Y/n's pov

Struggling as Toby gripped your shirt and began dragging you towards the basement door you pleaded with him to stop. Internally he was screaming at himself to just listen to you but it was far too late for him to turn back. Carrying you into the pitch black room you began to shiver and sink your nails into Toby's arm. His step didn't falter as he walked through the cold room and dropped you against the far wall. You tensed as your exposed skin touched the concrete surface. "Please," you pleaded as you pushed yourself up, trying to get to the door before Toby could shut it.  "Don't bother," Toby muttered not looking back at you while he slammed the door shut.

Mouth slightly agape you took a second to comprehend why you were even there. Thinking through what had occured you couldn't fathom it and honestly Toby couldn't either. So much in fact that he sat by the door and contemplated just swallowing his pride and open the door.

You sat on the top step you sit with your knees to your chest and your face tucked into your arms with your teeth lightly beginning to clatter. This was the spot that generated the most heat but you still estimated it was about sixty degrees, even with what little warm air wafted from beyond the door. The weather outside obviously had an impact in here due to there not being any heating. Toby sat on the other side listening to your deep breaths and clattering teeth trying to sympathize.

He couldn't feel cold, warmth, or anything for that matter. He dug his nails into his palm trying to prove to himself that he could feel it. This was all a lie of course, but he continued pressing his nails harder into his skin drawing blood. He couldn't feel the pain either that should come with it. This was all due to his disorder, congenital insensitivity to pain and anhidrosis; or more commonly known as CIPA, but he really wasn't intending on letting you in on that fact just yet. "I'm sorry," he muttered as he lay his head against the wall while looking at the basement door.

For you on the other hand everything felt cold. He left hours ago with the parting words of a mumbled 'Don't bother' that continued to echo meaninglessly in your head. Nevertheless questions continued to plague your mind. Did he really mean what he said about loving me? Was this all some ploy to mess with my head? And most importantly; When does this maniac plan on letting me out, if at all? You shivered, this time not from the cold room, but the chilling fact that he might just leave you down there. Just as the realization struck you, you began to shake twice as hard, just now realizing that hypothermia was a real concern for you if you weren't let out soon. You might actually freeze down here...

{TimeSkip}

Your eyes grew heavy; heavier than they've ever felt before. At first you rebuked the idea of calling for Toby but now sacrificing your dignity for the promise of warmth seemed not so bad. You were trembling violently as your body triggered its natural response in a last ditch effort to warm itself back up. Throwing in the towel you shakily raised your palm and began banging on the door. Well banging was a bit of an exaggeration, it sounded more like tapping with how weak your attempts were. But even that little activity had been far too exhausting.

You began horsley calling out Toby's name but gave up quickly. While you were becoming too weary to feel any urgency of your situation. Not getting a response you unconsciously decided sleep wouldn't be the worst option. Slowly you let your heavy eyelids drift shut. A stray thought warned you that you should be scared, but fear was a concept that floated somewhere beyond your immediate reach. Your allowed your head roll back as you began to feel warm wash over you.

Toby's pov

I cracked my eyes open and looked up blankly, like I would have any other morning. It seemed off. Like the calm before a storm kind of off. Did I leave the stove on? I questioned myself as I pushed myself off the wall and walked into the kitchen. No that's not it. I thought as I tiredly rubbed my eyes and began cooking my breakfast. Cracking open a can of soup for the umpteenth time I started warming it up. I should make Y/n some. I weiraly thought as I continued preparing our food.

Like a lightbulb flickering on over my head I remembered. I let the bowl slip between my fingers as I realized what I had forgotten. Tripping over myself I ran towards the basement door. Throwing it open I watched their limp body fell forward and into the floor head first in front of me.

I set them smothered in blankets on the couch with their eyes lightly shut obviously not hearing the words coming out of my mouth. In fact the only indication that they were still alive was their weak intake of breath. Blood gently cascaded down the side of their face where they fell and created small blood clumps in their matted hair. I paced back and forth as I slowly started to cascade further into madness, "Are y-you okay? Are you s-still cold? Do you want soup o-or another blanket just t-talk to me..." I asked pathetically as I gripped their limp hand.

I let this happen. I let my pride and impulse dictate my actions. I placed their hand on my face hoping by some miracle that they would just wake up. "I'll be nicer," I pleaded with them. "I'll t-take you out of the house, you'll never leave m-my side trust me!" I said convincing myself that they had to wake up.

"You may n-not enjoy it right now but I promise y-you will in time! In fact this whole situation only proves you s-should be with me so I c-can save you Angel!" I ensured them, throwing out that silly idea that they would be safer without me. And who better? The leader of the Proxy, the soldier that will lead this broken world into salvation and light by ridding the world of those who I deemed unworthy. Who wouldn't just adore someone who'd kill for them?