Her name was Crystal

Three days later, the girl was still asleep.





Curiously enough, Jason found himself worrying about her.





If the girl died it would mean he'd get his bed back. The couch wasn't overly comfortable, and after the third night sleeping on it he was getting a little tired of it. But.. he was noticing more and more that he didn't want the girl to die. And the longer she stayed asleep, the more he worried that she would never wake up.





He checked on her almost constantly now. Between the various chores he set out for himself each day, he would check on her. At first he would just peek into the little alcove that was his bedroom, checking to make sure she was still breathing. Then later he started to enter the room and gaze at her for long moments.. and then eventually he found himself sitting beside her bed again, watching her. For hours.





She twitched from time to time. Her breathing would hitch, and she would move, shifting her sleeping position. Her hands flexed, her little fingers curling and uncurling. Her lips mouthed silent words Jason couldn't make out.



Gradually, slowly, the bruising on her face and neck began to fade. Her damaged eye looked less puffy now. Jason wondered if she'd be able to open both of her eyes whenever she woke up. Then he'd be able to see what colour they were. Why he was curious about what colour her eyes were, he didn't know.





He'd never know if she didn't open her eyes though. She was still breathing, and she didn't look like she was suffering.. so Jason wasn't sure why she wouldn't wake up. He had no idea what happened when a person was badly hurt. He never left anyone badly hurt and waited to see what happened. He killed them as quickly as possible.





He tilted his head as he gazed at her, wondering at how soft the skin on her hands looked. His hands were rough and calloused from years of outdoor work and killing. Her hands were tiny and smooth, with little pink nails at the ends of her fingers.



Curiously, Jason reached out for one of her hands. Yes, her skin was soft. It was incredibly smooth, Jason discovered, as he rubbed his thumb over her palm. And the difference in size.. Jason knew he was larger than most of the men he'd killed.. and much larger than the women. He never really understood why women were so tiny. They were weak too. That made killing them much easier than killing men. He wouldn't be killing this girl though. He decided he liked how small she was. And how soft her skin was.





She moaned.





Jason jerked his hand away from hers and watched her face. She was waking up.





He was right about her damaged eye. It opened, along with the other one. Her gaze was fuzzy and unfocused for a few moments, then she blinked and turned her head. She saw him sitting there, watching her.





They were green. Her eyes. They were large and fringed with dark lashes.







"Hello," Her voice was quiet and broken from the lack of use. "Did you stay with me all this time?"





He shook his head no. She smiled. She had a really nice smile. It looked warm.





"I guess I've been out for awhile, huh?"





He nodded, slow. She coughed, then groaned and clenched her eyes shut.





"May.. may I please have some water?" She coughed again.





He stood and left the room and returned a short while later with a glass of water. He had a large canteen that he used for water. He went once a week to fetch more from an old well that had been dug so long ago it was older than the camp itself.





He sat back down beside the bed as she struggled to sit up, wincing in pain. He handed her the glass and watched as she sipped at it. When she'd had enough she handed the glass back to him, and he set it aside.





"Thank you.." She whispered, already physically tired from sitting up and drinking. She had a long way to go before her body healed. He hoped she wouldn't lay back down and go to sleep right away. He'd given up wondering why he found her interesting. It was easier just to accept the fact that he liked looking at her, and felt happy that she was awake.





She was looking at him now.





"I'd tell you my name.. but I don't remember it. I'm sorry."





He tilted his head. She didn't remember her own name? That was strange.





"I don't remember anything.. I wish I did. I don't even know if I know you or not."





Jason shook his head. She didn't know him. And she didn't remember anything at all? He couldn't imagine what it would be like not to remember anything. He could remember everything.. especially his mother. He missed his mother. She was the only one who had ever treated him with kindness.







"Can you tell me who you are?" She looked at him pleadingly, hoping for some thread of information that would help her remember. He couldn't offer her anything though. Not even a voice. He couldn't speak. He'd never been able to speak. He'd always been mute, even as a small child.





He shook his head again, starting to feel upset that he couldn't communicate with her. Bringing her here had been a bad idea, he decided. Now she was going to ask him all sorts of questions that he wouldn't be able to answer. He wanted her to leave. But she couldn't leave yet because she was still hurt. This was so frustrating. He stood to leave the room.





"Do you have something with your name written on it?"







Surprised, he stopped and looked back at her. There was understanding in her large green eyes. She was giving him a gentle smile. She understood that he couldn't talk. She wanted to find another way to learn his name.





The frustration went away.





He nodded. He had something.





He left the room again and came back a moment later. She waited for him, still with the soft smile, and held out her hands to accept the object Jason placed in them. It was a teddy bear.



It was old and threadbare. It once had buttons for eyes, but they were long since gone. The ratty old fur was rubbed off in most places and many of the seams were broken and leaking out old, yellowed fluff from inside. On the bears chest, carefully sewn by hand in black thread, was a name.





"Jason," the girl said, "Your name is Jason."





He nodded and sat back down beside the bed.





"Did your mother make this for you?"





Another nod.





"She was very good." The girl turned the teddy over in her hands, inspecting it. She ran her small fingers over the stitched letters. Then she handed it back to him. He took it and gazed at it for awhile. His mother made this for his 7th birthday. It had been his very favourite toy. He used to hug it whenever he felt lonely. Sometimes he still did.



He handed it back to her. Her smile widened. She wrapped her arms around his tattered old teddy and carefully lay back down in his bed.





"Thank you, Jason." And she closed her eyes.







He sat and watched her slip into sleep again. He lost track of how many hours he stayed.





-----------------------------------



Kay, so there's this picture from Freddy vs Jason of Jason sitting on his bed holding a teddy. It is the cutest picture in the entire universe and I really don't care how messed up that makes me.



Hehe.