Ask Prompt (Anonymous) : Hoody gets a concussion and Masky has to take care of him.
Brian was unable to remember the last time he had spoken. He couldn't even recall the sound of his own voice. But behind the mask, there was no need to speak. The stitching and fabric brushed against his lips, erasing the urge to do so. His presence said more than he ever could. It was for this reason that he refused to scream in surprise when Alex appeared quite suddenly in his small shack in the outskirts of Rosswood. He didn't reply to Alex's taunts and jeers nor did he try to vocalize the pain shooting through his skull when Alex tackled him down onto the concrete floor. The mask hid the pain, and Alex hit harder for it. He need a reaction, something that Brian wasn't going to give. The attack stopped quite abruptly, Alex jerking away. Brian blinked up in surprise, watching Alex shout at someone or something through the red haze of the masks fabric. He was gone in a moment, chasing whomever he had shouted at through the open door of the shack.
Brian rolled over on his side, pulling the mask off of his rapidly swelling head. His lip was bleeding, and he wouldn't be terribly surprised if he had a black eye. The headache that was building in the back of his head made his eyes water. But Brian knew that it could have been worse. Rolling over again, Brian propped himself up on his elbows, attempting to stand. His vision wasn't quite up to speed with his movements, the shack floor swimming before him. The urge to vomit was strong, but Brian repressed it. Crawling slowly on hands and knees, he made his way to the dingy mattress in the corner of the building and laid down. The headache was in full force, spreading with agonizingly slow speeds throughout his head. Squeezing his eyes shut, Brian focused on the sounds outside the shack, birds and wind, clutching his mask tightly in his right hand, attempting to drown out the pain.
It was nearing dusk when footsteps approached the shack. Brian found it difficult to open his eyes, the light of the setting sun streaming in through the open shack window entirely too bright. The smart thing to do would be to move, Brian thought. To clear the area. But his body wasn't cooperating and the footsteps were approaching far too fast. Brian scrambled to put the mask back on, refusing to let Alex see his face in this state. That would be admitting defeat. As he slipped the mask on, matching up the eye holes with his eyes, a figure appeared in the open shack door, peering tentatively inside. Not Alex then, he would have charged in. Brian, although not quite sure that he was seeing properly, was able to distinguish that the other person, if indeed it was a person, was wearing a mask. Tim, then. Or rather, not Tim.
Masky moved delicately across the floor of the shack, almost silently had there not been so much grit on the concrete. Brian raised his head slightly off the mattress, incapable of much else movement wise. Masky stopped, tilting his head in a catlike way, observing Brian, who decided not to hide the fact that he was injured. It wouldn't have gained him anything if he had. Masky stepped closer, and Brian noticed the water bottle in the water bottle in his hand. It was full, unopened from what he could tell. Masky knelt down at the edge of the mattress, silently twisting the cap off of the bottle and offering it to Brian. He numbly watching his own gloved hand take the bottle, his movements slow and dull. He lifted up the edge of his own mask, bringing the bottle to his lips. Somehow, it felt rude to remove his mask entirely in the others presence. The water was tepid, like it had been left in a warm car for some time. But it was better than nothing. Brian sipped on the water for a few moments, acutely aware of how Masky was watching him do so. He offered the bottle to the other, who promptly took it and put the cap back on, setting it at the foot of the mattress. It was nice to have company that didn't speak back.
Masky, after several moments of silence, produced a small packet from his jacket pocket. Brian extended his hand, taking the packet without question. It was a single pill of Tylenol, in a package commonly given out to pharmacies and hospitals as samples. Brian wondered where Tim had gotten it. Masky watched silently, waiting for him to take the aspirin. With some difficulty, because he was still wearing his black gloves, Brian tore open the packaging and swallowed the pill dry. He had forgotten there was water available, but it wasn't exactly the first time he had dry swallowed a pill. Masky seemed satisfied, although it was hard to tell with the mask. He perched at the end of the mattress, watching Brian, occasionally looking around at the shadows of birds flitting across the window, on their way to roost for the night. The silence between them was not uncomfortable, and Brian's headache was a dull throb, much more manageable than before.
It was dark when Brian finally allowed himself to drift off to sleep. He hadn't done so more than a few moments when there was movement from the end of the mattress. Brian felt a hand on his shoulder, and he could vaguely see the outline of Masky in the dark. The others hands moved very slowly, making clear what he was about to do. Gently, he removed the mask from Brian's face. Brian wasn't sure why he allowed him to do it, why he trusted him enough in the first place. Perhaps it didn't matter. It was much easier to breath, Brian had to admit, without the mask. Masky sat down at Brians side now, watching him. It might have been unnerving to Brian, had he not been so tired. Closing his eyes, he attempted to fall back asleep again. Gently, a hand rested itself on top of Brian's head, smoothing his hair back. The sensation lasted for only a moment, just quick enough to make it possible that Brian had imagined it. He was too tired to open his eyes and confirm it.
It was midmorning by the time Brian awoke, momentarily confused by his lack of mask. But after a quick search, he found it, laid out neatly on the floor beside the mattress, next to two water bottles, one the same one that he had drank out of the day before, and another packet of Tylenol. Masky was nowhere to be seen, and Brian had the feeling that he wouldn't be returning. He had stayed with him through the night, monitoring his condition, and had left. Smiling to himself, Brian pulled himself into a sitting position and reached for the already open bottle of water. He decided to save the aspirin for a later time, when he didn't have a silent companion to help him through the night.