Honey-Comb [A Dead by Daylight Fic]

Chapter 19

Much to the Trapper's chagrin, Honey was back, and he announced his annoyance as such, "You're still here?"

"Yup. Turns out the Legion doesn't have enough room for a McKeever," said Honey, flopping down on the couch. It was much more comfortable than she remembered it being, though this time she hadn't fallen onto it from out of the abyss. "Looks like you're stuck with me."

The Trapper leaned out from one of the rooms, maybe a kitchen, Honey couldn't tell from the couch, but she could make out the glower on his face. He knew she was lying, and she knew that as well, however, neither mentioned it.

"Thanks though," Honey said.

"For what?" there was obvious defense in his voice as he returned to whatever work had previously occupied him.

A warmness touched the air and with it the scent of spices. Dinner maybe.

"Nothing," Honey folded her arms behind her head. As much as he tried to not give a shit, he obviously had gone out of his way to find someone she might be more comfortable spending the night with. He must have figured that spending it with a strange man wasn't particularly appetizing, despite the ease in which she'd earlier dozed off. Still, it was probably best not to mention the kindness he'd afforded her. Not many killers liked their softness put on blast.

"She seemed nice," Honey called to him, "Susie."

"Mm."

"She said they sometimes have little get togethers after the trials. How come you don't go?"

"Not interested."

"Not a bad thing to socialize every now and then," said Honey.

The Trapper dried his hands with a towel as he came out of the probably-kitchen, "Why would I want to do that?"

"Maybe I want to do that," Honey said through pursed lips.

"I'm not stopping you," he said.

"But I'll be all alone?" Honey said.

"Susie will be there." The Trapper ignored the obvious bait and changed the subject, "You let someone go - again," he said.

"You heard that?"

"You're not quiet."

"Hm. Well I did kill someone too. So in your face."

"In my face," repeated the Trapper, "Don't be surprised if you see The Shape lingering around the Estate again. He's never failed a trial before."

Honey sat up and immediately regretted it. "Oof," she grunted and wrapped her arms around her torso, positive she had a perfect indentation of the Chevrolet's grill across her chest. "Don't try and freak me out," she said, "I just survived buddy-copping him, let me have this," she flashed him a smile, "what're you cooking anyway?"

"Dinner," said the Trapper curtly, "What happened?" He gave a jerk of his chin, indicating the bruises Honey clutched. "Run into a pallet?"

"A car."

He chuckled.

"Har-har. Do you need help?"

"No," he said, "We still have warm water here, it'll help with the bruises and the blood on your face. Shower's upstairs. You can...borrow anything you need," he said completely aware he hadn't anything to spare that would suit Honey's small frame. She was resourceful he figured, she'd manage something.

"How long until dinner?" She asked.

"Long enough."

"Alright," she got up, "You have towels and stuff?"