol made anyways? Why were there so many variations? And why was the human body so flawed?

Her chest heaved as her mouth spilled saliva uncontrollably. She had to keep herself from passing out because of fatigue. "Fuck...Y/n get it together" waves of heat washed over her as she sat by the toilet, helpless. There was no doubt that Amanda was going to suffer the same fate as her when she woke up. She would probably have to run to the store to get some ginger ale, saltine crackers, and asprin. Maybe some padlocks to put on the alchohol cooler.

Y/n pulled her knees into her chest and sat in the corner of the bathroom. Thinking about what in her life lead to this moment. Then she thought about Michael. 'Does he still have seizures?'  She drummed her fingers on the ground to distract her from the nausea. Michael didn't like it when she drank, but she didn't know why, not yet atleast. Now Michael was the only thing she could think about.

If he was here, he probably would've carried her back to her bed and watched over her. Maybe get her a warm wash cloth. It had only been about several times that Michael had picked her up. Most of those times he tossed her over his shoulder. But the other times weren't that bad. Resting her head against his large chest while his arms cradled her. Her eyes widened once she realized that she actually missed him. A serial killer. A serial killer, stalker, and mentally unstable man who wears a literal mask, and she misses his presence.

"This is not how my momma raised me" Y/n slammed the back of her head into the bathroom tiles.

°°°

Y/ns eyes fluttered open to the sound of the toilet flushing. She was back in her own bed instead of in the bathroom like last night. She must've had enough strength to walk back. The bedroom door creaked open, revealing a disheveled Amanda.

"Y/n" she mewed "My tummy hurtssss" she whined and crawled on the bed like a cat. Curling next to Y/n. Y/n noticed how much it hurt to open her mouth, so she mumbled into her teeth "We shouldn't have drank so much last night." Amanda groaned and shivered "Can you drive to the store and get some stuff?" "You read my mind" Y/n inhaled sharply and smelled just how much they reeked. "Let's shower first, I'm not going out in public smelling like a grandma's butt."

Both of them showered, but Amanda wanted to stay back since she still felt nauseous. Y/n was sober enough to drive, so she took the keys and went on her way. Remembering the store yesterday, she pulled in and noticed no cars in the parking lot this time. Not even the pickup truck was there. Yet the neon sign in the window flashed that it was open, and the lights were on inside.

She rubbed her hands together to generate some heat and stepped out of the car. A light breeze nipping at her face. Knocking herself more into a sober state. The door opened with a ding and the smell of stale air and old wood entered her lungs. The isles were fully stock, which was satisfying since the store in Haddonfield was the opposite. Granted, there were more people living there anyway.