"Oh my god, we have to call a doctor or-" the doorbell rings and you almost cry out. This is not the time!! It rings again, and you cover your face. "What do we do?!" you turn to Danny, then Jason, then Norman and then Freddy.

"I-I'll get it." Norman offers, turning and hurrying downstairs. You had forgotten Brahms was there, but now he was kneeling at your side, staring at you with scared eyes through his mask.

"(Y/N)?" he asks in his child's voice, tilting his head. Shakily, you force a smile, but it's wiped from your face as a voice rings up the stairs.

"(Y-Y/N)?" Norman calls, and you climb to your feet. You're covered in a good amount of blood. You slowly descend the stairs, standing just before the bottom so you couldn't be seen from the front door.

"Y-Yes?" you call back.

"Someone's asking for you." he appears at the stairs, a worried look on his expression.

"T-Tell them I can't talk." you whisper back, sharing his nervous expression.

"I can smell the blood already, dear. I heard the gunshots, as well. I only want to help." it's a man's voice, calm and collected. You take a deep, shaky breath, and take the last few steps of the stairs. You peek your head around the corner to see a bald man in a white t-shirt and black pants. He isn't even fazed by your blood-covered... well, everything, in fact his eyes soften with concern. "Oh my." he says simply, stepping further into the house and towards you, tilting his head as he scans your condition. "Any casualties?" he asks simply, and you hesitate a moment before nodding. He clicks his tongue. "Any injured?" to this you nod quicker, and he nods right back. "My name is Dr. Lecter. I'd like to help you. Can you bring me to them?" the man, Dr. Lecter, asks. You nod again. Your voice seems to have stopped working, throat scratchy and raw from screaming.

You hurry upstairs, hugging yourself tightly. Upon seeing the two dead and the many injured, Lecter stops in his tracks. He scans over everyone, his gaze landing on Michael.

"Michael Myers." his voice holds a hint of curiosity, but no fear. "Jason Voorhes, Freddy Krueger... you've got them all collected, I see. Do you have a first aid kit, by chance?" Lecter asks, moving to kneel beside Michael without a care. Michael tenses, but is much too weak to start a fight.

"I'll get it." Norman offers, disappearing and reappearing in seconds, handing the medical supplies to Dr. Lecter.

"6 bullet wounds... you took quite the damage, Myers." Lecter clicks his tongue, peeling open the med-kit. He got to work dressing the wound, speaking to you over his shoulder as he did. "Seeing as you're housing these notorious killers, I have a feeling you won't mind my telling you I'm an escapee from the asylum nearby."

"O-Oh." you say simply, gulping and nodding your head, "Just my luck." you force a nervous chuckle, wiping the tears from your face; you hadn't even noticed them, but at least you weren't violently sobbing. You were handling this surprisingly well. "Will he be okay?" you ask, kneeling down beside Michael. You could still hear his heavy, irrational breathing, his chest rising and falling sporadically. Lecter thinks for a moment, then nods.

"Seeing as he's survived things similar to this before, he has a pretty good chance for survival. With the right care and tending he'll be just fine."

You smile, letting out a relieved chuckle and running a hand through your hair.

"Good, good." you breathe out, reaching to take Michael's hand. "Hear that, Mike? You'll be just fine, I'll make sure of it." The only response you got was him squeezing your hand, before his head slumped to the side, falling unconscious. A few tense minutes passed as Lecter dressed Michael's wounds, turning to Jason next. He was in a much better condition, only having one gun wound, having missed the other. It only took a moment to place bandages around the wound, which was in his arm, before Dr. Lecter moved over to Danny.

"May I ask what happened?" Lecter said in his scarily calm tone, lifting the leg of Danny's pants. He shook his head, tutting at the bloodied wound and the crappy stitches now torn to shreds. "About tonight, that is. I can see this wound is the result of... a bear trap, most likely Jason's over here?" Danny nods.

"M-My parents freaked out and pulled a gun on Danny. Something about him coming onto my mom, but I know it was the other way around, I saw it-"

"It's quite alright, dear, I believe you." Lecter cut in, turning to you with a smile. "These stitches aren't done very well." he pointed out, and you chuckle nervously again.

"Michael was the best qualified at the time, and, well... we couldn't exactly go to a hospital." you wince as Lecter pulls a disinfectant rag from it's packaging, cleaning away the blood. He wasn't as gentle as you had been, but as a result he was doing a much better job. You sit by Danny's side, and he takes your hand, squeezing it so hard you think the bones will break. "Danny hasn't exactly been careful with them either. The stitches have snapped more often than I'd like to admit." Lecter finished up with cleaning, grabbing a needle from the kit and a small bottle of anesthetic that you'd never even touched before.

"Look at that, Sweetheart, how convenient." his voice held a bit of a hiss, but you knew he was stressed and in pain so you didn't take it personally.

"(Y/N)?" Brahms called from just in front of the stairwell, your gaze snapping to face him. His eyes, half-hidden by his porcelain mask, were trained on your mother's corpse.

"What do you need, Brahms?" you ask, tilting your head and following his gaze, frowning.

"I can bury them." he offered, drawing a smile from you. You nod your head, and he nods right back.

"Freddy, can you help him?" you ask, and reluctantly, Freddy nods.

"W-What c-can I do?" Norman cuts in, eager to help.

"I need you here to help Dr. Lecter get everyone to their rooms." you say firmly and with a sense of importance; it was a small job, but an important one nonetheless. Norman nods, waiting for orders from Dr. Lecter.

"Dr. Lecter-"

"Call me Hannibal." he cuts in swiftly, before nodding for you to continue,

"Hannibal," you correct, "I'm going to guess you have nowhere to stay. In exchange for your medical knowledge, I'm offering a place to stay." you don't have other rooms, but there's a pullout couch in the basement that's almost as comfy as your bed. Hannibal smiles, nodding his head.

"That would be much appreciated, but I'd hate to intrude."

"It would be no problem, really. I would enjoy having someone around who can help me keep these boys all healthy." you crawl to your feet as you speak, Danny still clinging to your hand. "Danny, I need to shower, okay? I'll make you and everyone else some much-needed soothing tea, afterwards." Danny groans as the needle pierces his skin, his leg falling asleep slowly, but he lets go of your hand anyways.

"Take care of yourself, too, sweetheart. D-Don't stretch yourself too thin, not for us, anyways." his eyes are pleading, worried, and you nod, smiling sympathetically.

A shower was much needed. The moment you turned the showerhead on, the water hitting the tiles of the shower floor, you felt a desperate need to be under the water. You tossed your towel on the bathroom counter, then your clothes, bloodied and caked in sweat, to the floor. You slipped under the water and let out a sigh. It was just warm enough to make your back sting, but the feeling of the blood and sweat being washed away was enough to keep you under it. You shampooed your hair three times before you were satisfied with it's cleanliness, and then you ran the conditioner through until it felt silky smooth. You scrubbed your body with a soapy rag until it was almost tender, but at least you got every speck of blood off of your complexion. Even after you were 100% clean, you sat down on the shower floor and pulled your legs to your chest, leaning your face down and resting your forehead on your knees. You lost track of time as you melted into the thrumming of the water on your back and the steam you inhaled, making your lungs a little bit tight, in a pleasant sort of way. You would have fallen asleep if there hadn't been a sharp knock on the door, one that startled you out of your skin.

"(Y/N)?" it was Brahms' voice. He must have buried the bodies already.

"Yes?" you call back with a strong, even voice, the shower having washed away the last of your doubts and fears. You'd killed them to protect yourself and the ones you're growing to love like family.

"It's done." Brahms shouts, and you respond with an 'ok', shutting off the water after another moment and stepping from the shower. You stare at yourself in the mirror, the dark bruise on your wrist and the few cuts and scrapes you'd earned. You'd gotten off easy, compared to everyone else.

You wrap the towel around you, hugging it tightly to your frame and hurrying to your bedroom. You shut the door behind you, looking for something comfortable to wear and settling on a t-shirt, a large hoodie and a baggy pair of sweats. You then slip into a pair of slippers, run a brush through your hair, and hurry downstairs. Norman is seated at the counter with Hannibal, Brahms in the kitchen making a meal.

"(Y-Y/N), hi." Norman smiles as you lean against the doorframe, observing everyone with a smile.

"Thank you, you guys. Thanks so much for helping me." you stare down at the floor, suddenly bashful, your emotions all over the place. You don't even hear as Brahms leaves his place at the stove, crossing the room to your and pulling you into a tight hug, one you gratefully return. His hand gently strokes your still-wet hair, and the last of your stress is vanquished.

"Anything for you, (Y/N)." Brahms' voice is quiet, almost inaudible, a simple breath that even you barely heard. He pulls away, then turns and hurries back to the stove as you take a seat next to Hannibal.

"How is everyone?" you ask, leaning your head on your hand.

"Just fine. They're in their rooms, wounds dealt with. As long as they take it easy they'll recover in no time." Hannibal responds with a light smile. He'd washed the blood off his hands as well.

"That's good to hear. Thanks for offering to help." you hold out your hand, "I'm (Y/N). I haven't properly introduced myself, have I?" Hannibal takes your hand, nodding his head deeply in greeting.

"And thank you for allowing me to stay here." your hands separate, and you tilt your head, curious about Lecter and his backstory. He seemed able to read your question from your expression alone, and he smiles lightly. "My story is a complicated one, and I'm sure neither of us have the energy to go through all of that as of now. I'd be happy to share after a night of rest," Hannibal opens his mouth to speak again, but is interrupted as Brahms sets plates of food down in front of all of you. It looks edible enough, but it definitely wasn't anything special; simple pasta with alfredo sauce and chicken. Everyone ate in silence, Norman and Hannibal finishing first and bringing plates to the injured up in their rooms. Once you were done, Brahms had swooped in and taken your plate for you, ushering you from your seat and up to your room.

"Sleep!" he demanded, hands on his hips. You smile, and give in after a minute of complaining and denial. You flop down into your bed, and Brahms covers you in your blankets, tucking you in. "Goodnight, (Y/N)." his tone is soft, and he leans his porcelain face down, placing a kiss on your forehead with the false lips.

"Goodnight, Brahms." you whisper back as he stands up straight and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving you be. It was hardly 8 o'clock, but you were absolutely exhausted. You slipped into sleep in seconds, no dreams or nightmares despite your traumatic experience. You didn't regret it. They were bad to you, and had endangered other's lives. They were scum, and now they would decay into the earth and serve an actual purpose; the plants needed bodies to be healthy, and now your yard would be the healthiest at all.