A/N: Lovey-Dovey crap...

Behind Those Dark Eyes Prt. 6

Valentine's Day Special

As I'm sitting on my bench, I listen to the radio in the guards officer. It's blaring loudly, and one of the guards call the others over.

"A miner by the name of Harry Warden created a Valentines Day Massacre in the town of Harmony,"

It blares.

I sit there, listening. But my listening is disturbed by the loud tapping of the patient on the other side of Michael. I stare down to look at him, and the patient on the right of that patient was staring at me, giving me a "This guy is crazy" look. I nod, and see the patient growling as he stands, moving to his cell door. "Must escape...must escape..." He mutters, and I glance quickly at Michael, who yet continues to stare at the wall. The patient shakes his head, tapping his foot on the ground, and he literally breaks through his cell door, breaking the lock, and his arm, and runs to the button that unlocks all cells, lifts the safeguard, and slams his fist on it, laughing like a maniac.

Doors open, and chaos breaks. Security guards run in with weapons, tazors, and tranquilliser darts. I stare at my open door, and look at Michael. He is still sitting there. His blue jumpsuit and emotionless mask staring straight forward without any anticipation of escaping. I stand up, and surprisingly, so does Michael. I walk forward, as does he. I exit the cell, not feeling free yet, and Michael exits also. I start towards the exit, but a sharp pain hits me in my lower back. I feel my eyelids droop, and the world begins to slow. I see Michael's blurry, yet looming figure in front of me, and I fall, blacking out.

I wake up with a start. Almost screaming. I stop myself, and look around. My head's throbbing begins to slow, as my vision clears, so I can observe my surroundings. I take a deep breath, trying to keep myself calm seeing that I am in a bed and Michael is staring at me from a distance. Apparently he brought me back to my own room. In my own house- why? What the heck is he going to do to me?! I sit up, nervously, and he watches my every move- with a different kind of gaze. A gaze that showed concern...

I get out of the bed, and try to regain my senses, and walk to my desk, where I used to doodle and look out at the Myers' house. Hoping that one day I'd see Michael again. I turn my head to look at Michael, who was now right behind me, and I jump. "Wow you're faster than I thought.." I chuckle. He stares down at me, an intimidating feeling rushing over me. "So Boogerman," I joke, but he didn't seem to catch it as a joke, so he pushed me to the ground with a simple shove. I get back up, chuckling. "Hey Mikey, remember you're first day at school?" I ask, and he just looks at me with- what was it- annoyance? Hm. I still remember that day...vividly in fact. "Your first bus ride to school?" I ask, and he continues to stare. Now, he just looks lost.

"Do you remember the note one of the kids in the back threw at me?" I say, walking up to him. He watches me. "The time you were alone at lunch," I say, taking his rough hand, "That time we found out our lockers were next to each others," I take his other hand in mine, "The time we both got in trouble for making up our own language in Science class," I say, trying to spin him around like ring around a rosie. "And, the time I kicked those bullies butts in the hallways?" I spin him in circles, and he stops me, looking highly annoyed. "And..." I start, but he glares. I sigh, giving him a real grin, and seeing if I could test his patience. "The time I hit you in the face at lunch with one of my cupcakes? You had blue frosting all over your face!" I laugh, and he rolls his eyes. "Michael, remember the time we went to that diner?" I remind him, and I catch a small glimmer in his eyes- and I actually smile. Even with these cuts. I smile. Because that was the glint I was looking for. A small sparkle in his eyes...even if it was for a few seconds. "And then, at school, that one day, the we both found small little pink an red papers in out lockers...on Valentine's Day..?" I wink, remembering today was Valentines Day. His eyes widen, and he turns around in annoyance. "I still have that by the way," I say, turning back to my desk, and opening the drawer, and pulling it out. Michael turns around, looking at the paper, and back at me. "I hid it so when the special investigators came to check this house, they wouldn't find it." I say, looking at him. He looks at me emotionlessly, and I stare at the features of his mask. I can't stand it. I hate that mask. I hate it! "Michael...?" I ask, and he stares at me with a look that expresses a 'What do you want' kind of look. I don't really want to ask him to take off his mask, because I don't know what he'd do. So, I decide to take a different route.

"Back then...did you really like me?" I ask, and he stares in annoyance. I sigh, knowing this question won't get an answer. I turn to the swivel chair at my desk, and crank it up, to the point my feet are barely touching the floor, and I use my desk to spin myself. I spin myself faster and fast until Michael and my room is just a blur. I giggle softly, thinking about what it would be like to hear Michael's voice...what would it sound like? I wonder...

I try to get off the chair while its spinning, but it just so happened to be the perfect storm. I crash right into Michael, and his arms catch me from beneath my arms, his eyes wide as plates. I look up at him, completely surprised, and I feel my face turn red. I stand up straight, and grin, standing on my tippy toes, so that my face barely lines up with his. I stumble slightly, but maintain my balance in this position. His eyes show ignorance and he seems completely annoyed with me. And I'm sick of him looking at me like that. I haven't talked to him for 20 years. 20. It's been that long. I run my hand through the hair on his mask, and go back down to be flat footed, and yank his head down, making him bend over, and he looks at me with a 'What the heck?!' look.

"Don't you dare give me those looks! You were and still are my best friend! And I am sorry for what happened in the sanitarium, and for being all mean to you! All I wanted was for you to pay attention to me...to notice me again...to accept me..." I say, trying not to tear up. Trembling, I let him go. He quickly stands up straight, and looks down at me. "And Michael, it's been a while since I've seen what you look like...may you, maybe, take off your mask..?" I ask, looking down, but I don't stay that way for long. I quickly glance up, to see his mask still on. He blankly stares down at me, seeming to not respond or not have listened to anything I've said. I finally let the tears fall. We were the greatest of friends when we were young. In fact- I felt we were more than friends. I was only mean because I wanted for him to see that I EXISTED again, to actually pay attention and care like he usually did. But no...he's changed so much. Tears fall into my open mouth, and I stutter, them falling out again, feeling disgusted and embarrassed with myself, I cover my face.

Suddenly, I feel a strong hand grip my shoulder gently. I look up, to see Michael, removing his hand from my shoulder, and reaching up to his mask. He slowly, very slowly, with trembling hands, removes the white mask. He drops it on the floor, and my heart flutters.

He was so handsome. His angular, yet scruffy jaw, his high cheekbones, and his baby blue eyes, his shaggy dark brown hair, he was just perfect. He lowers his head until our foreheads touch. We stay that way for a few moments, and he takes my hand in his, giving it a friendly squeeze.

Friendly.

Not a word I would've chosen earlier for Michael.

But, now he deserves it. He deserves a kind name for once.

I look him in the eyes, his angelic baby blues staring right back at me. I can see it. That small...small spark. I know he appreciates me. I smile. Smile. He inches his face closer to mine, and a heat creeps up my scarred cheeks. His eyes now show emotion, and look rather watery. He reaches up and touches my scarred cheek, and his lips lock with my torn ones. It's almost like he'd taken my breath away. Is this for real or am I still passed out? He breaks the short kiss, his eyes wide. I gulp, and touch my torn mouth. A quick small tear exits his right eye, across his lightly burnt and scraped up face. He traces my scars, trying to derive me from thinking he'd just shed a tear. A man with no emotion had just...

Shed a tear.

The emotionless had just shown love.

And the hurt, had just been healed.