Jeff sat up and peeled the now dry wash cloth off his eyes. It was almost night again, and the sirens finally stopped. He put the cool medicine Abby had given him in his eyes and waited for the temporary burning to stop. Before he settled back down to get a little more sleep, he glanced over at his little playmate. She lay next to the wall opposite the one he lay next to. She'd been in the same position for hours, the only sign of life being her shallow breath. It was strange, having another person in the room while he slept. He wasn't sure she knew exactly close he'd gotten to killing her when they'd gotten back from the hospital. It would have been easy, tired as she was, but doing so while she'd been unable to respond, well. Normally, he wouldn't have cared. All he wanted was for his victims to be old enough and aware enough to know what was happening, but this was more...personal.

Besides...she was the first person who'd actually done something nice for him in a long time. He couldn't decide what to think of it, why she would bring her killer medicine to keep him from going blind. And the way she talked about emotions and such before they'd left the hospital, he was finally starting to believe that she might be telling the truth when she said she couldn't feel anything.

He lay down on his back and placed the cold, wet rag over his eyes. After all the bloodshed the night before, the feeling wasn't tearing at the back of his head for once. It was still there, lingering. He didn't think it would ever completely leave him. It was all Randy's fault, that fucking bastard. He'd kill him again if he could, and he'd take his time with it. He was the reason he was like this now, he was why his family, why Liu...

Liu.

Jeff sighed and sat up, pulled the wash cloth off and tossed it to the floor. He really didn't want to think about these things right now. Giving up on trying to get back to sleep, he thought of what he should do to keep himself busy. His eyes fell on the sleeping woman, and after a moment of consideration he picked up his knife and walked over to her side of the room. He kneeled next to her and carefully pulled her shirt up, wanting to look at the wound. She was laying on it, though. He put the tip of his blade against the soft, smooth skin of her stomach and made a thin, quick cut. Her muscles flexed in response, and she began to stir.

"Hey, Abby Addams, wake up. I'm bored." he said, digging his finger into the thin bleeding line he'd put into her.

She made a soft noise as she was pulled from her sleep. Finally, she was awake enough to sit up. Her eyes, which he noticed had deep circles under them, focused on his. She gave him a tired, forced, fake smile, "Hi. Good morning?" she glanced at the window, the sun getting ready to set outside, then back to him, "Or night?"

Now that she was in an upright position, he pulled her shirt up further and looked at the stitched flesh, his dry flaking blood still on it. He lightly touched it with the knife, digging it into one of the threads. He put almost enough pressure to snap it, to the point that just a feather more would have. When she made no response, he pulled the blade away from her and returned his gaze to hers. "I was thinking we could go to the park tonight." he said suddenly.

"The park?" she tilted her head questioningly.

"Yeah. There's a dog park near here. Not many go there after dark, and it's an open area. I thought we could play there for a while."

"Sounds good." she said, "Should I start running now?"

"Nah. We haven't eaten yet."

"Eaten?"

"Yeah. Food. Stuff to put in your stomach so you don't die. Of starvation." at the word 'stomach' he jabbed the blade at an uninjured part of hers, causing another shallow wound.

"Are you going to keep that up until I die of blood loss?"

"Maybe. Are you going to let me keep doing it until you die of blood loss?"

"No. I'll shove you away if you do it again."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Do you want it to be?"

Instead answering verbally, he cut her again. As she'd promised, she batted at the hand holding the knife and pushed herself off the wall, her palms landing against his shoulders. He dropped the weapon and grasped her wrists, laying back so that her momentum carried her forward. Once he was on his back he rolled over so that she was under him, and pinned her to the floor. It felt odd, have someone in this position and not have them be panicking. He laughed, amused.

"What's so funny?" she asked, seeming unbothered by the potentially fatal situation.

"I could strangle you." he said bluntly, "I could bash your head into the floor, snap your neck, tear your throat out. I could shove my fingers through your eyes and into your brain, and you aren't doing anything about it."

"That is funny?"

"It's fucking hilarious." he sat up, straddling her waist, his arms folded over his chest. He chuckled again as he looked down at her, "Not many people would take the possibility so well."

"Most people don't have something missing in their head." she countered, and again, that fake, stupid smile.

"Will you stop it?" he snapped, suddenly annoyed.

"Stop what?"

"That. Smiling when you don't mean it. It's like you're lying."

She frowned, though he could tell it was more bewilderment than actually being upset. "People usually prefer when I fake it than when I just sit here doing nothing at all."

"I don't. Be yourself, or I don't want to play anymore."

"Understood." she said simply, before pushing up with her elbows so she was closer to his face. "So then, if I may ask, why are you acting so strangely today?"

He snorted and pushed on her shoulders again, making her lay back down. He leaned his face in close to hers, close enough to feel her breath. He gazed deeply into her eyes, as if about to tell her a secret, "No reason." he hopped off her and stood, waiting for her to stand as well before he spoke again, "So, we'll go to the bar first, then we'll go to the park."

"Okay." she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to straighten it out a little while he retrieved his knife and stuffed it into the pocket of his hoodie. He pulled the hood up, and started for the door, motioning for her to follow. They walked side by side down the road, a soft night breeze starting up. "So," she said, looking over at him, "Does this mean you're actually enjoying our game?"

He shrugged, gripping the blade, trying to reopen the wound again, "I have nothing else better to do." he replied in monotone.

"You're mocking me."

"Angry?"

"No. I can't get angry."

He reached out and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her hard enough to almost knock her over onto the ground. She made a light, half yelp of surprise as she steadied herself. "How 'bout now?"

She stared at him for a moment, "You want me to be angry?"

This time he pushed her, though she handled herself better this time, having been expecting it, "You're doing things just to see what I do. Turn about's fair play, my friend."

"Jeff? What did you mean last night?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Last night?" he met her gaze, seeing the curiosity flash underneath.

"You said, you don't kill out of anger. You said you kill because you can't control 'it' if you don't. What it 'it?'"

He didn't answer for a moment, the memories of that night all those years ago flashing through his mind. He sighed and reached into his pocket, reopening the wound he'd given himself the night before with his knife. "It's a...feeling." he said slowly, unsure how to explain it. He didn't know what it was himself, but to try and tell someone who didn't feel emotion? "In the back of my head. It...it made me do something I never wanted to do, and if I don't kill I can't keep it from taking over."

"...what did it make you do?"

"I don't want to talk about it! Fuck, can't you take a hint?" he snarled darkly, quickening his pace so she fell a few steps behind. Apparently, she understood, because she fell completely silent for almost a minute.

Just as he thought she wasn't going to say anything else the rest of the trip, she spoke on word. "Apologies."

He paused and looked back at her, just in time to see her stop walking as well. She stood there, her face blank as ever, her eyes meeting his evenly. His anger fading, he stepped back so he was beside her again and grabbed a hold of the brace on her wrist. With a sudden, hard tug, he knocked the woman off balance, "Catch me if you can." he challenged, before taking off down the road.

"Jeff!" she called after him, but he only laughed and sped up.

He would kill her, eventually. That very night, if he could get a hold of her. But that was no reason he couldn't mess with her until then, was it?