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“The universe is infinite….”
His warm voice, half singing and mostly humming, washed over her better than any coat or blanket. Her Tom, hers again finally fucking finally, lead her on a leash of music and memories through the empty corridors of the mall. The ghosts of shoppers past brushed around her, ignored for the beautiful now she had found.
“...it's definite….there’s an alternative reality…”
Becky felt the giggles bubbling in her throat, her promise pouring out of her without thought or doubt, “where we’re now a family…”
Tom’s muttering cut off suddenly, his feet stopped suddenly, causing Becky to press into his back. She pushed closer, even as he tried to shush her, inhaling the smell of her new, her old, her eternal love. Finally cleansed of that cheap aftershave he’d been nicking from old man Houston since freshman year. Now he was just spicy and ash and fire burning at the back of her nose and the tip of her fingers.
He pointed into the darkness, her precious bloodhound, and she followed him to the small form that trembled in fear.
“A child.” She whispered into Tom’s ear, both tilting their head in synchronized thought as the little girl noticed them. The tiny, oh so bitty little tiny, thing startled and moved to run. But Becky knew children, and she knew what one would want to hear. “Honey, don’t run now, it’s okay. Are you hurt?”
The girl paused, obviously torn between the nice nurse with the big smile and kindness dripping from her lips verses the potential safety beyond the neon colors of the playground. Becky slipped around Tom, who’s arms quickly wrapped around her middle. Not as small as it used to be, no longer the fighting fit cheerleader she used to be. But his hands were still as warm as they once were. He held her close, held her back, while the girl thought over her options. And as she hesitated, the adults zoned in on what she held in her oh so small hands.
“She has a Wiggly.” Tom growled, his voice reverberating through her back and down her spine. She could feel the timber of him trailing across each vertebrate and she shook with the joy of it.
The girl tensed at his observation, but didn’t flee when neither adult advanced. And against her ear Becky could feel Tom’s sharp tooth grin.
“She has your hair.”
Becky focused, seeing the red braids before her and seeing the red braids in her memory. Her mother had done the same for her, much neater, much cleaner. Never under a ratty hat and never so frayed. No, no, no, Becky Barnes hadn’t been born with a quicksilver spoon but Mrs. Barnes had standards for her little girl.
Her little girl, who seemed to wilt under their stares. Becky could feel her smile growing wider and sweeter and hungrier.
“I know you, don’t I honey?” She reached a hand out, not to catch, no no no. Need to lure the curious kitty closer, let them come to you. “I know you, Alexandra…”
“Not Lex,” Tom snapped, “the other one.”
Beck straightened in his iron hold because of course, of course, of course. Not Alexandra with those healthy lungs and angry eyes, no no no, this was, this was…
“Hannah.” Becky corrected. “Such a pretty name, Hannah. Such a pretty little girl. And all alone, too.”
Tom clucked his tongue, heavy head shaking with parental disapproval. “Shouldn’t leave children alone. Anything could happen.”
The girl, the child, Hannah clung to the doll. The envy green prize, the treasure, and Beck couldn’t stop the giggle bubbling out of her throat and into the stale air of the empty mall. It was too funny, too damn funny.
“An alternative reality,” She purred, hand and claws reaching out, “where we’re now a family.”
Those vines grew around her middle, those arms wrapping tighter and tighter around her ribs until they cracked and ached, and they launched themselves at the confused child.
Hannah Foster ran, her worn shoes beating soft as a hummingbird heartbeat as she dashed through the tiled hallways. But Tom could see so much more, could see the branching paths of the dying mall. As he hurried up a disabled escalator Becky ran, faster and faster. Can’t let her escape, can’t let her snot nosed kid get away, can't be giving those other moms, that fucking Linda Monroe, an excuse to think she was a failure. No, no, no.
Becky threw herself at Hannah, throwing them both against the wall that was Tom Houston. The doll fell from Hannah’s arms, quickly scooped up by Tom who grinned at the furry beast.
“Aw, babe, look what I found.” He cheered, leaning down to kiss her, to bite her, to devour her whole and this, this, this was what Becky had wanted. Her husband, her high school sweetheart, her soulmate, smiling down at her. The blood in his mouth her own, the child in her arms their own. “Just the one though. Guess the kids will need to share.”
“Sharing is caring.” Becky sang, trading the struggling child and the motionless doll, from her arms to his to hers.
“Let me go!” Hannah screamed, and Becky tried to remember what the parenting books said to do. Was spanking okay? Had it been okay? Would it be okay? She could never remember.
But they didn’t have time. There was scurrying behind them, below them, around them. Shoppers looking for that must have winter toy, the gift on every kid’s Christmas list, and they had him and now nothing would ever be wrong again.
Nothing would be wrong, as long as they hurried home for the holidays.
Tom took their daughter, their previous daughter with her mother’s hair and her father’s sharp teeth, and held her still while Becky prepared the syringe. Always good to be prepared, never know when the ghosts of the past became the pains of the present. No, need to be prepared to put those nightmares to sleep, put Stanley back down, forever and ever.
Not anymore, not with Tom keeping them safe. Her Tom, only ever her Tom, fucking Jane thinking she could steal away Becky’s fucking family, no she would never let them go and he would always keep them safe.
Yes, she could spare a little, enough to ease their poor baby to sleep after her busy day. Just a little in the neck, careful of Tom’s arms that held their baby still, careful of the blood pouring from Tom’s hand where their sweet angel gnawed and clawed.
Poor dear, they were always so difficult when they miss their naps.
“Aren’t they sweet when they’re sleeping?” Becky cooed, pushing away that disgusting hat and tangling her fingers in that Barnes red hair. “Let’s hurry home. We can wrap up Wiggly and surprise the kids.”
Tom grinned, catching her in a fierce kiss. His bloody hand painted her face, supporting her and Hannah and that precious doll. His beautiful family, almost complete. The family he had been looking for, almost picture perfect once more.
“Tim’s gonna love this.” Tom purred, his teeth sharp and eyes sharper.
And together they went hunting for their son.
Their alternative reality.