Everyone Needs Somebody to Care

By: Bratney

It was overly warm in the house, like a brick oven. On top of it all, it didn't help that I was only semi-conscious as well. I could see the faces around me. People were looking at me, but it was all so blurry. Things were fading in and out of my vision and I couldn't move my head to look away.

It wasn't as if I was scared, far from it actually. I was heading out into the middle of the desert to go kill myself before my car broke down. I vaguely remember meeting up with a cop, talking about changing a flat, and the buzz of something starting up. I hadn't screamed when I was hit, and haven't screamed since.

I had been fading in and out for a couple of days, how many I couldn't say. I could hear screams, voices talking in low whispers, and sometimes I could feel something or someone touching me. It wasn't unpleasant, the touch, like someone finally cared about me.

I must have been hit pretty hard. I could tell I was covered in blood, and being able to stay conscious for no more than fifteen minutes at a time, and only seeing fuzzy shapes for most of it. A few times I'd been able to make out faces, and had given each person a 'name' of sorts.

There was 'Mama'. She was a sweet old lady who had to be the mother of at least one of the other people in the house, 'Sheriff', from what I got out of their conversations he wasn't really a sheriff, and 'Leatherface', a man who wore a mask that looked surprisingly like human flesh and always had blood stains on his clothing. There were more people in the house, people that I hadn't named yet, but their voices frequented the fuzzy parts of my days.

I tried to make my eyes focus, succeeding after a few minutes of straining against my heavy eyelids. The sight was what most people would think of as normal. A family of people was sitting around a table, eating something I couldn't place, and it irked me. Every once in a while, one of them would get up and come look at me, maybe to make sure I hadn't died yet.

"Water?" I questioned from my chair, hoping to receive some hydration.

"Thomas, go and get the girl some water," a voice said. I rolled my eyes toward the voice and placed it with a lady sitting at the end of the table.

A big guy stood up and went over to the sink; he roughly grabbed a cup and filled it with water. He brought it over to me and shoved it against my mouth, tipping it up, spilling water down my front, managing to get some in my mouth.

His hand came up and caressed the side of my face; his hand was cool to the touch and a welcome feeling against my skin. I leaned into him, closing my eyes at the contact. He jumped back, glaring at me; I guess he didn't know what I had been doing, most girls probably screamed.

I groaned as the uncomfortable heat overcame my face once again, I looked up at the man, mentally begging him to come back and touch me. He had felt good, even if his fingers were a bit dirty. He moved back toward me and placed his fingers against my face. I looked up at him and pressed my cheek closer to his hand again.

"Stop playing with the girl and get over here and eat your food," a male voice snapped, causing my human air conditioning to move back to the table. I gave the man a glare and closed my eyes, drifting off into an un-restful sleep.

It was only about twenty minutes later that I was woken once again, this time by being unceremoniously thrown over someone's shoulder. From the size and the heat of the body, I'd have to guess it was the same guy from earlier; I snuggled closer to his body as he walked up a flight of stairs. Then we went though a doorway, where he stopped and dropped me on the bed like a sack of potatoes.

I let out an 'oomph' and looked up at him.

"Am I sleeping here tonight?" I questioned, uncertain of what was going on. He gave a quick nod and sat down in a chair across the room. "Are you going to watch me all night?" I asked, positioning myself in a way that I could look back at him, he nodded again. "Don't you have your own room to sleep in?" He raised his arm and pointed at the bed I was laying in.

My eyes widened, he was giving up his bed to let me sleep in tonight. I wasn't sure why, the man obviously killed people like me just about everyday. "Don't sleep in the chair because of me!" I sat up and tried to get out of the bed, finding myself to be pushed back a couple of seconds later.

I looked up at him as he pulled his hands away and turned. "Fine, but you still should sleep in your own bed, I'll stay on this side and you can sleep on that side, deal?" He was watching me as I scooted toward the wall then moved to lie down on his 'side' of the bed, which was most of the bed. He looked uneasy; something told me he trusted me against his better judgment.

I awoke at the crack of dawn the next morning to something shaking me violently. I grumbled and looked up at the masked man above me. "Thomas, was it?" I mumbled in question. At his curt nod, I raised my eyebrow. "Doesn't anyone sleep in around here?" He shook his head and started to drag me down the stairs by my wrist.

There was that lady in the kitchen, cleaning something in the sink when I was forced into one of the chairs. Thomas sat across from me at the table and 'Mama' turned. "Do you and your pet need food?"

I gaped at her, wide-eyed. Me? A pet? "Do you have a name girl? Put your eyes back in your head and close your mouth, you're bound to catch a fly that way. My boy has taken a liking to you; he was told he could keep you as long as he wants. He's done good, he deserves for you to treat him nicely." She set a plate in front of me; I'm not a big meat eater, so I picked at the hash browns and looked up at her.

"I'm Rosalinda Gowin, but everyone just calls me Rose," I replied, finishing off my potatoes and pushing the plate away from me. I looked up at Thomas and gave him a smile; after all, he was the one who saved me.

"Nice to meet you Rose. Let's get you out of those bloody rags and into a nice dress, shall we?" Momma said, coming over to me and taking my arm. "Thomas, get to work downstairs, I'll fix up your pet nice for you."

I spent over an hour being manhandled; this included curling my brown hair so it sat up against my shoulders, putting on makeup, and making me wear a dress that looked like one my Granny would wear. After I was released, I was locked up in the bedroom. She had given me some of her books to read, and some cleaning supplies to keep me entertained until Thomas would come back in the evening.

I picked up a book, one of those sappy harlequin romance stories, and headed over to the chair to begin reading. The story was pretty interesting; the girl went to a PI to help hide her away from her ex-boyfriend. She became attracted to the PI, and they had hot, steamy sex.

I hadn't realized how late it was, but the room was getting dark when the door squeaked open. I looked up a couple minutes later to see him standing there looking at me. I smiled a bit and stood. "Your mama made me look like a doll." I twirled around, letting him examine me. "I haven't ever looked this pretty before in my life."

He, on the other hand, was soaked in blood, and it wasn't his own blood. Anyone that had bled that much would be dead. He looked like he hadn't bathed in weeks, but neither did his mama or anyone else in the house for that matter.

I moved slowly toward him, not wanting to startle him or give him cause to hurt me. I reached up, wanting to rest my hand on his face, but thought better of it when he pulled his head away, I settled on laying my hand on his chest. "You're soaked in blood, you should change into something cleaner," I said looking up at him, my eyes searching his masked face for a sign that he understood.

He nodded once and walked over to the dresser in the corner, he pulled out some fresh pants and a stained, splotchy shirt. He looked at me and I turned away, waiting until he finished getting dressed. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned slowly. It wasn't much of an improvement, but at least I wouldn't get blood all over me when we went to bed.

"Very handsome. Are you going to escort me to dinner?" I said, reaching out to take his hand in mine. He nodded and we walked down the stairs to the kitchen table where Mama had just finished setting down a dish. "Mama, can I just eat salad? Meat makes me sick," I asked, taking a seat next to Thomas and fiddling with my fork.

The statement was mostly true, I could eat chicken without any trouble, but I was pretty sure dinner wouldn't be anything close to chicken. Tonight they would be eating whatever had been screaming in the basement yesterday, and I definitely didn't want to eat whoever that was.

"Why didn't you say anything earlier?" she asked, pulling out a head of lettuce from the fridge, and cutting off a few leaves. "We don't have anything else for a salad, Rose; you'll have to live with just lettuce leaves."

I took them and ate them hungrily, then stopped to watch everyone else eat what looked to be beef stew. I seemed to be the center of attention, everyone was looking at me, probably wondering how such and ordinary, plain girl like me caught the attention of their masked family member.

When Thomas stood, I followed, eagerly awaiting the privacy of the room. I wouldn't be alone, but it would be a whole lot better than staying under the gazes of everyone else.

I grabbed my book and snuggled into my half of the bed, wanting to see what happens to the PI and his girl next. I only planned on finishing the chapter I was on before going to sleep. I felt the bed sink down next to me, I looked up to see a masked face looking down at me. "I'm sorry, I'll finish up quickly, I promise," I said, looking down to my book. "I've only got three more pages until the end of this chapter."

He scooted closer, draping an arm over my shoulder, pulling me against him. I leaned up against him and finished my few pages before getting up to turn off the light. He pulled me up against him when I got back into bed; I sighed and lightly kissed his clothed chest, "Night Thomas."


The next few days went basically the same way; I'd be dragged downstairs half asleep, fed something like hash browns, given clothes to wear for the day, get my hair done, spend the rest of the day reading, then sleep cuddled up close to my big masked teddy bear.

For once in my life, I felt like someone needed me, wanted me around. Granted, he wasn't the best looking guy around, but he was a big sweetie, making sure everything he did wasn't going to hurt me.

By the time a week had rolled around, I was settled into the routine, and I needed something other than books to keep me occupied. I decided, halfway through my reading time that day that our room needed to be cleaned; there was a thick blanket of dust over the entire room.

I started with dusting the few flat surfaces in the room, which included the dresser and the small table next to the chair, and then I swept, and changed the bedding. Mama even gave me some orange peels to use as potpourri when I was finished, I don't know where she got them, but they made the room smell a whole lot better than the rancid meat smell it had before.

I got to take a bath when I was done with the cleaning too, for the first time in over a week I was truly clean. As I sat in bed, book in hand, waiting for Thomas to come take me down to dinner, I felt myself dozing off. I was exhausted from the hard work I had done and I felt comfortable and relaxed.

I felt a hand on my face and one in my hair, a much gentler wake up than I had gotten every morning up until now. I looked up and smiled, rubbing my eyes. "Dinner time?"

He nodded and pulled me out of the bed and into his arms; he had already changed into some clean clothes. I snuggled into him and sighed happily. "Come on or Mama will get mad, we can cuddle later." I stepped back and turned, heading out into the hall and down the stairs. For dinner, I ate my usual greens from the garden as the others ate what had been confirmed a couple days ago to be human body parts. At first, having my suspicions confirmed had made me sick to my stomach, I went to bed early that night, not able to look at Thomas when he came in the room. I came to terms with it quickly, when Thomas threw a fit because he didn't know why I wasn't paying attention to him.

Dinner tonight was interesting, we had visitors. They seemed to ignore me, but I was the center of conversation. The ladies didn't think I was healthy for 'the boy' and I needed to be disposed of before he got too attached. At that suggestion, Thomas grabbed me and pulled me onto his lap and glared at the women.

I laughed and placed a kiss on his chest before standing and nodding at the ladies. "I think I'm going to go up to our room, it's apparent my presence isn't wanted here." I took the steps two at a time, humming to myself as I went. I was being followed; I knew it before I took my first steps. I wasn't worried about it; I recognized the heavy footed steps and turned to face Thomas when I entered the room.

I hugged him close to me, not wanting to let go. "Thomas? You won't let them hurt me, will you?" I was pretty sure of his answer but was overwhelmed with an unknown emotion when he shook his head.

We crawled into the bed, his arms around me as usual; I whispered his name quietly and leaned up to brush my lips against his. He tensed, then relaxed, letting me kiss him before pulling away gently. It seems to me that everyone needs someone to care for them. Even lonely, depressed girls and masked killers.

AN: A million thanks to my first ever beta xoEmalyxo! She's amazing for taking time out of her day to read this fluffy piece of stuff. This is my Holiday present from me to all my horror loving people. I hope you liked reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Leatherface doesn't get enough love.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Leatherface or the rest of his family. But if someone wants to give me a Christmas present I'll never forget, I'd be happy to take him!