Jeff opened the door to his room and turned on the light. There were clothes all over the floor just like you remembered. He set you down on his bed and pulled the covers over you. The sickness hadn't taken over you yet, but he could tell it was going to come to that soon. You looked up at Jeff, you hated that you were showing such weakness in front of him. You judged him so soon, thinking he was a huge jerk. The memory of breaking into his room and stealing his hoodie played back in your mind, and now this guy was helping you.

"Jeff..." He looked at you, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry... about your hoodie." He huffed and rolled his eyes, placing a hand atop your head. He refused to look you in the eyes. He wasn't expecting an apology, and it caught him off guard.

"It's whatever, I know that little psycho put you up to it."

"Maybe she isn't so bad after all."

He noticed a rash forming on your wrist just above the discoloration. It was slowly traveling up your arm, and he knew he needed to act fast. He got up and told you he'd be back soon, speed walking down the hallway to go raid Ann's office. Ann would be out killing, she's a day killer. He opened the office and raided it for medical supplies. He grabbed whatever he thought was helpful, and ran back to his room.
You were fading fast, the sickness wouldn't take long to spread throughout your entire body. He took a quick look at you and you looked like you were about to puke. You sat up, and covered your mouth, looking at Jeff with a desperate and scared look in your eyes. Jeff couldn't act fast enough, and you threw up all over his hoodie. He sighed exasperatedly, covering his eyes.

"Fan-fucking-tastic."

~~

Tim rolled over in bed, finally waking up. He stretched his arm out to touch you, but his eyes shot open when he realized you weren't there. He quickly got up and looked around frantically, not seeing you anywhere in his room. He got up from bed and walked around, checking the bathroom and guest room but still found nothing.

"(Y/n)?" Tim called out for you, but there was no response. He walked downstairs and didn't see you. You must've gone to the mansion without him again. He sighed and walked back upstairs. He blacked out while he was doing the dishes, which usually means Masky took over. The fact that you've gone missing right off the heels of Masky fronting didn't seem right to him. He changed into his usual attire, his signature yellow jacket, black jeans, and his mask.
He walked out of the house and made his way to the mansion, hoping nothing bad had happened to you.

~~

You laid on your stomach on Jeff's bed, while he rubbed anti-rash cream on your arm and shoulder. He had taken off your shirt, and you laid there in your bra. Jeff however didn't care, he wasn't interested and it's not like he hadn't seen boobs before. However he was interested in the healing scars decorating your back.

You felt like you were battling some horrible monster version of the flu, Jeff had a cool, damp cloth on your head for your fever, and he grabbed a bowl from the kitchen in case you needed to throw up again.
You not only had nausea and a fever but you frequently went into coughing fits, you were extremely paranoid, and you were more exhausted than you had ever been in your whole life. Jeff wasn't wearing anything underneath his hoodie, and threw it to the side. He had been so preoccupied taking care of you he didn't bother to put on another one.

He rolled you back over onto your back and switched the now damp pillow.

"You owe me the fattest fucking thank you after this..." He grumbled, as he replaced the cool wash cloth that had become warm from your raging fever. He sat on his bed in front of you, leaning over you to replace the wet cloth. The cloth just barely falling over your eyes. As he was leaning over your barely conscious form his bedroom door slammed open, and the two of you looked over to see Tim standing in the doorway.

Tim looked at the scene before him. You laid there in your bra with a piece of cloth covering your eyes, and Jeff sat there shirtless looking incredibly caught off guard. Tim didn't say anything, but instinctively lunged at Jeff, grabbing his shoulders and slamming him onto the floor.

"What the hell are you doing with my wife!" Jeff flinched, trying to get off the ground.
"Your wife?!" He was incredibly flabbergasted at the fact that someone had willingly decided to marry Tim. Tim got down and cocked his fist to punch Jeff. He was about to collide his fist with Jeff's face when he was caught off guard by the sound of you vomiting into a metal bowl. Tim stopped and slowly turned around to look at you, He immediately took notice of your discolored hand, and the rash stemming from it. You were pale, and he reached out to touch your forehead, your head was hot to the touch. He looked back to Jeff and he stood up.

"If you had let me explain myself I would've told you what was going on here!" He hissed. Tim sat next to you, putting his arm around you. You collapsed into his hold, and he took off his mask. He set it next to him on Jeff's bed, and Jeff sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm not making a pass at your wife... she's not my type anyway." Tim scowled.

"I found her slumped over outside the boss' office, she has the sickness." Tim's heart dropped to his stomach. Now he was the one feeling nauseous. The fact that you had the sickness meant that the operator had officially inducted you. But that didn't mean you were guaranteed to survive. He looked over at you, you were breathing heavily and your eyes were squeezed shut. Sweat coated your entire body, and your normal (s/c) skin was sickly pale. Tim laid you back down gently on Jeff's bed, and placed a cold towel on your forehead.

"She's deteriorated crazy quick, I don't know if she'll make it." Jeff looked over to you, his eyes void of any distinct emotion.

"Why are you helping her?" Tim squeezed your hand, looking at Jeff for an answer. Jeff really couldn't care less if you lived or died, but he knew letting you die would cause more harm than good. At the moment you were the only thing acting as Masky's anchor. Both Tim and Masky were ticking time bombs, and you dying at the hands of the operator would certainly be the catalyst to their downfall.

"I'm saving my own skin here Tim, I'm not doing this for the good of your wife." Tim squeezed your hand tightly, glancing over at your now unconscious form. Your breathing was labored, and you were drenched in sweat.

"You know better than anyone that this just has to run its course." Tim nodded and stood up, walking towards the door.

"Where are you going? Aren't you gonna take her with you?!" Tim said nothing and slammed the door behind him, leaving Jeff alone with you again. He sighed and sat at the foot of his bed, reaching into a pile of clothes on the floor and pulling out a black t-shirt. He slipped on the shirt and looked over at you once more.

"You better come out of this short stack..."

Tim stomped down the empty hallway, determined to give his boss a piece of his mind. He was beyond angry, he was downright furious. You were never supposed to be a part of this god forsaken travesty of a "business". He knocked loudly on the operator's tall wooden door, but ripped it open, not waiting for a response. There he sat, the operator ever the imposing presence. But right now Tim was seeing red, all he thought to do was to tell him off.

"Tell me why the hell my wife is vomiting her guts out!" Tim's loud voice filled the room. The operator sat there emotionless with his hands crossed elegantly on his desk.

"You know the rules better than anyone Timothy, an outsider can't stay here in my domain." Tim clenched his fists, the extent of his anger was apparent even with his mask covering his face.

"You didn't think to consult me first?! You just went ahead and gave my wife your fucking sickness?!" Tim violently pushed the two chairs out of the way and slammed his hands on his desk.

"You should thank me Timothy, I could've also just killed her." The Operator's tone was condescending and cautionary. Tim had always been confrontational but he knew what the operator's boundaries were and he was intentionally crossing them.

"You kill her and I kill every single breathing entity in this mansion... I will lay waste to your entire operation." The Operator stood up, looming over Tim at his tall height.

"You have no right to threaten me, boy." Tim looked up at him, stone cold and unwavering. No one had ever challenged the operator like this and survived, Tim was truly gambling with his life. He wasn't scared in the slightest, he was willing to die if it meant he went out protecting you.

"Then do not threaten my wife." Tim and The Operator stood there locking eyes. There was a standoff of the two most imposing presences in the mansion, and neither of them planned to back down.

"It seems we've reached an impasse." The Operator sat back down, and came off the defensive. He folded his hands and motioned for Tim to sit. Tim silently refused, continuing to stand in front of the desk angrily.

"I've let you play house with this woman for far too long, you've become soft and malleable." Tim was taken aback, taking his hands off the desk and crossing his arm.

"If and when she comes out of her sickness, I demand you let her stay here in the mansion with the other residents." Tim's heart dropped to his feet. He felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He dug his nails into his palms, drawing blood from his hands.

"You can't do this to me! I've done nothing but be loyal to you for all of the years I've spent doing your dirty work!" Tim screamed at the top of his lungs.

"And I've repaid you for that by not killing her the moment you brought her here, but I can't let my best killer go soft because of an outsider woman that has poisoned your mind with foolish ideas!"

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"She either stays in the mansion and you separate yourself from her, or I kill her." Tim was stuck between a rock and a hard place. All the effort he had exuded towards protecting you, loving you, and keeping you safe had been for nothing. What would you be if you didn't live with him? What would happen between the two of you? He was furious, every day he stayed here the closer he got to running away with you.
He didn't want this anymore, whatever benefits or protection he got from being here wasn't worth it anymore. But he couldn't let you die, he couldn't lose you.

"Fuck you." Tim turned around and walked towards the door.

"Spewing vulgarities and threatening me won't bring back Brian." Tim froze, engulfed in an indescribable rage, and suddenly everything went black.

Toby stood outside the operator's door about to knock, when he heard Masky's booming voice on the other side.

"Don't you dare bring that up ever again!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. It was followed by a loud crash, Toby jumped back and stood in front of the door hesitantly. The door flung open and Masky marched out, harshly shoving him out of the way.

"Get the hell out of my way, freak!" Toby glared at him but didn't say anything, he peeked his head into the office to see chairs overturned and books ripped off the shelves.

"I-I'll just come back l-later sir."