Masky's hands gripped your thighs tighter as he ran, your arms starting to slip from around his neck even though you tried your hardest to hold on. You were starting to lose the feeling in your arms.
Masky's back was warm and sticky. The red substance starting to smear along his back and seep through his jacket and shirt. He could feel the bond slowly weakening between you and him, your life slowly draining with your blood.
Shit, he wasn't going to make it back to the mansion in time and his phone got destroyed and lost some time during the fight. Slendy was out of range to even mentally call for him, so that was out of the question. Hoodie was out helping Toby get back to the mansion a different way, as everyone had been split up.
Just barely was Masky able to catch you when your arms slipped from his neck, although dragged himself to the forest ground as well, your body lying heavily on his. He struggled to lift you up, hooking his hands under your armpits and lifting you off him, setting your back against a tree. A soft, pained groan rumbled from your chest, face scrunching up as you settled, relaxing as much as possible with an open wound.
Masky was hyperventilating, searching around for something to block the opening or even stitch it up-
Jacket. He had a jacket.
Despite the freezing cold air, he lifted off his jacket, moving so he could fold it enough and wrapped it around your midsection. It should hold off the bleeding for a few minutes or longer. He didn't know. He wasn't Dr. Smiley or Slenderman, He didn't know how to treat bad wounds--Hoodie and Toby never got hurt enough for it to be fatal.
He choked on a sob, kneeling right in front of you, dropping his head onto your uninjured shoulder. The other was covered in split skin, blood, and shredded pieces of clothing.
You huffed out a short laugh and smiled at the upset boy. "Don't cry. Besides, I'll be fine."
You weren't. You knew you weren't. You knew there was no way around this at all. You knew Masky knew.
You both knew what was coming.
"No," he choked, "no, you're not. You're not gonna be fine, you aren't getting out of this and I can't do anything to help. "
"Masky. Tim." He stopped as his real name left your lips. You hardly ever said it unless there was a good reason. Normally, it was out of annoyance or when he wasn't listening. Normally, it bothered him when you said it but, he wanted to hear you say it again.
He exhaled shakily. "Say it again."
His heart broke into pieces at how soft-spoken you were. The way your voice dropped from where it was before, a smile painted upon your lips.
It was rare he would want you to say the name a second time. Naturally, he hated the name and only ever used his alias, Masky. You laughed softly, smile widening but Masky wasn't laughing, he wasn't even smiling.
"Y/n..." He started, cupping your cheek with one hand.
You nuzzled his palm and sighed. "I'll be okay. You'll be okay, right? I'm always with you and I always will be. Just don't forget about me, okay?"
"You're not dying on me, Y/n!" Masky practically shouted, hand moving to the back of your neck but he didn't move you or hurt you in any way. "You're not leaving me..."
With a shuddered breath, you smiled softly, reaching up and pulling his mask away from his face. "Lay down with me," you requested softly. Painfully, you tried to move away from the tree, although irritating your wounds.
Masky helped you move, sitting against the tree so you could lean against his chest. Something he had learned about you within the three years of having you as a soul mate; you absolutely loved to lie on his chest and just listen to his heartbeat and breathing.
His hand fell in its normal place on your ribs, watching your face as you settled down, head tucked into his shoulder, eyes unfocused but trained on his chest, watching the rise and fall of each breath he took. It was peaceful.
If it weren't for the fact that you were dying and he couldn't help it.
He could feel your own heartbeat against his side, weak and slowly slowing down. Each pause between beats getting longer and longer, each beat getting softer and softer. Your breath followed suit.
"I love you, Masky," you muttered, with the last of the energy you had, you turned and pressed a soft kiss to his neck, moving back to your original position afterward.
Masky was shaking, holding back any tears he could. "I.. love you too, Y/n."
A soft laugh left your lips, the last thing he heard before silence fell over him. His hand remained still over your ribs, your body no longer moving for it to rise and fall anymore. He could no longer feel the soft beating of your heart, nor feel the soft breaths hitting his chest.
You were gone. Officially. His soulmate was gone.
He emotionally felt dead and numb, no longer caring for anything else. The usual calm feeling he would have from walking around the woods at night was no longer a thing; he didn't feel anything.
Remaining silent, he softly and carefully moved your body off of his and back against the tree. He removed the jacket from around your abdomen, slipping it over your arms, dressing you in the fabric. It was cold but he didn't care. He didn't need it.
He slipped his mask back on, picking up your lifeless body, and stalked back to the mansion. He didn't feel the need to cry, he wasn't sad. He was pissed. Pissed that Slenderman wasn't around to be able to help. Pissed that him, Toby, and Hoodie got split up. Pissed that the fight hadn't gone their way. Pissed that you had gotten in the way and took a hit for him instead of letting him get hurt. Pissing that there was no way to help you. Pissed that there was no one around to help. PIssed that he had to live with the memories.
Slenderman had control over his life. He could kill himself, he couldn't leave. He couldn't do anything.
He had to live with the knowledge that you died for him and he had no way of helping you.
You had once called him a monster before either of you started warming up to each other and the comment soon faded to an apology later.
He was nowhere near a monster when you first met him.
You want a monster?
You'd better be fucking ready for a monster.