You sat cross-legged on the floor of Clocky's room, digging through your bag of stolen goods deciding where you were going to start first. You stole some of your favorite junk foods, debating on a bag of (f/c) or (f/d). You pulled out a large can of your favorite soda, stuffing your face with junk food and sugary drinks. Toby laid on the floor holding a box of eggos above his head.

"I-I wonder h-how many people I-I'd piss off if I w-went d-downstairs and made t-these right now." Toby smirked, and looked over at Clockwork.

"You need to eat something other than toaster waffles or you're gonna get fat." Clocky joked around, lightly elbowing his side.

"You like waffles Toby?" You said, craning your neck to take a peak at him. He smiled and stared off into space, setting the box of eggos down onto his chest and holding them tightly. His smile dropped as quickly as it came, and he avoided looking at either of the two girls.

"N-Not particularly, b-but a g-good friend of m-mine does." You looked up at Clocky and the two of you silently wondered who he could be talking about, the two of them were Toby's only real close friends. He let out a sigh and tossed the waffles behind him, seemingly giving up on the idea. He rooted through his bag and pulled out a family size bag of cheese puffs. He stuffed a fistfull of puffs into his mouth, tilting his head and chewing so the food wouldn't spill out of the large gash on his cheek. You decided not to ask about Toby's mysterious friend, deciding it was a sensitive subject he didn't want to open up about.
Toby was always fairly open about everything, so you decided that whatever plagued his mind was something he wasn't willing to share, not even with his two best friends. Clocky laid on the floor, mixing some vodka and her slushie in a separate cup.

"Hey Clocky, can I have some of that?" You were going through a breakup, why not get a little tipsy. She smiled, and slid you the cup she was working on.

"Call me Nat, my name's Natalie." You smiled, taking a swig of the drink. The mixture was good and gross all at the same time, but you didn't care. You'd drink anything no matter the taste to stay with these two people. If you couldn't ever go back to your home you took comfort in the fact that at least you had Nat and Toby. You and Nat laid down next to Toby, each of you grabbing one of his cold hands. Everyone's makeup was running down their faces, drunk off of cheap vodka. Their clothes were covered in blood and glitter, and you absorbed the moment for what it was. You loved these people more than you had ever loved anyone before, and for the first time in a very long time you finally felt at peace.

~~

The day dawned crisp and clear, the sun shining through Nat's thin curtains. The warm rays of sun beamed down onto your sleeping body, and you felt yourself waking up from your sleep. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, and you found yourself clinging to Nat's sleeping body, and Toby clinging to yours. You had a pounding headache, and the normally comforting feeling of the morning sun felt like you were an ant under a magnifying lens. The nausea quickly set in, and you jolted up and made a mad dash for Nat's bathroom.
You didn't remember anything past laying together with Toby and Nat, you vaguely remember drinking some more vodka, but didn't think you drank enough to get hungover. You leaned over the toilet, waiting for the inevitable. Toby woke up when he heard you run from the bathroom, and immediately put the pieces together. He looked down at Nat and knew she would be out for another few hours, and it was best not to wake her up.

He walked downstairs, silently slipping out of the room without being detected. He crept into the kitchen and opened the large fridge, grabbing a large bottle of pedialyte. He set the pedialyte down onto the counter and got to work, making you some bacon and scrambled eggs. Toby had been hungover plenty of times, and knew just what to do. He had to hydrate and feed you, particularly carbs. He knew you'd probably want to take a shower, and he'd encourage you to have one and get lots of rest. He felt warm and fuzzy taking care of his friend, knowing that he could do something to make you feel loved and appreciated.
The bacon sizzled and popped, the smell attracting some of the other residents. Jeff stumbled into the kitchen, quickly pulling his long hair into a ponytail. He wore a gray t-shirt and black basketball shorts.

"Hey man, can you make some for me?" Jeff rubbed his eyes and sat down at a barstool in front of the kitchen island. Toby rolled his eyes and turned around, staring him down, but quickly went back to what he was doing.

"S-Sorry, t-this is for (y/n)." Jeff raised an eyebrow, and leaned on the countertop of the island, staring at Toby's back.

"What for?" Jeff knew it was probably none of his business, but he didn't really care, a small part of him felt personally responsible for the life of the mansion's newest member. Seeing as he took care of her during her sickness and all.

"S-She got her f-first k-kill last night, a-and we partied a-a bit too m-much." Jeff perked up, that was interesting. When he first met her he figured she wouldn't hurt a fly, but she for real killed someone? His lips turned up into a smile, a feeling of pride washing over him.

"Really? Now that's something I didn't see coming." He walked over to the coffee maker, brewing a pot of fresh coffee. Toby ignored him and kept cooking, putting the pieces of bacon on a pile of paper towels. He began cooking the scrambled eggs, seasoning them with salt and pepper.

"S-She's r-really hungover..." Jeff took a sip of his cup of coffee, leaning against the counter. The eggs cooked fast, and Toby put them on a plate and grabbed a glass cup from one of the overhanging cabinets. He poured a glass of cold pedialyte and carried everything upstairs. Jeff smirked, watching Toby struggle to carry everything. While Jeff may try to come across as an emotionless asshole he couldn't help but be glad. The mansion needed a little bit of sunshine.

You sat up in bed, wrapping one of Nat's blankets around your shoulders. Your head was pounding, you've never felt a worse headache in your entire life. There was a knock on the door, and Toby let himself in. Your eyes quickly darted down to the plate and glass he was carrying, the thought of eating sounded appealing but your sensitive stomach seemed to think otherwise.

"I'm never drinking again..." You muttered to yourself. Toby sat on Nat's bed in front of you, he chuckled and ruffled your hair gently.

"I-I don't b-blame y-you." He handed you the cold glass, you didn't know what was in it and hesitated.

He held up the bottle of pedialyte to ease your suspicions, and you slowly brought the chilled glass to your lips. The feeling of the cold liquid soothed your sore throat. Toby stood up and rooted through your bag to try and find a comfortable pair of pajamas for you to wear. But it looked like all you had were summer clothes, the only pair of pajamas he seemed to find were a matching summer (f/c) set. He looked over to Nat, her auburn hair all crazy as she laid there snoring. He looked over to you and watched as you poked your food with your fork.

"I-I'm gonna g-go grab some of m-my pajamas for y-you t-to wear." You nodded and watched him walk out of the room. You took a small bite of the food he gave you, and tried your best not to vomit. The food was delicious, but your stomach was so sensitive. You massaged your head trying to get your headache to go away, but nothing seemed to work.
You opened your eyes to see Jeff standing in the doorway staring at you. You groaned and flopped down onto Nat's bed, your bloodstained clothes from the night before becoming more uncomfortable the longer you wore them. Jeff walked over and picked a piece of bacon up off your plate, popping it into his mouth.

"So, I heard you got wasted last night." You covered your ears and squeezed your eyes shut.

"Not so loud, my head is killing me." You hissed. Jeff chuckled and sat on the bed next to you, handing you the cup of pedialyte.

"My apologies, but congrats on your first kill." He whispered. You groaned in response, taking the cup out of his hands and slowly sipping on the contents of it. He looked down at your scrunched up face and smirked.

"I can take this to mean you've gotten over Tim?" Your eyes shot open, quite truthfully you hadn't thought about him all morning. You'd like to say that you have but in all reality memories of you and Tim began to replay in your mind like a bad movie. Your heart ached thinking about him, and feeling so down in the dumps made you want him here even more. He was so good at taking care of you when you didn't feel well, hell you'd kill to even be with an angry Masky. You glared at Jeff, trying your best to hold yourself together.

"No I haven't... thanks a lot asshole."

~~

Tim sat on the couch, Hoodie standing over him. He refused to look at him, holding a cold bottle of Heineken in his hand.

"We both know you need to stop moping around and get back to work." Hoodie said bluntly. Tim took another swig of his beer and ignored him, looking everywhere but at his masked companion. While Hoodie looked and sounded like Brian he was nothing but a husk controlled by the operator. Considering all the thinking Tim had been doing the presence of his partner in crime filled him with rage. He looked up at him, and glared at him.

"Back off." Tim hissed. Hoodie reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, and Tim swatted his hand away.

"You have to go out with me eventually, you can't keep sitting in here wishing things could be different." Tim gritted his teeth and clenched his fist, he wanted nothing more to just be left alone and to see his wife. Things that most people could attain easily, but once again Tim got the short end of the stick.

"Do you think I don't know that? I'm not stupid you know!" He stood up and faced Hoodie, glaring at him. He knew Brian's face was underneath that mask but it wasn't really Brian under there. Staring at the emotionless husk that used to be his best friend filled him with rage, and Tim walked over to the front door to open it.

"You can see yourself out." Hoodie stood there silently for a moment, just coldly staring at Tim. Tim didn't back down, staring back at him with an equally frigid gaze. Hoodie wavered, walking out the door to which Tim slammed in his face. He sighed and walked back over to his couch, sitting down and burying his face in the palms of his hand. What he wouldn't do right now for some encouragement from you. Your soft voice played over and over again in his brain like a broken record, fearing that if he stopped thinking about it he'd forget what you sounded like. Finally Tim had enough, he didn't care if he got in trouble, he needed to see you, he needed to hear you, he needed to feel you. He stood up and put on his mask, walking out the door. He needed to do this carefully, the operator was aware of what happened inside the forest, but not what happened outside of it. His lips turned up into a smile as the thought of a plan. All he needed to do was lure you out into the open.