A/N: This is a mix of Esmerelda's universe, characters from Spider-man's and Miguel's universe, all set in the 1950s for fun! Just silly stuff featuring our favorite web-heads :)

Enjoy!
~~~~~~~

With a pop of air Esmerelda unfolded her newspaper, humming to herself to the jukebox across the diner. Forks clattered against plates as children squabbled over their pancakes a table behind her, a mother's voice scolding them.

Three weeks after and the paper was still talking about the huge new years bash the Osborne's held. It wasn't like they didn't do it every year, 1956 being no different. It was no surprise that the articles only ever seemed to highlight the wonderful "atmosphere" and "delightful entertainment" and nothing about the scandals that occurred. Or the horrors.

"Look at this Sophia, no mention of how Tania was found teasing Eddie before she got her teeth knocked out." Esme slid the paper across the counter, rolling her eyes. "Guess money can solve everything."

Sophia scoffed. "That's Edith for ya. Following the American way and solving things with violence. I can't blame her, Tina was just asking for a knuckle sandwich."

"I bet your brother loved the show though."

Sophia laughed, brushing her auburn hair that seemed to glisten red in the rays. Esme's eyes landed back on the paper in her hands, the black ink painting the shape of the Osborne's perfect home. She didn't know what she expected. Of course the papers neglected what really happened that night.

Esme could see the laughter slowly drain from Sophia's eyes once they fixated on that house. She smiled, but Esme knew.

There was another headline, reporting the death of two students- it was worthy of taking the attention away from Sophia's family affairs, but before she could point it out she heard the air change behind them, door ringing. A waitresses voice greeted from somewhere, but the rambunctious chatter overpowered her words.

Esme turned around to see a group of boys that looked more like a pack of animals crowd the door. Hair combed back, red varsity jacket and a set of blue eyes that immediately laid on her.

"Esmerelda Costello and Sophia Osborne. Whata surprise."

"Ya act like you haven't noticed us here for like, the past three summers, Flash." Sophia rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, no offense Soph, but neither of you were exactly a looker those past few times. Now however..." he whistled, his friends laughing and shoving each other in unison.

"Gee Flash, you really know how to flatter a gal. It's a wonder why you're still single." Esme lifted her voice, Sophia covering her lips quickly not to giggle.

"Gracias, Esme." Flash smiled proudly.

It took all her strength not to face palm.
Interaction forgotten, the gang walked towards their usual booth in the corner, taking their orders with the waitress before they resumed their usual banter.

"Any word from Gavin?" A hot mug was sat in front of Sophia as she spoke, the scent of chocolate wafting in streams.

"No..." Esme sighed, placing her head in her hand. Her heart skipped a beat. "H-he's just super busy, probably. All that internship stuff and all."

Sophia smirked. Esme didn't let her catch sight of her face. "Ya didn't play back seat bingo with him, did ya?"

Esme blushed. "No! 'course not! And have him think I'm a fast woman? It'd be no wonder he'd run for the hills. Gavin is the ginchiest, I'd never chase him away like that."

Sophia giggled. "You'd think you're already circled the way you blush about him."

Esme smiled slightly, her voice softening as a far off look took over her. "Not circled, but I wouldn't mind being jacketed." Esme's eyes flicked towards the window as a car pulled up. She felt her chest tighten.

"Boy, speaking of someone who'll never get either, here comes our friendly neighborhood bird dog." Sophia crossed her arms.

A tall boy with slick back brown hair approached with a chestnut gaze that circled around to the door. His hand held up a chesterfield pack, the face of some actor staring back as Esme watched him take one out and place it to his lips. Her eyes lingered on his pursed lips as he held it, placing the lighter just below and flicking it with a click. His eyes lazily glanced towards her.

She broke away and pretended to look around before looking at Sophia. "I can't believe Miguel has the nerve to show his face around here. He knows Xina works here, how could he be so casual about everything?"

Sophia shrugged, taking a sip from her mug. "Who knows, rumor is he's tight with Xina again. Dana and him have been going steady for a month, I guess all is forgiven between them."

Esme furrowed her brows again. "Still, please wake me up if you ever catch me trusting a two-timer like-"

The door opened and she cut off. Just her luck, whoever she hears behind her has soft soled shoes or wasn't touching the floor at all. But his presence is loud and confident without a single word being said. The diner just quiets for an awful long pause, eyes burning the ground behind her.

And like a fleeting whisper, it all returns to normal and she hears Flash and his friends burst in laughter once again.

Esme turns to Sophia to make an effort to ease the tension, but she feels a weight slide into the stool beside her, like a giant billboard begging for attention. She wants to ignore his taunt, but the deep voice intrudes her thoughts anyway.

"Hey Sophia... Esme."

She turns and forces a smile. Sophia beats her to the greeting. "Hey Miguel."

His eyes are still chestnut and not a deep red, to her surprise. After the new years bash she would have thought he was a vampire. His eyes flicker to her tense palms, the fingers digging into her skirt. She knows. He knows she knows.

All the concealed fear she had attempted to keep from Sophia was suddenly rising up. She knew why Gavin was missing. And she didn't hate Miguel just because he had cheated on Xina with Dana. She hated him because his sins ran deeper than affairs.

"O'Hara." She stated his name, but her tongue used it like a curse.

"Why the formalities? Aren't we friends?" He grinned an upturn smirk, briefly revealing the white canine much too sharp to be normal. It was too brief, purposefully long enough for her to see but for no one else.

"Sure. I use the term loosely though." She turned her palm, letting her hand wander to the band on her wrist.

Sophia tensed, eyes darting between the two, but unsure what to say. The topic of Miguel always seemed to bother Esme, but never this much since the new years bash. Did something happen then?

"You two good?" She looked more at Miguel pointedly.

"I think me and Esme need to talk." He murmured softly.

Esme stood up. "Yeah, I think we do."

Sophia lifted a hand but met cold air as she watched the girl she used to dance ballet with, play in the sprinklers and ding-dong-ditch houses with, slowly leave her alone at the diner bar.

Outside, the pinkish light cast Esmerelda's dark hair magenta, her eyes golden as she glanced across her shoulder.

Miguel followed suit, escorting her further out into the parking lot, but still within view.

As soon as they were far enough away Esmerelda clenched her fists. "Tell me what's going on O'Hara. Right now."

"What do you mean? Is this about Gavin?"

She inhaled but couldn't bring herself to expunge the bombardment of thoughts that crowded her.

Miguel simply chuckled, glancing at her hands. "He's fine, just so y'know."

"But the blood I saw on your hands, the mask-"

"If you thought I did something, you would have called the cops weeks ago." He frowned. "Unless you're scared to be called a liar?"

Esmerelda turned red. "Don't you dare use that against me, you cad! I know what I saw! You did something to him that night, didn't you? Where is Gavin? Why has he been avoiding me? Not showing up to school, missing band meets-"

"Relax preciosa," he placed his hand on her shoulder only for it to jerk away. He sighed, tucking his hand back in his jacket. "Gavin is... occupied right now. I'm working on it. I just need you to promise me you won't repeat what you saw that night to anyone else."

Her gaze hardened, brows knitted. "Promise you? Only if you tell me what's going on. Last chance O'Hara, or I'll walk into that diner and tell everyone what a freak you really are."

"Try it." Miguel stepped forward, looking over her with his eyes mirroring the sky. There was that tug of his upper lip again, that twisting feeling in her gut as she caught sight of his sharp, prominent fang. "Believe me Costello, your best interest is listening to me."

Her eyes glanced back towards the diner, Sophia's shadow just made out in the window. If she showed her cards now, she might not be able to use them later.

She looked back at him, jaw unclenching. "Okay Duke of limbs. Fine." She stepped closer. "I'll keep my mouth shut. What are your next orders, sire? To lay down and let ya stomp all over me? Let ya tear out my beating heart?"

His nostrils flared, eyes narrowing as their faces neared too close.

"Very funny. Gavin ran away. Simple as that. The blood you saw was someone else's. So, keep your mouth shut, and things will work out eventually."

Esme bit her cheek. She was certain what she saw at the New Years bash wasn't her imagination. She saw Miguel, clear as day with his crimson hands touched by silver, the torn mask hanging on the tip of his fingers. He was standing by a turn to the Osborne's hedge maze. Gavin had promised to meet her there.

There was a trail of blood in the snow, drag marks led further down the path. His shoulders rose and fell quickly, mist blown from his lips.

The mask in his hand was unmistakable. The dark blue and red fabric printed with the same pattern she had seen in the papers. The killer that had already claimed the lives of Ned Leeds and Elizabeth Allan.

He was the Salem County Slasher.

She found another way through the maze after that, scouring every path and taking turns until she found herself in a clearing. Snow was beginning to fall again, flakes accumulating on her shoulders. There was loud booms in the distance, her head snapping upwards as white and blue bloomed across the sky.

She looked down, purple powdered across baby blue ground. The light slowly ebbed away, enough for the colors to slowly turn back to white and pink. More blood.

She took a step forward, her eyes landing on a bundle beginning to disappear beneath the snow. Her hand reached for the sleeve, moving it just enough to reveal it.

It was blue. A dove badge on the shoulder, stars and red stripes sown down the sleeve. Gavin's jacket. Torn across the chest.

Her knees touched the ground first. Then her hands. Like so many times before in prayer, her eyes cast to the heavens. But unlike so many times, her eyes were downcast in a curse upon whoever had done this.

A hand touched her shoulder, bringing her to the present. Before she could really think, her hand flew and collided with a loud slap, Miguel's cheek turned with his eyes wide.

She stepped back, retreating into herself. What had she done?

Slowly, he looked back at her. She braced for impact- waited for that killer smile and the hands that would lurch for her throat- but he merely just, stared at her.

And then she bolted for her car. Sophia had taken her own, it was a straight shot from here to Esme's house just outside town, she'd be safe to cool down there. She just needed to get away- talk to someone outside of this psycho who refused to leave her alone. She'd managed to avoid him the rest of winter break but with school back and him discovering her spot at the diner, she was running out of space to hide in.

Even if she couldn't tell anyone, she could still try to talk to her tía. Speak to her and find some courage. Or her tío. Yes, he'd protect her. She thought he carried a gun somewhere too in the house- perhaps she could use that.

The engine of her tío's Chevy roared to life and she didn't spare a glance at the towering figure still standing where she left him. When she looked in her rear view mirror, she could see a whisp of smoke blown from his lips.

Was going to her house a good idea though? She didn't want to drag her family into this with her problems. Going to Sophia's was out of the question. Maybe she could hide out at the town market?

Before she knew it, she was driving an unfamiliar road and slowed down to a fork. It felt like she faintly knew it, but couldn't recall where she was. There was three paths. Which one led back to her house?

~~~ 🔪 🛞 🔪 ~~~

Esme took the left road, her hands compelled by a reasoning in her head. She wasn't sure how she ended up at this point but her chest tightened at the thought of turning back.

After fifteen minutes more of driving the road turned downhill and she reached what looked like her street. Relief flooded her senses and she pulled the car up into the driveway.

The trees swayed around her, a thunk of snow landing on the hood. She groaned, glaring up at the tree branch that had given up the weight. From behind it's thick coursing branches, the sky was a greyish blue splattered with watercolors and white dazzling diamonds. When she looked back down, her tía was at the door, waving at her. She was beautiful in the yellow string lights adorning their porch. Twinkling on and off like pixies with their dust.

She was home. Like the sun parting the clouds, all her dread from before slipped away and replaced it with warmth. "Hola tía! Sorry that I came home late!"

The stone path up to their door was clean from snow, a shovel laying near the steps. She hugged her tía and exchanged a quick peck to her cheek, smiling as she did.

"It's no problem Esmita. Debes tener frío, is this what you wore all day?" She clicked her tongue and tugged at the tweed jacket she wore with her matching jumper dress. Esme rolled her eyes and tried to soften her burning smile.

"Sí, leave it alone. I'm home now and I was perfectly warm, don't worry." She walked inside, noting her tía looked rather dressed up now that she could pay attention.

Her tío walked down the stairs, spotting Esme and smiling.

"Just in time, your tía and I were heading out to the cinema. It's our last starry night before we're hit by another snow storm." He beamed ear to ear but her heart clenched. She was going to be alone tonight?

She wanted to plead with them to stay, but the expressions on their faces wasn't one she wanted to break even delicately.

"That sounds fun." Esme felt her gut twisting. She wanted to vomit.

" ¿Ay que pasó? You look pale! Are you feeling okay?"

Esme lifted her hands, "I'm fine I'm fine, don't worry about me."

Her tío crossed his arms. "Now that you mention it, she does look a little pale. Maybe we should stay home tonight-"

"Geez, I'm not a little kid guys! I'm fine, seriously. Go have fun tonight!" She ushered them towards the door. "No way am I letting you guys get all dressed up for nothin'. I'll make some canned soup, watch something on the tele, and go to sleep while you're gone!"

Her tío chuckled, opening the door. Tía Maria wasn't so convinced. "Are you sure Esme? It's not the end of the world if we stay-"

"I'm certain, like you said it's probably the last night before the storm, don't want you to miss it!"

She walked them out to the car, shooing them off even after her aunt needed more reassurance. Once they were gone, Esme held to her word and made some soup for herself.

She stirred the pot and watched its contents swirl around. She tried to use the spoon to guide her feelings along- to figure out what was real and what wasn't. The way Miguel reacted confirmed her suspicions he was definitely responsible for Gavin's disappearance- but the why and how was something she was still unsure of.

Gavin wasn't a weak boy. Though he was an artist, he was fit and once played as the school's quarterback, before he quit mysteriously last year. While Miguel was certainly rough around the edges and tall, Esme wasn't sure how he could have overpowered Gavin. Maybe his unnatural smile was all she needed for a guess. There was something inhuman about Miguel, and she shivered at just the thought.

Vegetable slices bobbed in the broth, slowly circling. She stared, her stomach dipping. She should be scared. But she felt frozen- confined to the honest truth. Esme confronted a murderer- someone who could kill her on sight, at any moment. And here she was, making soup.

She stepped back, placing her hands against the ache in her temples.

"Stay calm- it's not like he can kill you when everyone in the diner witnessed you two talking-" she giggled to herself.

Right. He wouldn't compromise himself like that. If he didn't care about being caught then he wouldn't be putting in so much of an effort to keep her quiet. He wouldn't have killed in secret. She was safe.

Esme served herself a bowl and walked into the living room, passing by the front door. It was quiet outside, flakes of snow resting against the window. She placed her bowl on the couch ottoman and walked over, drawing the curtains closed. A night in wasn't so bad. She just needed to take her mind off things. Clear her head and come up with a plan.

She heard a click and turned around. The screen to the tele was on, static at first- but then a show popped on. An unfamiliar one.

A man was speaking with a woman, his voice fuzzy.

"...Hello beautiful"
He cupped her face, his eyes soft.

"Hello handsome." She tilted her head. "Did you miss me?" His silent voice questioned.

Esme stepped forward. She felt drawn to watch- but she felt shivers roll up her spine. She looked around by habit. She didn't remember turning it, and televisions just didn't turn on like that either-

"Miserably." "Happy now?" "Ecstatically."

Esme froze as the woman's eyes met hers. The lights in the room flickered, something banged on the window. Esme's head snapped to see a massive shadow on the curtain, a loud tapping noise hitting it.

'It's just the wind, just a branch.' She told herself, backing away.

The television was static, voices quiet. The lights flickered again, then went completely dark. Esme held her breath, quietly walking towards the kitchen. Miguel's toothy smile flashed across her vision, and all she could think about was getting her hands on a weapon.

"Esme...."

The air in her lungs seemed to turn into piercing ice.

"Poor little Esme...." the voice said again, lifting ever slightly as if it was calling a gato.

She bolted for the kitchen and heard thundering steps behind her. She held back a strangled cry, turning the corner with the knives in clear view on the counter.

Step after step she envisioned her fingers wrapped around the hilt, her body moving faster than ever, everything around her a blur with only the knife in focus.

She was thrown out of momentum, something crashing into her side and feeling her back hit the island cabinet. Her eyes snapped open but a hand firmly pressed against her lips, quieting any protests.

"Mmph!?"

"Shhhhh," the chestnut eyes that met hers looked surprisingly calm- and even more surprisingly, they were familiar.

'MIGUEL?!'

Esme barely had time to process the dark locks, the tan skin and red shirt. His hand was warm and wet, smearing something across her lips. When he finally pulled away and tugged her to crawl she could see the red on his finger tips.

"We don't have time. Follow me," he looked over his shoulder, "and keep quiet. He's near."

"W-who is?" Her mouth quickly shut as he shot her a dark look, quieting her questions. Right, she had to keep quiet.

They crawled then stopped around the corner, his hand closing in on her wrist and pulling her against him. Her breath was shaky and she felt like every minuscule sound was a vinyl played on the loudest graphophone. The rustle of her clothes, her hair grazing the wood, even her heart felt magnified tenfold.

She could feel Miguel's scrutinizing eyes and begged herself to keep quiet, to keep still and bide whatever time she had left. What was she even hiding from? Would she know what caused her death?

"Esmeeereldaaaa~ Why are you hiding? Don't you miss Gavin?"

Miguel placed a hand on her lips before she could whimper. He tensed, shoulders slumped forward as he seemed to await something. When had he gotten so big? The voice was deep and only comparable to a low rumble- an echo of strangers and friends all in one. It left her head looped in a jumbled mess, trying to place the exact location of the words and why they felt like nostalgia and apprehension combined.

"Esmita, I can smell you. I know you're here... I know you aren't alone."

The thunder in her throat finally ceased, everything going quiet. It was like the brief pause, that break before the ocean comes crashing.

The kitchen island was split in half before her mind could even register her feet landing across the room. Wood and marble flew through the air in a cacophony of rubble. A tall, hulking black thing withdrew it's hand- if she could even call it one- bringing it to its maw and licking a drop of blood from its elongated finger.

It's tongue was the only pop of color in his row of white teeth and abyssal skin. She felt her gut twisting as it's pink flesh wound around it's finger and groaned as the blood filled it's pallet.

She felt that wet touch again and looked to her side to see Miguel's hand on her wrist, crimson cascading down his shoulder and between his grip on her. When had his nails gotten so long?

"O'Hara. Another failed attempt to steal my meal from me?" The creature grinned, pulling himself to stand at a towering height. His head practically touched the ceiling as he stepped over the rubble.

"I won't fail. Not after the last one." She felt his hand tighten around her. Yet she didn't feel anything prick her skin.

"Does she even want to be saved by you?" Her eyes met its blank ones.

She couldn't look away, it was... mesmerizing.

"Esmerelda," her head was turned. "Don't look at his eyes. Look at me. Listen to my voice and do everything I tell you to."

She jolted and shook her head. His fingers withdrew from her chin.

"Don't listen to him, Esmerelda. You've lost someone dear to you- is there even a reason for you to continue this life without him?"

Miguel's eyes darkened but kept focused on Esme's. "Leave out the entrance. I broke down the door. My car is running- get in and wait for me ten seconds and if I'm not out- drive."

Esme nodded, his grip loosening as she heard the floorboards creak.

"Now!"

She didn't dare look back as she bolted for the hallway, hearing a loud crack and heavy thud. The house felt like it was shaking as she caught sight of what used to be her front door- the wall cracked at the hinges and having to jump over the splintered wood.

The wind bit her cheeks as she dashed down the steps to her driveway. True to his word, a thunderbird rumbled with his windows glinting at her in the moonlight.

A crash sounded behind her, she looked back to see glass shattered across the grass with Miguel and the black creature wrestling in the bushes. Her eyes shot back to the car, her hand reaching for the handle.

"AAAAAGH"

She turned to see the creature biting into Miguel's shoulder, it's inky skin dripping like tar as it's claws dug into Miguel's wrists and held him down.

Her muscles moved on her arm, door flung open, gear shift yanked and foot on the gas peddle. Her hands gripped the steering wheel, laying on the horn as she drove the car in reverse.

"HEY! ¡BABOSO!" She slammed the breaks, "COME AND GET ME INSTEAD!"

His jaw unclamped and snapped his neck to look at her, his expression darkening. Miguel's hand immediately slashed, leaving four deep gashes across its face. The creature screamed as Miguel kicked him off, sending him flying across the driveway.

What was that strength?! Where was his weapon- how did he do that?!

Miguel pelted for the car and practically tore the door open, sliding in. "Go! Go Esme!"

She slammed on the gas and took off as the acceleration roared in her ears. Miguel craned his neck to look behind them, a dark form clouding her rear view.

"Jesus, don't you know how to drive?!"

"It's your car! Im going as fast as I can!" She glanced back, the creature running on all fours and gaining on them.

"Eyes on the road!" Miguel snapped.

Tires screeched as she turned sharply, hissing underneath her breath as she felt them tilting. They evened out and went downhill, her heart thundering in her ears.

"What is it?! Why is it after us?!"

"That thing is venom- and it wants to eat you. The why is the same as any serial killer- because he simply can." He gripped her chair and looked back. "Keep driving, don't look back for anything. I'll protect you."

Her eyes widened. "If you're my hope of survival then I'm screwed."

"Language," Miguel snapped. She heard something rip and glanced to see his red shirt torn in half. She felt her face heat up. "Eyes on the road." He all but growled.

She pursed her lips and looked back, finding herself back at the fork in the road. This led right back to town- where she could get help!

Her heart fluttered with hope- before those wings were squashed by the hands that took the steering wheel, swinging it to the right and forcing her to drift the car around. Now they were facing the second street and going the opposite direction of town- she wanted to scream!

"What the hell Miguel?!" She would have stopped had her foot not been compelled by the gigantic roar behind them.

"You want to draw the predator to a herd of its favorite meal? No human can save you Esme. Just me." His hand slid from the wheel, but not without grazing her skin.

She felt that warmth again, glancing down to see his hand soaked in it.

"You're bleeding."

"Yeah, that happens." He rotated in his seat, leaning his head out the window. "Keep driving down this road at full speed for another mile. Turn right when I tell you to."

Her mouth felt too dry to respond so she simply pressed her foot til the gas was on the floor. This guy was loco, there was no way in hell he could fight that thing and survive-

Her eyes glanced in the mirror, Venom's hands clawing at the ground and leaving deep crevices where his fingers touched. If she could even call it fingers.

This thing was beyond any human comprehension- but Miguel knew what it was. Who it was. She had to trust him- even if the majority of her logic told her otherwise. If she lived past this, she wouldn't forget about Gavin.

"Turn right!"

She strained her arms as she lifted from the peddle and switched to brake, flicking the wheel. The front of the car dipped and she struggled to maintain her seating, her shoulder slamming into the side door. Her palms slick with sweat felt stuck in slow motion as she eased off the breaks and tried to keep control of the steering wheel, keeping hold as they slammed past bushes and landed on a dirt road.

Shaky and unsteady, she could feel rocks beneath the car, branches scratching the roof. Where now? This was his bright idea? Drive through the forest?

"Keep following the road, he's going to use the trees to try and cut us off." Miguel groaned, pressing his hands against the roof.

"W-what are you?" Her words caught in her throat as she watched his hands seemingly slice through the metal like butter, pushing it inwards with a groan before pulling himself through the opening.

"Miguel?!" She looked ahead and almost screamed as she saw a pillar of brown and green rushing straight for them.

Before she could say anything she felt the car rock and a hand grab her shoulder. She was lifted up within seconds and watched as the car shrunk below her, then crash into a tree. She clung tightly, not sure to what, and felt a hand wrap over her mouth and muffled her scream. The ground was so far away, branches wrapping around her with leaves filling her peripheral. She took shaking breaths before the hand removed itself, and only then did her panic subside enough to realize it had been Miguel holding her this time.

Wordless, he just gazed at her, searching for something. Stupidly she thought he was looking into her eyes, but from the way his gaze raked across her body she realized he was actually checking for wounds.

He then pulled her against him, her face growing hot as he held her, then felt her hair whip against her face and a roar of wind fill her ears. Esme closed her eyes, hands gripping the back of Miguel's shoulders. She didn't scream this time, much to her surprise. She could feel the fear still coiled in her stomach though, a well of horrified noises just waiting for her self control to falter.

After a moment she peaked open her eyes. Everything was almost pitch black save for the few slivers of light that bathed branches in blue tones. The silver beacon in the night was their only means of vision- one spiteful cloud and they would be blind. Esme tried not to think about it.

Miguel was somehow flying through these trees, carrying her with one arm. One arm. No, he wasn't flying- he was swinging? She craned her neck and saw exactly that- his hand recoiling as it gripped a red cord that didn't look like any rope she'd seen before. When he released he shot another line again, gripping it in his palm and holding both their weights while he swung out how legs, gaining momentum and releasing the cord once again.

She didn't know how much time had passed between events. How long it had been when she'd been attacked by that dark creature- how long she'd been driving for, or even how long he had been carrying her through the woods. It felt like only a few minutes but she knew from the way the light in the sky craned it had to have been longer.

She tightened her hands on his shoulders, and could have sworn she felt his arm tighten around her as well, ever so slightly. She closed her eyes. What would Gavin think of her?

She felt her stomach lurch to think she had been holding so tightly to the man she despised. Not only that- but she had saved him! Why had she done that? Just earlier she had been convinced he had been the one to kill Gavin, but now she was protecting him?

'But you also never thought an inhuman black creature would be chasing you' she quieted her mind. She had been wrong about that. Nothing made sense anymore- she couldn't rely on the information she had. The world she knew before didn't allow such creatures to exist even in your imagination- and yet here she was. She had to toss her ideas out the window and start from scratch.

Miguel had saved her. Perhaps it was out of competition with this other monster- that they both desired to kill her as meager prey. Or perhaps not, since Miguel had ample opportunity to kill her right now.

But, he didn't.

He held her with such care, arm cradling her tight enough to support her but not gripping her so tight that he was hurting her. She chewed her bottom lip before she opened her eyes, bracing the daunting sensation of wind slapping her face, and turned to look directly at Miguel. His eyes darted forward as soon as she did, so brief she almost wondered if he had been looking at her at all. But no, she swore she saw his chestnut eyes surveying her for just a split second.

She squeezed him ever so slightly. "Where are we going?" The words came out so quietly, her throat flaring in pain. When had it gotten so sore?

"I'm taking you to a house." He murmured, voice low. He was slower in his swings, sweat coating his brow now. She saw a drop slink down the bridge of his nose before falling.

"That's vague," she fought the urge to give more attitude, his tense brows solidifying her decision.

He didn't reply, instead the trees around them grew taller, their bodies descending. She watched the tight knit branches grow sparser, trunks widening before snow reached up to Miguel's knees.

Despite being on the ground, he didn't let go of her. He looked around. His eyes weren't red anymore- just a muted brown. She wasn't sure why that surprised her when red was the more unnatural sight, but brown just didn't seem to fit him now.

Finally satisfied with whatever reason he'd been looking around for, Miguel let Esme slip from his arms and stand on the forest floor. She shifted uncomfortably, her legs full of pins and needles. The snow was frigid cold, an icy sludge and not the fresh powder from weeks back. It instantly made her skirts wet, soaking through to her skin. She shivered and hugged herself, looking up at Miguel.

He began walking forward, though in the darkness it was hard to make out anything past a few trees in front of her. Miguel didn't seem disgruntled by the snow however, nor her hesitation, and walked on with a determined step. His limp didn't go unnoticed by Esme however. She caught up to him.

"Why did you save me?" She whispered, then almost tripped over something hard. A hand grabbed her arm, steadying her before helping her step over the object.
Probably a tree branch.

They kept walking, Miguel silent. Perhaps that was to be expected. He was after all, still someone she should fear. She didn't know what his intentions were. Any moment he could snap, turn on her, leave her dead in the snow-

"I promised Gavin."

Her head snapped up. "What?"

His face was calm, sincere. Not hateful or full of annoyance. His eyes gleamed. "Gavin loved you. At least, I think he did. I promised him you wouldn't die."

She felt her heart clench but didn't have time to mourn. The way Miguel worded things. Loved. Did. Promised she wouldn't die, not protect her. And she wouldn't die from what? His own hands? Or the monster's? Those questions seemed to burn for her to ask, but she couldn't possibly speak all of them at once. She had to pick only one of them.

"I need to know what happened. How did Gavin die?"

Quiet again. Their feet trudged through the snow, slow and agonizingly cold. Her body trembled, teeth chattering. She couldn't even see where they were til Miguel stepped up onto and gripped a railing, wood creaking. He looked back at her, eyes cold. The gleam was still there, but they were hardened somehow. Emotionless.

Her breath hitched in her throat but she walked forward, the pain in her legs overpowering her fear. Esmerelda walked up with him onto the porch, then stopped by a shabby door. The walls on each side were wood, a log cabin by the looks of it. The windows were pitch black and the lock on the door looked newer than the wood itself. Miguel drew a hand from his pocket and fiddled with the door before stepping inside, lifting a hand to gesture for her to wait.

'Ah yes, make the woman wait outside in the freezing cold.' She bitterly bit her tongue.

After a short moment he returned, widening the door for her. She stepped forward, but Miguel didn't move. He eyed her as she walked inside, and something about his steel gaze infuriated her. Emboldened her. So as she moved past him, so close their bodies almost brushed, she met his eyes.

'No, not emotionless,' she realized, breath caught in her throat as she looked into the twin dark pools. There she saw great depths, swirling currents of turmoil- pain, anger and sadness. Conflict. His brows knit, an unnatural sight on a someone who she had seen so serious and sure of himself up to this point. To see his eyes hesitant, lips sown thin in confusion, it felt like a small victory.

She continued gazing into his eyes, challenging him almost to be the first one to look away. He didn't. He kept her gaze as he shut the door behind her, then stepped closer to her. The confusion melted from his face, replaced by the same certainty it had always seemed to hold, and she felt her boldness slowly slip away.

"How did Gavin die?" She repeated again, hands curling into fists.

Miguel stepped forward and she stepped back. Her back hit the door. His hand reached up and she braced herself. Instead, she heard a "click" and glanced to see his hand resting on the lock beside her shoulder. She felt a blush creep over her face. 'Coward.'

"You'll spend the night here." He turned away, walking through the darkness before he reached something on the wall, then lit a match. A candle flame filled the room, then he proceeded to walk around and light more of them. "He won't find us here. I'll get you back home in the morning. Your parents will be a good protection-"

"They aren't my parents." It felt almost wrong to correct him. "They're my aunt and uncle, and I won't put them in danger."

He paused, hand hovering over an oil lamp. "They'll be safe. All of you will be if you stick together. Venom won't kill with witnesses."

Esme lifted a brow. "Venom? That's his name?"

Miguel shook his head. "What Gavin and I called him. Not his real name. We never did find out who he really was."

She frowned. "You make it sound like you two were working together."

He didn't respond. Her eyes widened.

"Miguel, you..." Esme drifted off as he walked.

"All you need to understand Esme, is that your life is in danger and I'm here to prevent it from being taken." He turned back to her, the room now illuminated in a soft glow.

It was small, not too cramped but not very spacious. She could walk maybe a few steps before reaching one wall. There was a bed in the corner, a stove for a fire and cooking. A table in the corner adjacent to it. Cobwebs were in the rafters above and the air stunk of must and wet wood. Aside from that, it was warmer than outside, and she could see Miguel almost perfectly.

His hair was a wind swept mess, eyes more tired than she had noticed, with cuts and bruises on his forehead and jaw. Cheeks red from the wind. A gash ran from his bottom lip to his chin. His neck had blood too, the collar of his shirt torn. His jacket had a large cut down his right sleeve with blood caking where skin should have been shown, while his left had been completely torn off, leaving several long shallow cuts down his bicep and forearm.

The hem of his shirt was in tatters and she couldn't see skin past the crimson staining it. Blood pooled so much she couldn't even tell where it was coming from. Despite it having to be pretty severe for him to be bleeding so badly, he stood with no signs of instability, eyes unwavering.

She ground her teeth. "If I'm in need of protection then you're worse off- just look at yourself." She crossed the room and stepped to the counter, opening the cabinets and drawers and looking for gauze or some alcohol or plain soap and water. She knew one thing from having a nurse in the family and it was the importance of sterilizing the wound.

Miguel sighed then moved to join her. "I can take care of it by myself."

She almost felt inclined to leave him to his own devices but the part of her, the child that refused to leave a classmate with a scraped knee behind, refused to leave this classmate behind either. He saved her. Esmerelda couldn't forget that.

Opening a drawer she found a first aid opened and spilling its contents out. A roll of gauze rolled towards her from the momentum, and she gingerly grabbed it, placing it in the kit before moving it to the counter. She opened several more cabinets before she found a half empty bottle of vodka. She frowned. This cabin hadn't been abandoned like she had presumed. Someone had been living here.

Esme continued looking, sifting through cups and plates that lacked the dust and grime she had been expecting, then continued to the last cabinet. There was a few rags and she grabbed them before placing them next to the first aid on the counter.

Miguel watched her silently, then pulled up a chair and sat down with a sigh. "Hand me the sowing-"

She shot him a glare. "I'm going to clean your wounds first before you do such a thing."

He frowned. "I don't need your mothering,"

Esme's gaze sharpened. "Shut up."

He cut off, surprise shown on his face. He obviously hadn't expected her to take up such a tone so quickly with him. But she didn't give him time to respond, turning on the faucet and filling a bowl with warm water. She walked over to him, kneeling beside him and setting the bowl and rags next to her.

Carefully, she soaked one and wrung it before she pressed a hand to his sleeveless arm, keeping a firm grip as he flinched away.

"Esmerelda just hand it over-" she pressed the rag to a slice on his shoulder and he snapped his mouth closed, but made no expression. If he hadn't cut off she wouldn't have even known he was in pain.

'So he's not completely unfeeling.' She thought, gently cleaning the wound before dipping back into the bowl and wringing. She dabbed the next slice.

"Don't argue with me anymore." She said firmly. "You can hold claim to subjects like monsters and fighting, but don't fight me when it comes to healing. I have generations worth of stubbornness when it comes to helping people and it didn't end with me."

He turned his head away, so she took it as resignation.

The silence persisted for the rest of the time, her hands working to clean his arm before dressing the wounds with gauze. She didn't have anything else to use and just had to hope his strangeness extended to more than inhumane strength and red eyes. Perhaps he had an extra strong immune system.

Eventually she had to remove his jacket and shirt, which was a difficult feat when her patient refused to do it himself. Despite his resistance he didn't put up much of a fight, eventually caving and letting her undress him. She fought the urge to let out a horrified gasp as her eyes landed on his scarred torso.

Miguel's neck had shallow incisions where the beast had sunken its teeth, blood dried around them. His pectorals were lined with smaller scars, purple bruises embellishing them. His abs were a checkered pattern of more bruises and scars, a long deep gash falling vertically across them. She quickly took a new rag and tended immediately to the worst of it his wounds, keeping her eyes focused on finding any debris with the touch of her fingers.

There wasn't much soap to sanitize her hands so she had to be mindful not to dig too deeply. She used the rag to wipe away the blood and get a better look at the wound. The skin was rough at the edges of the cut, uneven in places. One end of it was more shallow as well, so she focused on the deeper end.

Esme chewed her lip. She didn't know as much as she wished she did. What if she messed up? Made things worse? She shook herself internally and reached for the kit. She had to sow the wound shut. Could she do that?

Her hand lifted the needle and trembled as she desperately tried to thread it. A hand rested on her arm and she looked up. Miguel didn't say anything to argue. He didn't utter a word. Instead he looked in her eyes, then slowly reached for her hand, taking the needle from her.

She gulped, loosening her grip as he took the roll of thread from her as well. He nodded slightly, an understanding passing between them. Esme sat back, watching him as he sowed the gash with quick movements, precise and almost perfect. He was well practiced with this. How many injuries had he suffered before this? Forced to tend to them on his own? It wasn't hard to guess from the look of scars on his arms and chest.

This strange boy she had only seen lingering in the halllways, always the smart ass of the class. She thought she knew him as the player, the lone wolf who had a mouth that could lip off to anyone. Then she thought he had been the murderer who had stolen away her first love.

But here he was, quiet and focused. Calm. Too much emotion in his eyes to be the stone cold, vile man she had thought him to be. He felt pain. And he saved her.

How much of Miguel O'Hara did she really know about? She'd never spoken to him at school. Before the New Year's party she had only a few interactions with him in their class's lab project.

He finished sowing, then hesitantly lifted the thread, looking to her.

'He wants me to cut it.' She realized, then paused. She leaned forward, doing the first thing that popped into her head. She placed her hands on each side of the thread, then bit, teeth sawing through it. When she pulled back she looked up to see an odd expression on Miguel's face. What?

Then it clicked. Her hands were still on his abs. Still on his body that radiated with heat. She quickly withdrew them. Seeking to distract herself from his gaze, she grabbed bowl she'd been soaking rags in, the water murky with blood, and walked over to the sink to renew it.

"You're... genuine, aren't you?" She turned to see Miguel murmur, eyes thoughtful.

"Genuine?" Esme tilted her head.

Miguel nodded. "I've always thought you were just the stuck up cheerleader who faked being nice." He paused, looking down at his arm that she wrapped. "But the charity events, tutoring, mouthing off to Flash- that was all real, wasn't it?"

Miguel met her eyes. There was a subtle beauty to them. Living in Jersey you got used to the forest greens and hill tops, that you forget the smaller things. The sway of the trees as the spring wind blew, or the reflection of the creek, swirling and clear. The trees didn't conceal the sky when the wind blew, and the creek wasn't murky to hide the rocks at its bottom. They didn't lie, didn't deceive. Earnest and true. Like Esmerelda's eyes.

Esme looked away, turning the faucet off. She noticed her arm hairs had lifted, goosebumps trailing up from her wrist. Why did this man's gaze get to her so?

"I'll tend to your other arm now." She kept her voice steady, trying not to let her hands shake as she carried the bowl back over, kneeling down again.

Her eyes drooped but she shook herself awake, getting back to work.

She wasn't certain how much time passed before she was done mending his arm, but it hadn't taken as long as his other wounds, the cuts more shallow and short. Everywhere else had just been bruised skin, and there wasn't much she could do for that. By the time it was all done she felt her muscles aching and herself sagging, fighting to keep herself upright.

Miguel nudged her shoulder, stirring her to open her eyes. When had she closed them? She sat upright, pulling herself off his leg where she had been leaning against. She didn't have the strength to feel flushed by her actions, too tired to care.

"You can have the bed," he spoke softly, gently helping her up to her feet. She nodded, though logically she knew she should argue with him, that he was the injured one and should have the bed, but she doubted she could actually convince him.

So she dragged her feet and laid on the bed, pulling a thin sheet around herself and curling up. She shivered, unsure how she was going to keep herself warm with just this, then glanced at Miguel, who was sitting down against the wall.

"Y-you mindswell just come over here, or we'll b-both f-freeze to d-death." Her teeth chattered, as if to emphasize her point.

Miguel hesitated, not keen on the idea, but seeing her shaking form convinced him to stand up and walk over.

"How do you l-live h-here and n-not have any e-extra b-blankets?" Esme grimaced, scooting over for him on the bed. It creaked with his weight, body so large that they had to squeeze for him to fit with her, her back to the wall.

He shrugged. "How do you know I live here?"

Esme lifted a brow, as if it had been obvious. When Miguel looked to be waiting for a response she sighed. "You knew where the building was, and the place doesn't look completely abandoned. You left a half drunken bottle in the cabinet and there were conveniently enough gauze and material for stitches in the drawer."

He smiled softly. "You're sharper than you look you know."

Esmerelda rolled her eyes then curled up against him, shivering. "I'd rather sleep than argue with you, unless you're going to tell me what's going on here."

Miguel shook his head. "I can't tell you anything."

She frowned. "Why not?"

He paused, then closed his eyes. "The less you know, the safer you'll be."

She sighed. "I'll get you to talk eventually, Duke of limbs."

He chuckled softly. She closed her eyes, falling asleep much easier than she should have with a supposed murderer beside her. That was the thing though, wasn't it? Knowing that Gavin had trusted Miguel, that they had been working together before his disappearance, comforted Esme. He hadn't been the one to kill Gavin, but he knew who did. And that was groundbreaking information- one that meant she depended on Miguel now for answers.

And nobody, not even this venom, would get in the way of Esmerelda finding out just who this "Salem County Slasher" really was.