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simp4wom3n · 4 months

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The Quiet One Pt V

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!reader

Summary:With Ghostface closing in on them, Act 3 finally begins as everyone teams up to hopefully once and for all take them down. ~ Word Count: 9.8k ~ Warnings: descriptions of gory injuries, blood, and anything that comes with Scream, Scream VI spoliers!!, hella swearing

A/N: OMG HEY!!!! IM BACK!!! It has been such a ridiculously long time since I have written, and I'M SO SORRY. Life really got in the way for a while, but I am back. This fic is so damn long it took me ages, but I hope it's everything you guys wanted. I love you all! COME ON MOTHERF*CKER!!

Pt1 ~ Pt2 ~ Pt3 ~ Pt4 ~ Pt5

Stepping onto the brisk streets of New York, a cool breeze brushed against your skin, painting a rosy hue on your nose and cheeks. The gentle breeze caressed your scar, providing needed relief to its subtle throbbing as you walked hand-in-hand with Tara, who was engrossed in conversation with her sister, while the rest of the group led the way to the station. Eyes scanning your surroundings hastily, your brain attempted to adjust to your new vision as you watched people walk past, utterly oblivious to the psycho that was tormenting their city.

You had never been more jealous.

While meeting Tara was undoubtedly the best part of your life, walking nonchalantly down a busy street at night without checking your shoulder regularly sounded pretty nice. Was it worth throwing your love for Tara away for? Absolutely not, yet you would be lying if you said there wasn't a little voice in the back of your mind that liked to remind you how every day your life could've been - especially after everything you've suffered, as if Woodsboro wasn't enough.

As if sensing your discomfort, Tara paused her conversation with her sister to glance at you worriedly, her eyes scanning your rigid posture and distant eyes moving too fast for her to track. She squeezes your hand to grab your attention as your eyes finally meet hers, your lone e/c eye standing out against its pale white counterpart. "You okay?" she whispers softly, her eyebrows creasing slightly. "Yeah," you sighed dejectedly, "just kinda wishing I had a normal life... you know, without all this Ghostface shit".

You watched as Tara's face fell slightly at your words, causing you to panic, "It's not your fault! I love you and everyone here. I just hate worrying about who will be alive in the morning." Her expression was slightly lifted as a small smile formed on her lips, but guilt continued to gnaw at her eyes. You could hear her whisper, "Yeah, I get it", as she briefly looked away to look at others a few metres ahead of you. She lets go of your hand with a comforting squeeze as she quickens with each step. "I'll be right back."

Watching as she walked off, a gentle hand on your shoulder pulled your attention from the small girl now talking to Mindy. "Did I say something?" you ask, knowing it was Sam standing next to you. "No, she just likes to run off sometimes," she jokes lightheartedly, a slight chuckle falling from your lips. "Tell me about it.". Mindy glances back at you as Tara approaches Chad and Danny. "She's a difficult girl to understand, but if there's one thing I know for sure, it's that she loves you. It's a little obsessive, honestly." Your cheeks flush as you look at Sam questionably, "Sam being sentimental? Never thought I'd live to see that." "Oh shut up" she shoves your shoulder playfully as a comfortable silence falls between the two of you.

Curious, you gaze at Tara as she returns to her position beside you, intertwining your hands without hesitation. You enquire softly, "What was that all about?" while she keeps her gaze fixed on the approaching station stairs. "Nothing. I just needed to talk to them about something.". Despite feeling it was about you, as said friends kept looking over their shoulders at you, you stopped yourself from pushing it.

As soon as you stepped foot in the station, you were greeted by an overwhelming influx of people, many of whom were dressed in Halloween costumes. Mindy steps back from the group in front to stand by your side as you take in your surroundings for the first time. Like you, she looks through the crowds, her expression more serious than you're used to on her. You excused her unusual behaviour until you both walked into someone who stared at you wide-eyed, horrified by your scar.

"What the fuck are you looking at?! Fuck off! Jeez... some people."

Now, you were the one who had to look at Mindy with wide eyes. This type of aggression was uncommon for the typically gentle and humorous girl, so the fact that she even displayed it, especially to defend you, it shocked you, to say the least. "Damn, Mindy… thanks," you muttered under your breath as Mindy returned your timid smile, "They deserved it."

Walking further onto the platform, the group waited momentarily whilst the train came to a stop and the doors opened. With tons of people trying to squeeze through the small doors to fit in the tiny space left on the packed train, it became a free-for-all. It happened in a blur; your hand separated from Tara's as Danny dragged her onto the train, leaving you and Mindy amongst the wave of people.

Amidst the chaos of people jostling your shoulders, your attention shifted away from Mindy's presence and focused solely on reaching a concerned Tara. Mindy's frustration became evident through the curse words she hurled at those around you. As you pushed your way towards your girlfriend, an obnoxious person dressed as Ghostface forcefully pushed you from behind, causing you to stumble onto the train and into Tara's embrace, the girl grunting softly at the impact. The echo of Mindy's furious tirade filled the air as you finally turned to witness her forcefully pulling off their mask.

Tucked in Tara's embrace, a soft chuckle escaped your lips at the scene before you. That was until the doors of the train started to close. "Shit… Mindy!" you exclaim, feeling a surge of guilt wash over you as you desperately try to reach the door, only to be held back by Tara. You watch Mindy's sudden realisation of the closing doors, a loud 'fuck' escapes her lips as she tries to navigate through the remaining crowd in her path.

The doors shut just as she's about to reach them.

You pound your fist against the door in frustration, mirroring the same exasperated look on Mindy's face. Grabbing your phone, you motioned for her to do the same through the glass as you texted her. The whine of the train starting to move fills your ears as Tara pulls you closer, her body wrapped around your free arm.

In the midst of all the chaos, it escaped your attention that Ethan had also managed to miss the train, although you couldn't quite fathom how. Your phone dings with a text from Mindy. "She's taking the train right after us with Ethan," you inform the group, slipping your phone into your back pocket and releasing a quiet sigh.

"She'll be okay. She's Mindy." Tara comforts you softly, gently stroking your arm as you gaze down at her, nodding in response. You embraced your girlfriend in a tender and heartfelt hug. You were burdened with guilt. You're not sure where this sudden protective nature had come from, and although your heart felt some relief knowing that she cared, you couldn't help but feel responsible for it.

She was protecting you, and look where that got her.

Letting go of Tara, you gently kissed her forehead and intertwined your hand with hers. Until now, you were completely absorbed in your thoughts, oblivious to the tension brewing within the group. Taking your gaze off your girlfriend, the source of said discomfort became obvious.

Ghostface.

Everywhere.

"Oh, what the fuck" you cursed as Tara's grip on your hand tightened. Everywhere you looked, there were individuals wearing the costume that perpetually plagued your nightmares, and their unwavering gazes seemed to be fixated on you. "Why are there so many of them?" Chad asked, his frustration evident in his voice as he, too, grew tired of encountering the same pale mask wherever he went.

Everyone's faces are ridden with anxiety. "How many stops do we have?" Tara inquired with a heightened sense of urgency, eager to get off the train just like the rest of you. Sam gazes at the map, undoubtedly internally pleading that it's not too many. Looking back at the group, she hesitates slightly, revealing the news couldn't be good. "Ten", she speaks solemnly. Tara's eyes are filled with concern as you exchange worried glances, causing your heart to race at an abnormal speed.

The subway lights start flickering, intensifying the eerie atmosphere inside the train. Your vision, already impaired, struggled to follow every Ghostface amidst the flickering lights. It became nearly impossible for you to keep track of them, adding to the waves of anxiety that were rushing over you.

As the train came to a halt, the lights flickered into a steady glow, and a voice over the intercom announced your arrival at 79th Street. In a matter of seconds, as you glanced down the carriage, your gaze met that of one of the masked individuals. Your face fell. A sense of fear filled the air, your breath catching in your throat as both of you remained motionless, captivated by the piercing gaze of those intense black eyes.

As if they had never been there, your intense gaze was interrupted when they vanished behind someone getting on the train. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach as you scanned the area, desperately searching for any sign of them, but your efforts proved futile. The others remained clueless about what you just saw as the train started to move again, the lights resuming their irritating flickering.

You pulled Tara closer to you as the carriage grew dim, the silhouettes of your friends becoming the only discernible shapes in the darkness. With a tender embrace, she places her hand on your back, tracing soothing circles that bring you a sense of calm. You locked your gaze on the floor as the cabin continued to flicker around you.

"This is 72nd Street", the announcer speaks monotonously, the train coming to a stop as you look up from the floor, noticing your girlfriend's concerned gaze directed towards you. Attempting to avoid her gaze, your sight lands back on the Ghostface from before, again staring daggers at you. You try to maintain an equally stern gaze, which you manage until they start moving towards you at pace.

"Guys", you quickly inform the others about the imminent danger. The atmosphere instantly tense up as all eyes fixate on the approaching figure. Tara and Chad both step forward to protect you. The Ghostface suddenly stops right in front of you, causing your friends to freeze in an effort to avoid giving away any reaction, just in case it's not the real killer.

Attacking a perfectly innocent person on a New York subway was the last thing you needed, especially with the rumours surrounding Sam.

With a sudden and effortless motion, the person in front of you removes their mask, making Chad flinch. Instead of those frightening black eyes, a teenage girl's soft brown eyes fixated on you, brimming with a curious intensity that seemed almost unhinged.

"Holy shit, your makeup is so good! I saw it from across the train, but, oh my god, it looks so much better up close. How did you do it?" she chirps out in excitement. You freeze, immediately recognising she is talking about your scar.

Your perfectly real scar.

You find yourself speechless, unable to form a response as the unexpected question catches you off guard. Without hesitation, the girl extends her hand towards your face, her fingers inching closer to your scarred face. Taken aback, you witness Chad's hand swiftly grasping the girl's wrist with a firm grip. The expression on the girl's face is filled with surprise, whilst Chad displays determination.

"Get away from her before I make you." Your eyebrows raise slightly at his words, your lips quirked into a small smile as you revelled in your friends' newfound sense of protectiveness.

It made you feel human again.

You softly thank Chad, who gives you a curt nod and a smile as your face lights up with a smile that hadn't adorned your lips for many days. Since Ghostface's return, your life has been completely turned upside down. Your friends began to turn against you as the blame game singled you out as its victim, tearing apart the very essence of your being.

However, at this moment, as you bear the marks of your past and the lasting impact it has had on you, a newfound determination surges through your veins as you observe the individuals surrounding you.

These were your people. Your family.

You were determined to go to any lengths to protect them, even if it meant sacrificing yourself for their sake.

With your hands still interlocked, you finally emerge from the sweaty train and lead the way up the stairs, closely followed by Tara and the others. You quicken your pace up the weathered stairs, your gaze searching for a blonde who had agreed to meet you here. A voice you recognise calls to you as you reach the peak of the staircase. "Hey," you hear her say, your eyes meeting Kirby's as you shift your gaze towards the woman.

As she approaches, she effortlessly inserts herself into the group, seamlessly blending in as you all make your way towards the theatre. "I've talked to Bailey. I've got everything set up," she explains before noticing the lack of numbers in the group. "Where are Mindy and Ethan?" she asks, her voice tinged with a mixture of worry and suspicion. Clenching your jaw slightly at the reminder of the people you left behind, Tara jumps in to respond, "They're five minutes behind us."

"Let's get you all inside.", Kirby speaks, nodding in response before she redirects her attention to the theatre, which is now just a few steps in front of you. As the dilapidated structure looms before you, its imposing presence casts a shadow over the group. Everyone's steps come to a halt as Sam directs her attention towards Danny. "Not you."

Turning towards them, you watch as shock comes over Danny's face, "What?" he says, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Don't trust anyone, remember?" Sam speaks softly yet assertively. "We don't know you. Not really.". His face contorted with hurt as he leaned towards Sam. "You know me," he said, trying to convince her to let him protect her.

"You're not Woodsboro. I'm sorry." Whilst you felt bad for Danny, despite knowing that Sam would never willingly let anyone protect her, the revelation that being part of Woodsboro meant you were trusted filled a small part in your heart that you weren't aware was missing.

Releasing Tara's hand, you gently wrap your arm around her shoulder, pulling her close as you watch the interaction. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile graces Tara's lips, a sign that she's starting to see the return of the girl she loves after the emotional and physical turmoil you've both endured over the past few days.

"It's okay. It's okay, I get it." Danny finally speaks up. "Be safe, okay?" he pleads Sam, leaning in and kissing her cheek tenderly while delicately caressing her arms. Sam's face reveals a hint of guilt as she replies, "You too." before swiftly turning around and continuing walking. The rest of you cast sympathetic glances at Danny before joining the girl on the way to the theatre.

"Good call."

As Kirby unlocks the doors with a reverberating clank, a surge of nervousness courses through you as the doors swing open, revealing the dimly lit theatre. With Tara clinging tightly to your side, a sense of unease washes over you as you cautiously enter the room, fully aware of the gravity of the situation. "I cleared the whole place before you got here. This is the only way in or out." Despite your best efforts to pay attention, Kirby's words seemed to go unnoticed as you surveyed the familiar surroundings, a sense of unease growing within you.

"So, this is the only way in or out. He steps in through the first door, both doors lock automatically, trapping him inside. We turn it into a kill box." Kirby continues to explain enthusiastically, clearly entertained by the fact that this is finally her chance to bring one of these psychos to justice. "Weapons?" Sam questions. "One gun and I hold onto it." Sam gives Kirby a disapproving look, but before she can say anything, Kirby interrupts her, "I'm the only one with a badge here. That's the way it's going to be. We're safe here."

As much as you want to believe what she says, this was Ghostface you were dealing with. Despite the lingering uncertainty, you made an honest attempt to maintain trust in the plan's success, not only for your own sake but also for the sake of the others, particularly Tara.

"I'm gonna check in with Mindy. See if they're close." Sam interrupts, breaking the suspenseful silence that had fallen amongst the group. As Sam walks away and Chad follows, Tara squeezes your hand for your attention. "Come with me?" "Of course", you reply softly. She guided you to the old confectionary stand, a room that had unexpectedly become an escape for the two of you, as it felt like the only safe spot in the entire building.

Besides, it was Tara. You would follow her wherever she went.

"When was the last time anybody used this place? It's so old," Tara comments as you walk through the door. Although not well-maintained, the room decor still manages to evoke a strange sense of comfort as you softly chuckle at her words. "Yeah," you respond softly as you both make your way to the counter, gently letting go of Tara's hand and resting your elbows on it.

As you spot an old box of Milk Duds across the counter, your hand instinctively reaches out to grab them, only for your hands to collide with the girls next to you. A faint blush tinges on your cheeks as her hand pulls back, causing a soft chuckle to escape your lips, "I-I'm sorry, you can have them". You apologise, holding the box towards her, a hint of nervousness evident as you gently bite your lower lip. She pushes your hand back towards you with a slight smirk. "Take them."

"No, I mean…" you stuttered, her touch sending a shiver down your spine as you savoured the rare moment alone you'd shared with her for a while. "If you want them, you have them," you eventually finish. "You think I want these?" she chuckles, prompting a shared embarrassed laughter between the two of you. Your eyes lock, smiles forming on your faces, entirely captivated by each other. "Kind of", you joke, raising your eyebrows at her. "They're like a hundred years old. Maybe that's your thing."

Your soft laughter trails off into a comfortable silence as you look down at your hands, your heart racing, but this time from a much more pleasant catalyst. "I really missed you. I don't know why I told you to back off." You smiled gently at her, tears starting to well in your eyes. "I was so stupid. This whole time, all I really needed was you."

The more she spoke, the more flustered you got. Instead of enjoying the sentiment, you couldn't help but let your mind destroy it.

You're different from the person she is talking about.

She fell in love with the girl whose face wasn't mutilated and would probably scare off young kids. Whilst Tara and your friends could look past it, understanding the trauma you had gone through, you would never be able to walk down the Street without being met with horrified gazes from every direction. And even though Tara would undoubtedly try to protect you from it, you were convinced that her efforts would be futile.

"I'm not the same anymore," you said dimly. Tara frowned at you, gently taking hold of your trembling hand. "What do you mean?" "I just... someone mistook me for a Halloween costume for fucks sake... I'm not the same, and I never will be." You speak, deliberately avoiding eye contact with your girlfriend, as if her reaction would confirm the truth behind your words.

She could never see you the same.

Instead, her delicate touch caressed your cheeks, mindful of your scar, as she tenderly lifted your gaze towards her. Your teary eyes met hers as she looked at you with a tender smile. "Y/n... scar or no scar, you are still the same girl I fell in love with. Nothing will ever take you away from me, especially a scar that makes you look pretty badass if you ask me." you chuckle at her words, a few stray tears escaping, which she gently wipes away.

"I love you," she says, her gaze locked with yours, ensuring her words reach you. "I love you too," you speak with a chuckle, leaning closer to her as she wraps her hands around your neck and draws you in. The moment your lips connect, it feels like heaven. The taste of her lips is a sweet revelation, and you plan to savour every moment. The room seems to blur as the outside world dissolves, leaving only the two of you. The warmth between you intensifies, and a current of desire courses through your veins. Sinking deeper into the kiss, you wrap your arms around her waist, squeezing her tightly as your lips begin to move.

As you tried to deepen the kiss, a sudden jolt of pain shot through your scar, causing you to pull back. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to suppress the pain, you eventually look towards your girlfriend apologetically as she looks at you worried. "Sorry," you chuckle lightly, "It's... still a little tender." You offer the girl a gentle smile as her hands glide down to your hips. "Don't say sorry. We'll just take it slow." Her seductive gaze locks with yours, setting your senses ablaze and causing a familiar blush to creep onto your cheeks. Briefly taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you lean in again. Nothing else mattered at this moment.

Or so you thought.

As your lips are seconds away from colliding, Tara's body is slammed into you as a scream erupts from her throat. Your eyes go wide in panic as you scream her name, only to see Ghostface standing behind her with a knife in her back. She is ripped from your grip as she is thrown to the ground. Although your instincts told you to help her, the masked individual who was now staring straight at you told you otherwise.

Without warning, their knife comes swinging towards you. Taking a swift step back, you barely dodge the blade as they go to swing again, their arm colliding with you. With a grunt, you harshly grip their arm before pulling them around you and throwing them into the wall. The shattering of glass from the poster frame intensifies the chilling encounter as another swing of the knife inches dangerously close to your face. Dodging the swing, you swiftly regained your footing and delivered a powerful punch to the psycho's face. As your fist made contact with their chin, they crumpled to the ground. As the cries of Tara echo in your ear, in a fit of anger, you direct your attention towards their fallen form and deliver a forceful kick to their stomach.

Frantically realising that there was little time they would be on the ground, you swiftly pivoted and rushed to your girlfriend's side, urgently helping her to her feet and guiding her towards the door. With a sudden burst, the door swings open, startling you as Sam and Chad's faces, filled with terror, appear on the other side, their expressions clearly reflecting the echoes of Tara's bone-chilling scream. They quickly notice your dire situation and urgently drag you from the room.

"Come on, go, go, go!" Sam screams as you run out of the room, and Chad slams the door behind you. "It's Kirby! She's the killer!" Sam yells at you, "No shit!" you scream back, desperate to get out of this place. Running towards the caged exit, you grip its rusted bars and pull at it desperately. "That's locked. Come on". Your face falls further, "Are we trapped?" you yell in disbelief. "She made the whole theatre the kill box. For us."

"Hey, what about that? There's an exit door." Tara directs everyone's attention to an opening on the roof, positioned just above a set of scaffolding. "Maybe it leads to the roof or something," you suggest, looking at your girlfriend, who nods in agreement. "There's only one way to find out. Let's go." Chad quickly takes the lead, leading the group towards your potential escape route.

"Bailey's on the way, but-" Sam's words are abruptly interrupted as Ghostface unexpectedly pounces on you from the shadows of the stage. Tara frantically tries to evade the swinging knife, ending up on the floor in an attempt to do so. Unfortunately, you are unable to do the same as the blade slices the side of your arm. You firmly grasp the wound on your arm as you clench your jaw in pain. You watch as the Ghostface continues to swing at Chad and Sam before Chad manages to tackle them onto the floor.

"Y/n! Come on." you hear your girlfriend exclaim, her voice filled with urgency, as you catch sight of her and Sam moving towards the stage. You swiftly move as Chad forcefully slams an old movie camera into their masked face, causing their head to snap back and hit the ground with a resounding thud.

Chad follows you with the camera in hand as you join the girls backstage, both of them looking around frantically for an exit. "This way! Come on!" Tara's voice echoes through the air as she swiftly dashes towards a small tunnel backstage. You eagerly trail behind her along the narrow path, acutely aware of the ominous footsteps of Ghostface closing in from behind. Until now, your lack of vision in one eye hadn't posed much of a problem. Yet, as you sprinted through the narrow pathway, you kept crashing into the walls while Chad struggled to guide you in the right direction.

As you cast a quick glance over your shoulder, a chilling realisation washes over you - Ghostface is steadily closing in. "Fuck, they're fast," you exclaimed, as Chad also realised their proximity. "Get fucked", he shouted as he made the quick decision to hurl the bulky camera at them, immediately slowing them down.

With the additional advantage, you all made it back into the confectionary area as Chad threw the popcorn machine behind you. They quickly push it out of the way as you all turn around to face them. With a slight tilt of their head, they launch a series of aggressive swings towards you and Chad.

The knife narrowly misses both of you as you attempt to position yourselves for some kind of counterattack. Swinging down at Chad, he manages to grab their arm as you grab their shoulders, throwing them back onto the counter. Sam and Tara swiftly seize their arms, desperately trying to subdue them, while you deliver a decisive blow to their face, sending them crashing to the ground once more. As they fall to the ground, Tara quickly runs up to them and boots them in the face.

You couldn't help but think how hot it was.

"Go! Go!" Chad exclaims, swiftly grabbing the old bubblegum dispenser from the counter. With a determined gaze, he raises it above his head, preparing to deliver a decisive blow to Ghostface. Tara and Sam guide you away from him, leading you towards the door, expecting him to join you momentarily.

His piercing screams quickly disrupt the plan, causing everyone to turn their heads in disbelief. Your jaws hang open in shock as you see another Ghostface standing beside him, clutching a knife pierced in his side. "No! Chad!" Tara screams, sending a shiver down your spine. With Sam holding her back, you watch in suspense as the two masked figures surround Chad and lift him up to his knees.

They absolutely butchered him.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you witnessed the relentless onslaught. You watched him get stabbed over and over and over again as if it was never going to end. You were frozen to your spot. He somehow mustered up the strength to tell you to run, but no one could move. "Go," he sputters out, his determination to save the rest of you clear. In a swift and chilling motion, the Ghostfaces allow his lifeless form to crumple to the ground. With synchronised precision, they wipe their blades clean, sending a shiver down your spine.

Finally getting over your shock, you immediately grabbed the two sisters and dragged them out of the door. "This way. Up here. Come on." Sam directs your pointless running as she tries to get you both backstage. Before you can make it, one of the Ghostfaces pounces from behind the screen. Instinctively turning around, you are stopped immediately as the second Ghostface traps you, waving their knife mockingly.

You're surrounded. Whipping your head back and forth, you watch as they both close in on you, the tension in the air palpable. Thinking quickly, Sam assesses the situation with a determined glint in her eyes. Without hesitation, she swiftly grabs some bricks from the debris-laden floor, handing one to you and another to Tara. In that instant, a silent understanding passes between you - do anything to survive.

As Sam moves the two of you so that you find yourselves back to back, forming an impromptu defensive triangle, the weight of the brick in your hand provides an unexpected but reassuring comfort. The cold surface of the brick grounds you, grounding your resolve as you prepare to face whatever unfolds.

"Ready?" Sam asks, and you swiftly reply, although Tara's distressed cries hinder her ability to respond, overwhelmed by panic and fear. "I need you to be ready. Ready?" With your free hand, you firmly grasp Tara's, offering a comforting squeeze while she inhales deeply. Her hesitation overwhelms Sam, prompting her to urge Tara to look at her. As Tara meets her gaze, a newfound determination fills her voice as she declares, "I'm ready."

"Come on motherfucker!"

Just as the fight was about to begin, the deafening echoes of gunshots reverberated through the vast theatre, prompting an instinctive duck for cover. The ominous figures of the two Ghostfaces hastily retreat into the shadows, leaving an unsettling silence shattered only by your heavy breathing. In the dimly lit ambience, a figure emerges from the stage, and a collective gasp escapes the group as the familiar face of Kirby comes into focus, blood streaming down from a fresh wound on her temple.

"It's okay!" Kirby's voice rings out, a desperate attempt to reassure, though her pained expression reveals the gravity of the situation. The vivid red streams on her face contrast with her pale complexion, creating a chilling scene that leaves everyone motionless.

"Stay the fuck back!" Sam's voice pierces the tension, laced with a mix of fear and anger, earning a confused glance from Kirby, disoriented yet resolute. "We know it's you, Kirby," Tara adds, her tone unwavering as Kirby hesitantly approaches the group. "One of them knocked me out," Kirby pleads, her expression changing to one of desperation. Her eyes are genuine, making you want to trust her more, but your trust issues weren't easy to overcome.

"Kirby, stop!" A deep voice slices through the air, redirecting attention to Bailey, who strides into the theatre with a drawn gun, his gaze fixed on Kirby. "Get away from the girls!". The urgency in Bailey's command prompts an instinctive protective response as you push Tara behind you, eyes fixed on the unfolding standoff.

"What are you doing?" Kirby pleads desperately, the air thick with accusation and uncertainty. "Did you kill Quinn!? Did you kill my daughter!?" Bailey's vengeful glare intensifies, scaring the shit out of you.

He clearly wasn't afraid to kill for his kids.

"Jesus Christ!" Kirby exclaims, her eyes darting between you and the detective in disbelief. With her focus back on you, she pleads again, "Whatever he's been saying to you, don't listen to him." The desperation in her gaze transforms into one of resolve as she turns back to the man threatening her. "He's probably the killer," she speaks assertively.

Your gaze remains fixed on Bailey, his expression unwavering even as the damning accusation hangs in the air. Suddenly, the figure of Ghostface appears behind Bailey, and Kirby's frantic scream fills the space, warning him of the imminent threat, "Behind you!" she screams. Disregarding her desperate plea, Bailey swiftly pivots and unleashes three deafening gunshots that pierce through the air, each shot finding its mark, striking Kirby in the chest, and causing her to crumple to the ground.

The aftermath is a haunting symphony of laboured breaths and the lingering echoes of her cries. As your focus shifts back to the killers, you watch in horror as two Ghostfaces stand alongside Bailey, their presence casting a sinister pall over the unfolding chaos. The dim lighting accentuates their ominous figures, while Bailey, wearing a sadistic smirk, reveals himself as an orchestrator of this grim spectacle.

"Great job. Both of you."

"You?"

A palpable tension filled the air in the dimly lit theatre, engulfing you as the truth unravelled right before your eyes. "Yeah, of course me." Bailey teases with a smirk growing on his lips, "Frankly, I expected more from you two after what you did to us."

"What do you mean 'us'?" Tara questioned hesitantly. Bailey's smirk grew into an insufferable smile as he looked to his left, where one of his accomplices was moving to remove the mask. Your heart pounds inside your chest as the white face and black fabric are torn away, revealing your friend's face.

Ethan.

The seemingly unassuming roommate revealed himself with a sinister grin. "Ta-da!" Bailey laughs, finding the shock on all of your faces amusing. The sick look on Ethan's face made you want to puke, the revelation that someone you considered a friend had been out to kill you all along.

The feeling made Woodsboro feel like nothing. The two killers were Sam's boyfriend, whom you had hardly met and someone who you hated from the beginning.

It was nothing compared to seeing the real side of your friend.

With a smirk plastered on his lips, he begins to taunt you about how unsafe you were the whole time, "Mindy was right; it was easy to juke the roommate lottery. All I had to do to meet you was room with a conceited, condescending alpha, literally named Chad. Fuck it felt good to kill him.". You felt a surge of anger coursing through you as he spoke, causing your jaw to clench and your grip to tighten around the brick in your hand.

The idea of Ethan pretending to be his friend for months, only to have been plotting his demise the whole time without any hint of remorse, ignited an unbearable anger inside you.

"This one was your grandmother's Sam. Nancy Loomis?" Ethan smiles at Sam, pointing to his mask with his bloodied knife. "Really runs in your fucking family, doesn't it? And speaking of family, my name isn't Ethan Landry, is it, Dad?"

"Dad?" Tara speaks for the rest of you, your faces growing more shocked. As the shock washes over you, your focus shifts to the second masked figure who still stands menacingly staring directly at you.

"But, if you're Ethan, that just leaves… Mindy?" Sam breathes out in disbelief. Your expression twisted in confusion as you looked back at the memories of how much Mindy had loved Anika. It seemed impossible, yet who else could it be?

Shock filled the room as Quinn removed her mask, leaving you all in stunned silence. "Hey, Roomies. Didn't see that one coming, did you?"

"But you died?" Tara spoke, a hint of anger behind her voice. "Yeah, kinda didn't, though." Quinn quipped mockingly, "It was a good way to get off the suspect list, stab Gale Weathers, stab Mindy on the train, that sort of thing."

Bailey's proud smile made you feel sick as his proud eyes bore into yours, "I made sure I was first on the scene so I could switch her body out with a fresh one. You'd be surprised with what a grieving father can get away with."

Your anger was starting to burst at your seams, being played for fools and having someone come back from the dead to kill your friends, pulling very tight on your last nerve.

"I got Stu Macher's mask. He was my favourite.". You rolled your eyes at her giddy proclamation. Of course, he was.

Bailey, clearly the leader of this psychotic trio, took slow and calculated steps towards Sam. "Number three and number two. Which just leaves…" Pulling out the most weathered mask from his jacket, he holds it out towards Sam, his eyes menacing. "I'm gonna need you to put it on."

Sam stands tall and looks back at the man with a matching expression, slapping the mask out of his hand as you watch his jaw clench in anger. Ethan is quick to react and slashes his knife towards the girl, slicing through her upper arm with a hiss.

You are quick to catch Sam as she falls back into you. She quickly recovers as she grasps her arm, now dripping with a familiar crimson liquid. Bailey's two minions begin to move around you, circling you as your anger finally comes spewing out of you; you step in front of Sam with rage filling your eyes. "You did all this as a family?" you yell at them incredulously. "Hell yeah, bitch! Sam should know why better than anyone!"

You immediately knew they were talking about Billy, yet the true origin of their motive still escaped you. What family had Sam ever hurt for them to hate her so much to go on a murderous rampage?

"They still haven't figured it out. Maybe we overestimated them." Ethan mocked as the confusion was clearly evident on your faces. Sam was the most confused of all, knowing that she had never done anything wrong. "I don't know what you believe, but I didn't commit the murders in Woodsboro…"

Bailey's laugh fills the theatre, slightly offended that Sam would think that they would believe some stupid internet rumour. Instead, he reveals that it was, in fact, Quinn who had started the malicious rumours, making life in New York for Sam absolute hell.

Each time you think the betrayal couldn't run any deeper, they manage to beat themselves yet again.

"You're a killer, just like your father was.". "I'm not…". "Yes, you are, you motherfucker! You killed our brother!". The gears could finally tick inside your heads as you looked between each other in an attempt to connect the dots. As far as you were aware, the only person Sam had ever 'killed' was… Richie.

Oh shit.

"You're Richie's family?" The realisation also struck Sam as her face sank. "Ding-ding-ding, now she's finally getting it." You shook your head in disbelief. A family seeking revenge for their dead son, okay, sure. Seeking revenge for a murderous psycho by killing his victims who had killed him out of self-defence? Too far.

Yet clearly, nothing was too far for this family, as Ethan revealed the sickening detail that they had killed their own mother because she had refused to avenge Richie. You knew all Ghostfaces were, on some level, psychotic, but this was getting insane.

"Great job with the parenting…" Tara quipped at Bailey, her words bringing the tiniest of smiles to your lips, her sarcasm never failing to entertain you, even if it's whilst you are surrounded by killers.

"You shut your whore mouth!" Quinn screamed at the girl, your jaw clenching at the insult as you looked at her, infuriated. The temptation to throw the brick in your hand at her face almost overcame you until you felt a gentle hand on your wrist.

"I loved my son. So I helped him build this collection." You shifted your gaze towards the older man as he looked amongst the exhibitions with a reminiscent smile. "All of this is Richies?"

The more you seemingly find out about Richie, the more Sam's expression seems to fall. The guilt she had felt after Woodsboro was reborn as her ignorance about her then-boyfriend increased tenfold.

Knowing that this was all Richie's made the space somehow more bone-chilling than before. As your eyes scanned the numerous exhibits, filled with items that belonged in an evidence box somewhere, a part of you pangs with guilt for the other siblings who were clearly the least favourite.

"This is where you have to die." Your attention is brought back to him as he redraws his gun and points it directly at Sam. Instinctively grabbing for Tara's hand, you spare Sam a quick glance, noticing her expression shift as she tilted her head at the man.

Oh, he was fucked.

"He was pathetic, you know?". You watched the deadpan expression on Bailey's face break. "That's not true…" he shook his head. "He was a man-baby who made his girlfriend do almost all the killing." You had to hold back your smile as you watched his facade breakdown. "He was a strong, virile young man!" "He was a weak little bitch who cried before I cut his fucking throat."

As the words leave Sam's mouth, Quinn lunges towards the three of you with a bloodcurdling scream. She is quickly and effortlessly stopped as Tara clocks her in the face with her brick. With teeth and blood flying out of her mouth, she falls to the floor.

A sign that their moment is finally over, your senses are heightened as Act 3 appears to finally kick off. Before you can make any moves, gunshots ring out from behind you as you turn to see Kirby apparently coming back from the dead.

Her resurgence doesn't last long as Ethan quickly rushes towards her with his knife ready in his hand. You're quick to follow the boy as he reaches Kirby and stabs her in the stomach. Finally reaching them as Kirby falls to the ground in pain, you run straight into Ethan, throwing him into the ground. He quickly gets back up and runs away with a maniacal laugh as you shift your focus back to Kirby.

Noticing the knife still sticking out of her stomach, you look at her with a grimace as you realise it's the only way you're gonna get a weapon anytime soon. "Sorry, but I need this." She gives you a small nod as she squeezes her eyes shut.

Gripping onto the handle, you pull the knife out swiftly in an attempt to minimise her pain. She howls in pain, and her hand grips on your arm, her nails digging into your skin as the wave of pain washes over her. Finally relaxing, she opens her eyes back up and looks at you with a tiny smile.

"Fuck 'em up."

As you stand up, you see Ethan reappear from behind a wall, his eyes set on you. Turning towards him, he begins to charge towards you with a sick grin still plastered on his face. "What are you gonna do, scar-face…" he calls out mockingly as he closes in.

That made you snap.

With a new vigour burning inside of you, you lunge towards him as you pull the knife above your head. With a loud grunt, you drive the knife down into his chest. His smile finally washes over his face as he looks at you surprised. Ignoring it, you continue to pump your knife in and out of his chest as if he were a piece of meat, his blood splattering all over you, but you couldn't care less.

Out of breath, you push his limp body off of you as he keels down with blood sputtering out of his mouth. Standing still, you look at his blood-covered body with laboured breathing. Noticing he is still alive, you move to stab him again until you hear your girlfriend's voice from behind you.

"Y/n!" she calls, your head instantly turning in her direction as you notice her beginning to climb the scaffolding behind her sister. Taking your chance, you quickly run towards them, weaving in and out of the display cases before you reach the base of the scaffolding.

Looking for a place to hold your knife, you settle on wiping it off on your shirt, adding to the mural of crimson colours, before placing the knife between your teeth.

As you begin climbing, the gash in your arm aches as new blood begins to flow from the wound. Biting painfully onto the knife, you continue your ascent as you see Tara at the top, reaching her hand down to you. Hearing noise behind you, you turn your head as you watch Bailey and Ethan begin to circle you like sharks, smelling your blood.

With a final grunt, you reach the top and grab Tara's hand as she helps pull you towards the balcony. Watching the two sisters scale across it in front of you, you take the time to try and settle your breathing, which is easier said than done when you're clutching a knife between your teeth.

Moving to follow them, you take the knife out of your mouth and carefully hand it to Tara. Climbing carefully along the railing, you are seconds from making it to safety with the others before another shot rings through the air.

A burning sensation instantly erupts in your leg as you lose your balance and fall backwards. Screaming your name, Sam and Tara barely manage to catch you as your hands barely grip the slippery railing.

Peering over your shoulder, you watch as Bailey moves towards a set of stairs and Ethan moves to stand directly underneath you. "Shit. Not good," you whisper to yourself as your gaze returns to the sisters' terrified looks.

With your injured arm weakening by the second, a noise from the balcony catches your attention as Quinn appears behind Sam, brandishing a bloodied knife in her hand. As Quinn moves towards her, she is forced to let go of your arm, and she turns to face her.

With Ethan taunting you from below and Quinn and Bailey closing in on the girls, you overcome your panic and realise it's your life or theirs.

"Tara, let me go". Your words cause the girl to look at you in shock. “No, I-” “Tara! Let me go.”. Your grip continues to slip as she looks at you as if you have lost your mind.

"Tara… Please." you give her a small smile as she looks at you with tears in her eyes. You watch as her lips begin to quiver, and you feel her grip loosen. Giving her a nod, she finally lets go of your wrists, causing you to plummet down from the balcony.

Turning your attention to the killer below you, you land with a loud bang, and your injured leg collapses beneath you. In an instant, Ethan is plunging his knife into your stomach, a meek whine escaping your lips as you bend over his arm. Twisting his knife inside of you, your loud cru echoes through the theatre as tears threaten your eyes.

Finally, bringing your head up to look at the boy, his smile sent a shiver down your spine as your breathing became more and more laboured. Just as you thought your time was coming to an end, another figure comes falling down from above you.

It was Tara.

Before you can say anything, she lands on her feet with a knife in her hand. Catching Ethan off-guard, she grips his hair and rips his head back. Looking at her with his mouth open, she lifts up her knife and plunges it into the back of his throat. You can hear him gargling on his own blood as she twists the knife, blood splattering on her face.

"Now die a fucking virgin."

Pushing him so that he falls to the ground with a thud, Tara quickly averts her attention back to you, who, to her surprise, was wearing a smirk on her lips. "That was really hot." you chuckled in pain as she kneeled down next to you, noticing the knife was still in your abdomen.

"Shut up," she said before moving to lie you down. Knowing she was about to pull it out, you exhaled shakily before nodding at her, and just like you did Kirby, she pulled the knife out quickly, earning a pained groan from you, before immediately applying pressure to your wound.

Gently removing her hand from your stomach, you move to sit up and attempt to ignore how her hand is now stained with your blood. Making into an upright position, you look at Tara, who is scanning you for any other wounds, whilst you watch her face with a tender gaze.

The bang of a gunshot, followed by the thud of a body that vibrated the creaky floors above your head, brought you both back to the situation you were in. "Help me up," you say quickly, urgently trying to get up and help Sam, presuming it wasn't her body that you heard fall.

As Tara wrapped her arm around your waist gently, she pulled you to your feet; the faint sound of Sam's voice talking to someone calms your nerves. The throbbing from your bullet and stab wound was a rude awakening as to the shape you were in, not to mention the blood that covered almost every inch of your body.

Before the two of you could move towards the stairs, the sound of screaming rang through the theatre as you both looked up. Your jaw dropped. Bailey and Sam came flying over the railing before plummeting into the displays beneath them. As the glass shattered beneath them, you were quick to notice their lack of movement.

Pulling Tara off of you, you pushed her towards her sister. Running to her side, you hobbled as fast as you could towards them. Thankfully, Tara had managed to shake her awake by the time you got there. As she helped Sam to her feet, you sighed in relief as you looked over at a still motionless Bailey.

As the sisters check over each other, your sights remain on the unconscious killer in front of you. "What are we gonna do about him?" you ask, nodding your head in his direction.

You watch as the gears turn in Sam's head, weighing the options between ending it now and letting him die somewhat peacefully or giving him a taste of his own medicine.

She chose the latter.

Hidden behind the curtains on the side of the stage, you watched Bailey through a small slit, waiting for him to move in order to signal Sam that your plan was in action.

It was simple, really. Make him go crazy, and then you kill him.

After a few minutes, Bailey finally began to stir as he moved to sit up. You quickly poked your head around the corner into the hidden hallway, where Sam was standing in her father's costume; you gave her a nod before she pulled a phone out of her pocket and pulled it to her ear.

The sound of Bailey's phone ringing echoed through the now disturbingly quiet theatre. Repositioning yourself so that you can see him, you watch as he rapidly looks around him before standing and bringing his phone to his ear.

You can't hear what Sam is saying to him, but you watch him make his way to the stage as planned. "Oh yeah, what's that?" his voice grows louder as he finally appears on the stage.

Now, the fun part.

As planned, from your place on the ground, you reached your uninjured leg out and kicked a floorboard. Before you could even retract your leg, Bailey snapped towards the noise and fired two precise shots into the heads of the mannequins that lined the stage.

"You put on your true face, huh? Your birthright. Poetic that you're going to die in it…" Exhaling quietly as he spoke, you moved to a spot against a wall where you could relax your weakening body for a minute as Tara played her part.

A noise sounded from the other side of the stage. Closing your eyes as you leaned your head back onto the wall, you listened as Bailey once again flinched and fired his gun, this time the sound of shattering glass filling the stage.

"You know the truth now. Murder's in your blood."

It was your turn again. As quietly as you could in your state, you reached your arm over to the brick that Sam had given you. Picking it up, with the strength left in your arms, you threw it into the back corner of the stage, away from you.

The sound of Bailey's gun firing once again filled the air as he screamed frustratedly, "Stop fucking around and show yourself!". Knowing that it was Sam's turn, you quietly crawled towards the curtain, pulling it aside slightly so that you could peer through.

"I'm a fucking police officer! What are you gonna do, huh? Who do you think they're gonna believe?" he screams once again. A faint smile lands on your lips as you watch Sam appears behind him, wearing the mask and all. Before he even notices her presence, she quickly spins him around before, as you would put it, stabbing the shit out of him.

As crazy as it sounded to say, the sound of his screams was like music to your ears. His family had singlehandedly taken everything from you, so watching him suffer was like heaven to you.

Spotting Tara appear from behind her hiding spot and walking towards Sam, you decided to do the same. With a groan and the help of a wall, you pulled yourself to your feet before weakly hobbling out from your place behind the curtains.

As Sam finally stops stabbing him, and he pleads for his life, you watch with a mixture of admiration and concern, confused as to why she is giving him any chance to live.

She didn't entertain it for long.

"But you did fuck with my family, so…". You watch with wide eyes as Sam gruesomely stabs him straight in his eye, the blade clearly reaching his brain as he falls to the ground, twitching.

"Aw, now we're matching." you joke, earning a laugh from the girls as you look at the mutilated body of the once detective who now also had only one functional eye - had he been alive, that is.

"Let's get out of here," Tara says softly as she grasps your hand with hers. Her touch never fails to make you giddy, but something was off this time. As she tried to pull you towards the stairs off the stage, your head began to spin uncontrollably as a wave of nausea hit you like a truck.

Your legs collapse underneath you as Tara catches you, her face ridden with worry. "Y/n?!? Hey, you're okay, just breathe.". Your vision was fading in and out of a blur as the feeling of your limbs began to escape you. Sam kneels down on the other side of you, matching Tara's expression, as you try to nod to Tara's words.

"Yeah… I just… need a little break." Your eyes begin to flutter shut as you try your best to keep them open. "Keep your eyes open for me, okay," Tara speaks as calmly as she can as she notices the blood beginning to spill from your wounds again.

“Yeah… of course…”

Opening your eyes slowly, you groan softly as the bright light hanging above you stings your eyes. Carefully rubbing your eyes, still careful of your scar, you move to sit up slightly, noticing you are in an empty hospital room. Confusion washes over you, as last you remember, you were on a bloodied stage, and yet here you were.

Doing your best with your aching limbs, you move a pillow behind your back in order to give you a better view of your new environment, admittedly much nicer than your previous one.

Scanning the room, you notice the small TV in the corner of the room is playing The Babadook. You know you didn't put it on, so someone must be here, and it's not particularly hard to figure out who it must be.

With your attention focused on the screen, you fail to notice when Tara walks in the door with a bag of chips in her hand. As she notices your moving figure, a loud gasp escapes her lips. She drops everything in her hands to cover her mouth, her eyes immediately watering.

The sound makes you immediately turn to her, a smile growing on your lips as your eyes meet hers. As the fact that you are awake and alive sinks in, she runs over to the side of your bed and brings her hands up to your face.

Gently cupping your cheeks, her teary eyes look into yours as your hands gently grip her wrists. "Hi," you chuckle softly, the wave of relief finally hitting you. "Hi," she chuckles back even softer, her eyes scanning every detail of your face.

"Is everyone okay?" you ask with furrowed brows as she nods enthusiastically in response. "Yeah, yeah, we're all fine.". The sigh that escapes your lips rids your mending body stress, all of it melting away as soon as you know you have all made it.

Your eyes return to Tara's as she whispers softly, "I can't believe you're alive.". You smile sincerely at her words. "I'm not going anywhere." At your words, she lets go of your face and climbs onto your bed. Your eyes were filled with curiosity. You watch as she wraps her arms around your neck and buries her head in your shoulder.

Instantly reciprocating, you wrap your arms around her waist and hug her with all the strength you can muster. You can feel her tears falling onto your bare shoulder, entangling one of your hands in her hair as you gently play with her hair.

"We made it, Tara. We made it."

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#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream 6 #scream VI #scream #the quiet one #simp4wom3n

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simp4wom3n · 1 year

Text

The Quiet One PtIV

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!reader

Summary: Following the tragic events in the apartment, Tara seeks Y/n's forgiveness when they eventually wake up and must navigate trying to catch Ghostface before he manages to attack them again. ~ Word Count: 7.154k ~ Warnings: descriptions of blood, wounds, and scars, swearing, hella bad grief

A/N: HI!!! pt iv ladies and gentlemen is HERE! In the process of writing this I quite literally had a dream about the plot so idk what that says about it but hey I hope you guys enjoy it - it's a bit less angsty than the last one but pt v will be the final part (plus maybe a pt vi as a nice little epilogue idk yet) anyways ENJOY <3

Pt1 ~ Pt2 ~ Pt3 ~ Pt4

The sight of your body lying still, helpless on a cold hospital bed, tormented Tara as she sat cautiously by your side, the slight movement of your chest and the distant steady beeps of your pulse doing little to settle her racing thoughts.

Her tormented eyes remained focused on the large white bandage that covered most of the left side of your face, the haunting image of your bloodied body as she ran towards you flashing before her every time she dared to close her eyes.

Yes, the doctors managed to save you. To close your wound and stop your bleeding. Yet your sight had managed to slip away from you.

A new scar would now run its course up the length of your face. Your previous y/e/c eye would now turn an unsettling white, the colour and sight draining away whilst you slept peacefully unaware.

(What I'm imagining the scar looks like)

Tara's mind was plagued with images of what might've happened to you, the trauma you had gone through whilst she uselessly attempted to knock your front door down, furious at Chad for pulling her away from you. She gnawed on her bottom lip as she fidgeted in her seat, drowning in guilt.

The night of the party was a day she would likely never forget, not for the murder of her two classmates, but for the fight she had with you, or more accurately, for when she unjustly blamed you for everything going wrong in her life. She blamed you for being too overprotective, for being too clingy.

For loving her.

She had blamed one of the few people who knew the truth about her past and loved her for it. She had known the moment her words left her mouth that you were heartbroken, tears instantly welling in your eyes as your lips trembled uncontrollably.

When you ran away from her, her own heart shattered. She hadn't seen you that upset since the night at the hospital, a night you refuse to talk about to this day. Everyone you had ever loved, whether by choice or not, had abandoned you. Everyone except her.

And she asked you to let her go.

She scoffed at her own stupidity. Sure, she was distraught when she eventually followed you back to the apartment, yet instead of apologising and begging for your forgiveness, she hid in your bedroom, where she hoped no one would talk to her.

And oh, was she wrong.

She ran straight to your bedroom as soon as she got home, a small part of her hoping you were waiting for her at the end of your shared bed. Your face would light up with your infectious giddy smile before you would pull her into a warm embrace and cover her face in kisses.

Sadly, her hopes were shattered when she entered the dark room, flicking on the lights only to find you weren't there. She visibly deflated as she walked towards the dresser, picking up her inhaler and inhaling it deeply to calm her erratic breathing.

She closes her eyes as she exhales, the weight in her chest not getting any lighter. A few soft knocks on the door cause her to open her eyes and slowly glance in their direction. "You doing ok?" asks Quinn, who was standing in the doorway, a sad smile on her face. "H-how do you-" "I saw y/n come in... she's hiding in Sam's room which I figured meant you guys fought or something." She spoke softly as she walked further into the room, taking a careful seat on the edge of the bed.

"Right..." Tara exhaled, taking a seat next to Quinn as she let her face fall into her hands with a groan. "I fucked up" was all that came out of her mouth as Quinn looked at her sympathetically. "Well, if you really did 'fuck up', there's only one thing you can do." Tara looked at Quinn expectantly. "Go apologise!" Tara groaned at the thought. "She doesn't want to talk to me." "You don't know that."

A moment of silence passed before Quinn moved to stand up, causing Tara to look up and notice Chad standing in the doorway. "Just talk to her, ok?" Quinn spoke as she moved to leave the room, giving Tara one last smile before letting Chad close the door behind her. Tara watched as he placed a bottle of pills on the dresser before taking a seat next to her.

She really wasn't in the mood to talk anymore, her brain already working overtime to try and comprehend everything that had gone on within the past hour, plus the fact that she was definitely still tipsy.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as his shoulder rubbed against hers in a way that only made her cringe. "Why does everybody keep asking me that?" she responded sourly, her eyes focused on her hands that fidget in her lap. "Because we care about you.". At his cheesy words, Tara finally lifts her head to look at him, only to realise how close Chad really is.

As he turned his head to look directly into her eyes, Tara could feel his breath fanning across her face. She looked at him, frozen in confusion. She watched as his eyes glanced towards her lips before he leaned in closer.

Before she could pull away, the bedroom door flew open, allowing her to look away from him. Quinn stands in the doorway, her mouth falling open as she stares in shock.

"Did I cockblock you?"

Her question makes Tara's eyes widen, her jaw slack as she glares at Quinn in disbelief. "Wait! Did you break up with y/n?! I thought you guys just fought or...". Tara reeled in astonishment and her words. "W-What are you talking about?"

Chad's constant denial went unheard by the girl as she tried to comprehend what was happening, her chest growing so tight it became hard for her to breathe. "No, no, of course we didn't.", she stuttered. At this point, Chad was making his escape, standing up abruptly and pushing past Quinn and into the hallway, where his face went from one of irritation to guilt.

The sound of rapid footsteps broke Tara out of her trance as she shot to her feet. She bolted out her bedroom door just fast enough to catch your retreating figure, her face dropping at the realisation that you heard the conversation.

She was once again frozen to her spot, her face growing ashen as she watched in numb horror as you, once again, ran away from her.

"What have I done."

A hoarse cough echoed through the bleak room as Tara returned to reality, her eyes blinking rapidly as they turned towards your previously unmoving figure. You were awake. "Oh my god, y/n?!" She shot out of her chair and immediately rushed to your side.

Her hand found yours as she watched your face contort in discomfort, your single bloodshot eye eventually finding hers. "Hey." She spoke softly, a smile of relief appearing on her lips. "Hi." you groan drearily, reaching your hand up to wipe the exhaustion out of your eyes.

As your hand comes into contact with your face, your body jolts with pain as you whimper in surprise. "Careful!" Tara's spare hand carefully grabs yours, pulling it away from your fresh injury as your open eye meets hers in fear. "It's ok, y/n, it's ok.".

You grunt lowly in pain as you move to sit up, Tara helping you as she places pillows behind your back for you to fall back on. Once you were settled, her hand still in yours as she tenderly brushed over your knuckles, you turned your head towards her with tears falling from your eye.

"What happened?" you question in a broken whisper, hot tears trickling down your cheek. She wipes your cheek dry with her soft hand and stares at you sadly, a ghost of a smile on her face. "You'll be fine. You just... you won't be able to see with that eye." She speaks gently, gesturing subtly towards your bandage-covered eye.

You sniffle softly as you turn your face away from her with a subtle nod, a distant expression on your face as you let the news settle in. "You'll have a scar... but other than that, you're perfectly fine, and everything will be ok... I promise.".

Her eyebrows furrow slightly at the sound of your laughter. Worried that she had offended you, she proceeded to apologise, but you interrupted her, joking, "If only I had my pirate costume.". You looked back at her with a cheeky smile creeping onto your lips, your eye carrying a mischievous glint as she couldn't help but chuckle.

You would be lying to yourself if you tried to deny that you were incredibly high, the high dose of painkillers doing their job a little too well. "What? Too soon?". Tara tried her best to contain her laughter with her hand, finally breaking as your laughter once again filled her ears.

"You're really fucking high, aren't you?" she eventually asks through her easing laughter. "Mmm, maybe." you respond with a delirious grin, winking at your girlfriend before letting your head fall back onto your pillows.

Tara's previously joyful expression starts to fade as she returns to the reality of the situation. She grabs a chair from behind her and sits next to you, pulling your hand into a comforting hold before bringing it to her lips and kissing your knuckles gently.

As you tilt your head towards her, your gaze meets hers again. A few hazy memories began to flash through your head, the most devastating of which was the sight of Anika's corpse lying cold and bloody at the foot of the few-storey drop you had climbed across. Regardless, seeing your girlfriend never fails to put your mind at ease.

"I should've been there." She spoke softly, regret evident in her tone. Your forehead wrinkles slightly as you hear her words. Tara had always been confident, so seeing her riddled with remorse was unusual for you. Even so, your cheeks did warm slightly at the idea of her caring so deeply about you.

You squeeze her hand with yours as you give her a thankful smile. "You were safe... that's all I care about.". You weren't lying. You would happily have your good eye sliced if it meant she was safe - she was truly all that you cared about anymore. "I don't deserve you.", Tara whispered dejectedly, your words being no help in alleviating her guilt as her saddened gaze fell to the floor.

As much as you hated to admit it, there was a small voice in the back of your mind that agreed with her. You were never the confident one in the relationship, but at this moment in time, both of you knew that you didn't deserve any of what you had experienced throughout the past few days.

The girl had an eternal hold on you. Seeing her upset would always pull on your heartstrings no matter what you did. And at the end of the day, there was nothing you wouldn't do for the girl, and there was nothing Tara could do that would stop you from loving her, except maybe if she were Ghostface, but even then, you couldn't promise anything.

"Come here." You tug her hand gently, shifting yourself over on the bed so her small form can fit next to you. Her surprised gaze meets yours before she climbs onto the bed hesitantly, slipping her legs under the thin hospital blanket before snuggling up to you. She gently lays her head on your shoulder, carefully avoiding accidentally knocking your healing scar.

You feel her body melt into yours as you wrap your arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to you as you let out a satisfied sigh at the contact. Your hand gently rubs circles on her arm as the two of you sit momentarily in each other's presence, enjoying the silence of the hospital room filled with nothing but the soothing sound of your heartbeat.

"There's no one else I'd rather love." Despite your bandages, you whispered into her hair and placed a small kiss amongst her dark hair. She sits up, turning her head to look you in the eye as her soft eyes meet yours. You observe her swallow harshly as she purses her lips, debating whether or not to tell you something.

"Gale found where the masks are coming from.". Your eye widened slightly at the news, the previously steady sound of your heartbeat from the monitor speeding up. "Ok... and that's a good thing, right?" "Y-yeh... but now that you're awake, I've got to investigate it with the others."

Now you understand why she was hesitant.

"Ok. Well, I'm coming with you.". Tara's previously apologetic eyes widen as she watches you pull the blanket off of yourself before swinging your legs over the side of the bed. "W-wait! No, you have to stay here." You turn your head towards her with your eyebrow raised, shooting her an unspoken 'seriously?' before sighing.

"Last time I didn't go with you, you were attacked... and it's not that I don't trust you, I-... I'm going, Tara. End of discussion.". She immediately swallowed down her rebuttal; the assertion in your voice was unlike any she had heard from you before.

You turned your attention back to getting out of the confined space that was this random New York hospital, the painkillers that still ran through your system hitting you once again as you stood up, your head spinning momentarily.

Noticing your slight wobble, Tara snaps out of her shocked haze and rushes to your side, carefully grabbing ahold of your arm in support as she leads you to the bathroom so you can change out of your paper-thin hospital gown.

"I'll get the nurse," she speaks swiftly as she makes sure you're ok before running out of the room.

Surprisingly, you were discharged from the hospital effortlessly, with nothing but a smaller bandage and a prescription for more painkillers in your possession as you walked out the doors. When you were finally reunited with the others, Sam and Mindy pulled you into bone-crushing hugs, having not seen you since you passed out.

"Thank god you're ok!" Sam said as she pulled away with a relieved smile. You returned the smile before looking over her shoulder, your gaze landing on a large Ghostface mural painted on one of the walls that lined the alleyway that apparently led to Ghostface's 'base'.

"Apparently, they used fake names to rent this place," Gale said as she went past you, Kirby close behind her, arguing about how she had managed to find the place. Your feet remained in place, your gaze fixed on the imposing tribute that towered over you.

"Y/n?" Your attention was drawn to your girlfriend, who was staring back at you expectantly as the rest of the party entered the building further ahead of her. "Coming, sorry.". Tara looked at you amusedly as you walked towards her as quickly as your slightly dazed state allowed.

As Gale pulled open the bulky metal doors and led you into the building, you were confronted with a dark and dusty stairway leading up to some type of cage. "Well, isn't this lovely." You joked, hesitantly following the others up the decrepit steps behind Tara, your collective slow and heavy breaths reverberating around the dark unknown beyond the rusted bars.

The loud beep and rattle of the old cell-like door being swung open rings in your ears as you slowly walk further into the building, purposely staying close to Tara's side. "What is this place? What's with all the security?" Sam asked as Gale moved towards a power board, flicking a switch that lit up the entire vast space, the sudden brightness stinging your fragile eye.

As your sight adjusts and scans the area around you, your impaired gaze travels across a giant, worn-white screen dangling from the crumbling ceiling. Your and Tara's like-mindedness becomes apparent, with the two of you appearing to reach the same conclusion after a brief silence. "It's a movie theatre."

"It's not just a theatre. It's a shrine."

The dingy screen slowly ascends, revealing a scene straight out of your nightmares. Nine Ghostfaces lined the stage, a horrifying cloning of a costume you constantly begged to never see again. With a shiver running its course through your body, you took cautious steps forward, dragging your feet underneath you before you came to a halt.

Instead of the rows of chairs you and Tara had become accustomed to in a movie theatre throughout your frequent visits, displays and artifacts from past massacres covered the floor, causing the colour to drain from your face.

As you walked further into the shrine, your eyes examining each and every item, admittedly fascinated by it all, Tara followed and watched you from a small distance. She watched as your posture went rigid as your gaze landed on a particular glass case.

A section entirely dedicated to Dewey.

Your eye brimmed with tears as you scanned over the items. Photos of the man you once trusted and loved stared back at you. The same man who was the sole reason you had made it to this very moment. Your tears finally fell as your focus shifted to a drawing that was displayed front and centre.

The cautious footsteps approaching you from behind didn't faze you as your blurry vision drank in the gruesome illustration of Dewey's corpse, an image that had remained up to your imagination until now.

Until now, you had avoided thinking about anything to do with that night. Whenever his name was mentioned, you immediately changed the subject, refusing to give your mind the freedom to relive and picture what happened.

You were constantly trying to distract yourself, desperate to move on with your life as if nothing ever happened.

Someone's gentle touch on your arm startled you, your clouded vision finally leaving the memorial and landing on your worried girlfriend. Her soft gaze met yours as her thumb traced circles on your exposed skin, sending a warmer shiver down your spine.

She briefly glanced over her shoulder before she slid her hand into yours, gently pulling you away from the collection and into a separate room. An abandoned confectionary stand stood at one end of the room, the wall opposite it decorated with posters from all the previous stab movies.

Tara stops you in the middle of the room, finally turning around to look at you, her eyes filled with guilt. Your heart beats faster in your chest as she remains silent, her tongue nervously running along her dry lips as she gathers the strength to speak.

"I was wrong." she starts, your eye slightly widening in surprise - you were expecting something much worse than an apology. You could feel her hand sweating in yours, her nerves growing glaringly obvious.

"I took all my anger out on you, and I'm so, so sorry, y/n.". Your gaze softened as you watched her small form shake with nerves, her bottom lip beginning to tremble as she took a steadying breath.

"I just want to be a normal person again... I don't want to be a part of this... I don't want you to be a part of this.". You quickly realised where she was going with this. Much like Sam, she felt incredible guilt over pulling you and all the others into the 'franchise', both of the girls blaming themselves for everything your group had gone through over the past year.

No matter many times you had told her it wasn't her fault, that she shouldn't be blaming herself for the actions of film-obsessed psychos, she never listened.

"Everything shitty that has happened to you has been my fault. Mine!... If it weren't for me being a stupid fucking legacy and dragging you into this, you would be happy, living safely in Woodsboro.". Her words were sharp, yet her anger was purely directed at herself. She knew, whether you would admit it or not, that your life would have been better without her. No scars, no trauma, no Ghostface.

"For fuck sake, you'd still be able to see from both your eyes!". You gently bit your bottom lip as you averted your gaze away from your crying girlfriend. Did she have a point? Sure.

You wouldn't be here if you had never talked to her or fallen head over heels for her. That was a fact. You would live alone in your old filthy trailer while your parents' location remained unknown, wasting the rest of your days working as a newspaper delivery kid on your rusted bike. Ghostface would still exist, but he wouldn't touch you.

You would be living peacefully.

Happily though?

Living in Woodsboro, a town known for psychotic murderers who dressed up in Halloween costumes, there was absolutely nothing there that filled you with an ounce of happiness.

Until you met Tara.

If you had learnt anything over the past several months, Tara was your happiness - as cheesy as that was to say. So, while you could be back in your cramped trailer drowning in debt with two eyes and no PTSD, you would unquestionably choose to be standing here with Tara in New York with half your vision.

That said, you return your gaze to the girl in front of you, her face painted red as tears creep down her delicate cheeks as you step closer. You give her a thankful smile before slipping your hands around her shoulders, pulling her into a warm hug. You bury your face gently into her shoulder, inhaling her scent as she wraps her arms tightly around your waist.

Despite standing in a building filled with Ghostface memorabilia, you had never felt safer as you closed your eye and drank in her warm presence. The two of you swayed gently, breathing in sync as you melted into each other.

Your bliss is broken when the door from the shrine is swung open, causing the two of your heads to snap towards the sound. Detective Bailey, Gale, and Sam walk through the door, their faces all painted with determination as they approach the two of you.

"I think I might have an idea about how to turn the tables on this creep."

Walking through a park in the middle of the day wasn't what you had first imagined when you were told about their plan to capture Ghostface, yet here you were. The plan was simple.

Step 1: You, Tara, and Sam would walk around the park nonchalantly and await a call from Ghostface.

Step 2: Kirby, who was bunked up with Mindy, Chad, and Ethan in a van parked just outside the park, would track the call and locate its precise location, thus locating Ghostface.

Step 3: Along with Detective Bailey, you take the fucker down.

In theory, it was flawless. In practice... not so much.

As you walked through the busy park, your hand tightly interlocked with Tara's, your head whirled around, glancing over your shoulder every other second. Sam was just in front of the two of you on comms with Kirby and Bailey as they ran through the plan for the hundredth time.

Your stare shifted from stranger to stranger as you walked along the walkway that ran around the enormous pond in the centre of the park, some of whom were dressed in costumes. "Why the fuck are so many people wearing costumes?" you asked Tara, bending down and whispering in her ear. "It's creepy even if we weren't being stalked by a psycho."

Tara's reply was cut short by Sam's phone ringing, her gaze shifting to the two of you as she took her phone from her back pocket. 'Maybe: Richie Kirsch' was displayed on the screen, a disturbingly normal contact photo accompanying it.

Tara inched closer to you as you all stopped in your tracks. Your gaze darted around, checking each and every corner you could as Sam pulled the phone to her ear.

"Your gonna die, you know?" she spoke confidently. "No, you're gonna die, Samantha!." you heard faintly, the familiar chilling voice causing your jaw to clench instinctively. "Choking on your own blood whilst I hack up your sister!" he spoke menacingly.

Your girlfriend's hand was still in yours as you cast an anxious glance down at her. She shifted slightly as she cast a troubled glance up at you, her once delicate grip on your hand growing tighter as the conversation dragged on.

"Unless we find you first." "For a mastermind, you're not very bright. Waiting for me to call, desperately hoping I'm nearby so the police can grab me?". He was mocking you. Sam's face paled as her eyes desperately searched the area around her, still holding onto hope that he was lying, that he was meddling with you in hopes of killing one of you.

"But I'm not nearby. I'm a step ahead... Be seeing you, Samantha.". Your stomachs all collectively dropped as he hung up the phone. Sam stared blankly at the screen for a moment whilst you and Tara stood shoulder to shoulder with matching worried gazes.

"Did you get it?". Sam finally spoke, her determination eventually overcoming her surprise. "Yep, geolocation coming through right now.". You drew comforting circles on the back of Tara's knuckles as you waited in tense silence for Kirby to track the location, your heart stumbling over its own rhythm.

"He's on the upper west side. He's inside an apartment building halfway across the city.". Whilst a slight bit of you was relieved that he wasn't directly behind you, a sickening wave of terror simultaneously erupted in your gut.

"On West 96th?". Your fear worsened at Tara's words. You admittedly knew very little about New York, preferring to stay in or around your apartment and college campus, but if you knew anything, it was who lived on West 96th. "How did you know that?" Kirby's voice rang through the comms.

"Gale."

In the blink of an eye, you are all hectically running towards Bailey's vehicle with him just behind you. You were hot on Tara's tail as your mind struggled to comprehend how Ghostface had outsmarted you. How did he know your plan? How did he know that you had stupidly left Gale unprotected? It made no sense to you.

"Sam, wait! Take a minute!" Bailey called after you, slowing your quick steps as you all turned around angrily. "We don't have a minute!" Sam retaliated, your stare throwing daggers at Bailey, his audacity to try and stop you from leaving and possibly saving Gale causing your body to burn in anger.

"Sam, you have to trust me." you scoffed at his words, looking at him incredulously at his attempt to play the trust card. There were only a few people you trusted, and he certainly wasn't one of them.

You were so preoccupied with your scepticism that you didn't notice Tara leave your side. Tara's shout of your names, accompanied by a blaring car horn, prompts you and Sam to turn around, where you see Tara seated in the driver's seat of Bailey's cop car.

"Get in."

With the sirens blasting whilst Tara weaves in and out of traffic, you are sat in the back seat, drumming your fingers frantically on your knee as you watch other cars zoom past in a blur. Sam's conversation with 911 was drowned out by your irregular heartbeat, your anxiety worsening as you closed in on Gale's apartment.

As your destination drew closer, your gaze briefly met Tara's through the rearview mirror. Your lips quirked upwards slightly as her eyes returned to the road, turning the car onto West 96th. The sun had fallen behind the tall buildings that lined the street, leaving the road drowned in shadows as Tara finally slowed the car to a halt.

As the three of you dashed inside and towards the elevator, the second you stepped inside, your body became rigid as the colour drained from your face. Vivid memories of a night that was all too familiar to what was happening right now flashed before your eyes.

The desperate car drive. The frantic running towards the elevator. The groaning of the elevator as it tediously climbed.

As the thick metal doors closed, a knot constricted your throat, making breathing difficult as your breaths became thin and ragged. You sucked in a ragged deep breath, attempting to conceal your panic from the others.

Your pleading gaze eventually landed on your girlfriend, who stood beside you. Shifting your focus to her empty hand, you wasted no time in grasping it in yours, your grip strong yet gentle as you held onto her desperately.

Tara casts you a worried glance as she notices your tense stance and sweaty palms, hoping your gaze will fall on hers. Your jaw was clamped shut as you kept your sight locked on the elevator door, taking long and deep breaths as you let Tara's touch ground you, the feeling of her hand in yours causing warmth to flood through your previously frozen figure.

As the floor numbers tick by and Gale's penthouse approaches, she gives your hand one last reassuring squeeze before the elevator dings. As the doors open, you let go of each other's hands as you bolt out, turning to your left to be greeted by Ghostface, holding his knife inches away from Gale's face.

"Hey, Fuckface!" Sam shouts, capturing the killer's attention as she picks up a discarded pistol off the ground and fires at them. Missing all her shots in a panic, Sam attempts to chase after them as they run away. The sound of the stair doors slamming shut and retreating footsteps ring out through the now quiet apartment as your focus shifts to a wounded Gale.

"Gale." you spoke in a suffocated whisper, Tara hot on your tail as you ran towards her. As you fell to your knees next to her, your eye grew impossibly wide at the sight of blood pouring rapidly out of her stomach, an all-too-familiar crimson colour staining her clothes.

Placing your shaking hands on top of her stab wound in an attempt to slow the never-ending stream of blood, she groans in pain as her eyes squeeze shut weakly. "Sorry." you whisper breathlessly, a thick haze clouding your rational mind as your thoughts become erratic.

"He didn't get me.". Her pained words hit you like a truck. Sam had made her way onto her knees next to you as Gale's eyes drooped. Sam tried to beckon her awake with broken pleas, tears falling down her cheeks as her heart sunk with guilt.

Her eyelids twitched as Gale managed to open her eyes marginally one last time. The hair on the back of your next stood up straight as her tired gaze met yours, the tiniest of smiles creeping its way onto her lips.

"I'll tell Dewey you said hi."

Your heart stopped as you were hit with a sudden wave of nausea. The pressure you were applying to her torso weakened as your eyes flooded with tears, transfixed with horror as you were unable to look away no matter how much you tried.

You only heard the distant sound of sirens once paramedics rushed into the penthouse. You stood abruptly and backed away from everyone, seemingly terrified of being touched. Your lips trembled violently as your blurred stare never left Gale's unconscious body.

Hot tears cascaded down your face, several of which soaked through the bandage that had managed to withhold the tears from your wounded eye until now. Your body shook violently as you tried to contain your sobs by slapping your hand over your mouth.

The mention of Dewey's name always affected you. You'd always felt the usual burn of tears and constriction of your throat, but this time was different. This time completely broke you.

At the sound of your stifled sobs, Tara's focus shifted from her distraught sister to you. Her heart broke when she saw your defeated figure. As she slowly approached you, It was hard to see past the tears clouding your eyes which remained frozen on Gale.

Your attention was forced to shift when your girlfriend placed herself directly in front of you, forcing you to gaze at her brokenly. She watches as your sobs begin to spill past your wet lips, weakness finally taking over you as you collapse to your knees.

Tara quickly followed you to the floor, wrapping you in her arms as she cradled your head against her chest, your tears soaking through her shirt.

No matter how much you cried or how much Tara tried to comfort you, the ache in your chest would not relent. It burned without end as though to remind you of your loss, the loss you had so desperately avoided thinking about until it now came uncontrollably pouring out of you.

All the pain and grief you had been running away from finally caught up to you, sinking its teeth in deep, wounding you unlike you had ever been wounded before.

Your chest felt hollow. Your mouth was open, loosely hanging in an empty expression of despair as you finally pulled away from your girlfriend's comforting hold. Her eyes scanned your drained expression, a few stray tears escaping and trickling down your reddened face.

Your bandage was completely saturated with tears, making it feel heavy on your face. Tara noticed your discomfort and slowly raised her hands up to your face, lingering around the top of your bandage. "Do you want me to-" "Please."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and gently touched the edge of your bandage. Her icy fingers on your burning face sent shivers down your spine. You began to panic as she began to take your soaked dressing off, not knowing what awaited Tara underneath.

She slowly pulled the wet gauze off of your delicate skin, eventually revealing your healing scar. Her gaze was drawn to a wide, dull pink scar that extended from your jaw to your brow bone, with rich purples and blues running the borders where your remaining stitches could be seen.

Her attention was drawn to the twitching of your left eye, which glistened with the remnants of tears. She watched as you slowly opened your eye for the first time. Despite being warned about what would happen to your eye, she couldn't help but be taken aback when your piercing e/c iris was replaced with a pale white that stretched the full length of your eye.

The faint smile that had been building on your lips collapsed, your head dropping in an attempt to avoid her sight, as you suddenly felt extremely vulnerable. You obviously didn't know what you looked like, but if the dull ache that constantly ran up the length of your face indicated anything, it wasn't going to be pretty.

"Y/n, hey. Look at me." Your girlfriend's sweet voice lifted your head back up, the sadness that lingered in your eyes slowly dissolving as she looked at you with a compassionate smile, her cheeks dimpled subtly. "You look beautiful." She spoke softly yet firmly, her hands moving up to cup your face lovingly while avoiding your tender scar.

"You're just saying that." You shook your head gently, her words failing to convince you that you look anything other than hideous. Tara was easily the most gorgeous person you had ever laid eyes on, and the fact that she somehow liked you back in the first place never ceased to amaze you.

Now you were convinced it was just illogical.

"Let me prove it then."

Despite the new scar on your face, whilst it served as a cruel reminder of the night that you were almost taken from her, Tara only sees the person that had thrown their life away for her. The person who had saved her life numerous times, and would willingly do it again even if it meant losing themselves.

She only saw the person she had fallen head over heels in love with.

Tara drew you closer as she wrapped her arms around your neck, gently connecting your lips as hers softened against yours. She was careful not to hurt you with her kiss at first, her lips moving tenderly against yours in a manner that spreads warmth throughout your chest like an open flame.

You felt yourself relax as her fingers traced comforting patterns on the back of your neck as you kissed, letting go of the self-consciousness that had been gnawing at you since she carefully removed your bandage. Tara's lips soothed all of your pain and insecurities like a balm.

It was a long kiss, full of emotions that were too complex to put into words. It was a kiss that told you that Tara was there for you, that she loved you no matter what, and that, unlike everyone else in your life, she would never leave you.

And that was exactly what you needed.

As your lips finally parted from each other, you were both breathless and flushed as you felt a sense of calm wash over you, accompanied by a sense of acceptance that you hadn't felt in a long time.

With her bottom lip giddily caught between her teeth, Tara grabbed your hand and helped you to your feet. Her hand remained in yours as she walked with you to the elevator, where Sam was waiting, with a faint smirk on her lips as she watched your interaction.

"The others are on their way. They're meeting us downstairs."

"I'm scared, you guys." Mindy broke the silence that had settled around the group of you sitting in the policed-filled lobby of Gale's apartment building. In the corner of a small couch you shared with Mindy, you were cuddled up close to Tara, her scent and warmth being the only thing bringing you comfort. When the others arrived, you sank back into the couch, aware that everyone's eyes scrutinised and judged your new, unusual appearance.

"So what do we do now?" It was a good question. Running from Ghostface was always the same, no matter how hard you tried. He would always find you, no matter where you went or how far you went, and either traumatise or kill you.

"Maybe he gets to win this time.". Your head snapped towards Sam as she stood up from her chair. You all stared at her, eyes wide in disbelief. "He wants to punish me. Me! So maybe I let him. I'll just give myself up. If this is what I have to do to keep you safe, it's worth it."

Sam spoke boldly but brokenly, tears streaming down her face. Tara swiftly stood up as soon as Sam stopped talking, her absence forcing you to shift uncomfortably at the lack of warmth and sudden exposure to the others.

"No, we're not doing that, Sam, alright? You went back to Woodsboro to protect me. Every single day you make the decision to protect me. None of us would even be alive if it weren't for you. You have to let us protect you this time."

If you hadn't already drained yourself of tears, you were certain you would have shed a few at Tara's words. The warmth and the passion behind them cause your heart to swell in your chest, filling you with a sense of pride that you get to call Tara your girlfriend.

"We're a team, remember." "Actually, we're family." "Let's go! Core four!". The four of them were now standing up whilst you remained on the couch, your knees help up to your chest as you watched them with a clenched jaw.

You'd accepted the fact you weren't in the 'core four', but that didn't mean it still didn't hurt.

You watched with a distant stare as they all put their hands in, an apparent 'tradition' that Danny tried to get in on but was quickly ushered away by Chad. Surprisingly, Tara glanced back at you, sending you a small sympathetic smile in an attempt to cheer you up. When she saw it failed, she reached her spare hand out behind her, beckoning you to hold it.

Your eyes looked at her hand, surprised for a moment, before slipping your fingers in between hers. She gave your hand a soft squeeze as you stood up and situated yourself behind her, almost using her as a makeshift shield.

"He's gonna keep coming after us." Sam warned as the four of their hands dropped, yours remaining in Tara's other hand. "Isn't there somewhere safe we can just haul up in?" Ethan chimes in, clueless as usual. "He's just gonna keep finding us."

You watched as the cogs turned in Tara's mind before her head spun around to face you. "We could use that though.". As her eyes met yours, you were hit with the same epiphany. Her soft hand lefts yours as she searches for her phone in her pockets, eventually pulling it out and calling Detective Bailey.

As the phone rang through the speaker, the questioning eyes of the others looked between you and your girlfriend, curious as to what you had both telepathically figured out. When he finally answered the phone, Tara was quick to propose your plan.

"We want to lure him to a secure location and trap him inside." "And then what?" "We execute him.". Although you were hesitant about involving the detective after his somewhat suspicious actions earlier in the day, unfortunately, without his help, your plan could never work.

"Are you gonna help us?". There's a moment of silence on the other end of the phone. You all look at each other expectantly as you all desperately await an answer, this plan being the only thing that could logically work at this point in time.

"Let's kill this son of a bitch."

There is a collective sigh of relief as he explains how the rest of the night should pan out. "I'll tell Kirby to meet you there, and I'll join you as soon as I can.". As the realisation that 'act three' is closing in on you hits, your pulse roars in your throat as you try to mentally prepare yourself for the torture that lies ahead.

"Remember, travel in public. The more people around you, the less chance he has to take a shot at you before you get there.". That definitely didn't aid in calming down your nerves, the idea of travelling through the packed New York City on public transport causing a knot to form in the pit of your stomach.

"The subway it is."

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