Warning:

Post-You're Next

AUish (Craig and Tom are still alive)

Gore

Language

Spoilers

Major OOCNESS

No slash

Angst

I do NOT own You're Next

Flames will be used to roast sausages

X.X

Tom..."

The youngest of the three masked killers grunted in pain as he regained consciousness. His head throbbed in pain from the blows he received from the brick. He lifted his left hand up to touch his face; just to see if anything was broken. He then felt a gentle, but firm grip on his wrist when another hand clamped down on it. His body tensed with the fear that it could be the same woman who personally whooped his ass.

"Tom...don't move..." a male voice said gruffly.

Tom relaxed. He could recognize that gruff voice anywhere. Ignoring the pain, Tom cracked his eyelids open halfway. His vision was a messy blur of dark colors. It was still dark out by the looks of it. He blinked a few times. His vision finally settled. Tom's breath got caught in his throat by the site before him. "C-Craig..." he managed to stutter.

Despite the blood that slowly oozed out of his left eye socket, Craig managed to put up a small smile. "In the flesh." he said before grunting in pain.

"Craig..." Tom whispered, "You're...bleeding..."

Craig chuckled softly. His voice slightly scratchy from dehydration throughout the night. "I'll live." he rasped, "I've gone through a lot worse."

Tom noticed that he was looking down at his with the two missing fingers. The young man swallowed and looked away. Whimpering softly at the pain from his face. "My face... Is it broken?" he asked softly.

"No." Craig replied. "You might've fractured it, though. That Australian bitch did some damage."

Tom suddenly gasped sharply and attempted to move his head. "W-where is she?" he asked. His voice quivering in fear. Craig brushed his hand against the side of his face. Something that always seemed to calm the young man whenever he was in distress. Tom calmed down at the soothing touch. The first soothing thing he's felt in weeks.

"She's back in the house. I woke up and found her lying on the floor unconscious. Looks like she had some bullets in her."

"B-bullets?" Tom was confused.

Craig smirked. "There was a cop with an axe in his face nearby." he added.

"Oh..." Tom fell silent. "Where are we?"

"The truck." Craig replied, "I'm taking us home. It was a fucking mistake to come here in the first place."

"S-shouldn't we go to a hospital first?"

"Do you really think I'm stupid, Tom? That bitch must've given you brain damage or something."

Tom frowned, "Hey." Craig laughed dryly.

"I'm just shitting with you. Of course I'm taking us to a hospital. Far from here."

"Will you...be able to handle it? With your missing eye and all..." Tom mumbled.

"Yeah..." Craig replied, "I'll be alright. I've lost two fingers after all. I'm sure I'll live."

Tom smiled weakly. His body ached like hell. He just wanted to close his eyes and pretend that it was all a nightmare. Just a silly old bad dream people tend to have once in a while. A moment of silence fell between the two men for a full minute before Craig shifted to sit up in the driver's seat and take out the key from his pocket. The ex-sniper said nothing as he placed the blood stained key into the ignition slot and turned. The truck engine came to life and the headlights switched on.

Tom, who's head was resting on Craig's lap the entire time, looked up at the older man with tearful eyes. "Craig?" he asked.

"Tom?" Craig replied. Looking down at his remaining companion.

"I miss him already..." Tom sobbed quietly.

A tear slowly trailed down Craig's cheek and he lowered his face doan until his forehead touched Tom's gently. "Me too, Tom." he whispered as he allowed his tears to fall silently, "Me too."

X.X

A tender moment between my two favorite movie killers. For those who have seen the movie, you can already guess who they're talking about.