Author: SpecialHell PM
Tom Hanniger moves away. He meets Clay Miller and his sister, Whitney. But all does not go well. Slash, Character DeathRated: Fiction T - English - Supernatural/Horror - & Tom - Chapters: 6 - Words: 3,658 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 8 - Published: 09-12-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6318430
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N. This is a crossover between the recent remakes of Friday 13th and My Bloody Valentine. I've made the MBV finale a little more supernatural than it actually was, and Whitney Miller may start to sound like River Tam in places; sorry if either thing annoys you. This fic is slash, and there will be violence and character death. If you don't like any of those things, you probably shouldn't read it.
'Tom. Tom Hanniger. That's my name. That's who I am. That's all I am.'
'You sure about that, kid?'
Tom stared at his reflection. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he didn't like what he found. Breathing hard through his nose, Tom brought back his fist and shattered the mirror; causing thousands of little Toms to stare back at him. Nursing his bloody fist, Tom turned away, grabbing his packed bag and almost running out of the motel room door.
'You can't turn your back on me, boy. I'll still be right here, not matter how far you try to run.'
Clay Miller sighed heavily as he watched the sleeping form of his sister. She looked so pale and helpless against the hospital sheets. Taking a deep breath, Clay stood up and left the room. He needed some air.
'It's your fault, y'know,' A quiet voice taunted him. 'If you'd stayed with them, she'd be fine. It's all your fault.' Clay quickened his steps; needing desperately to feel the cool night air on his skin. He was so caught up that he didn't notice the man walking towards him until it was too late. Their bodies collided, and immediately both started mumbling their apologies. Clay looked down at the man. He seemed distracted, and was nursing an injured hand.
"Hey, are you ok?" The man looked up at this question and nodded slowly. Carefully, Clay reached for his hand.
"This doesn't look good. You need to get inside."
"I think I broke it," The man mumbled, and Clay smiled lightly at hearing the voice.
"I'm Clay, by the way." The man almost smiled.
"Tom." It took Clay a few second to realise he was still cradling Tom's hand in his, and he carefully let go.
"Good to meet you, Tom." The smile on Tom's face turned genuine, as they looked at each other for just a little too long.
'Leave now. You'll just get him hurt; like you have with everyone else.'