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Rachel was cold, but she didn't hate it. Most of the windows in this abandoned building were boarded up, but a few of the boards had fallen, revealing heavy snowfall against the night sky outside. This wasn't the first winter she'd spent with Zack, so she didn't mind the snow, but there was far more snow than usual this winter. She knew her knees to her chest and shivered as she pulled her jacket tighter around herself. She didn't hate the cold, but she grew anxious when Zack was out alone. She had already bought supplies earlier - sometimes Zack's victims were loaded with cash - but Zack had yet to return from whatever he was doing. Moving from abandoned place to abandoned place, always keeping to the shadows - all that bound them was that promise, she knew, and her chest ached as she rested her forehead against her knees. A loud noise echoed throughout this empty building, and Rachel slunk back into the shadows as her fingers tightened around her knife. It was a different knife, a new one Zack had stolen for her, as she'd left the old one he had given her behind at that facility, but he'd still called it a gift, and she felt safer with it by her side. Heavy footsteps grew closer as she held her breath, but as the scent of blood greeted her, she saw the silhouette of a familiar scythe and relaxed. "You're back," she said to Zack. "Fuck, it's cold out there," Zack said as he dropped the bag he was carrying and brushed snow from his shoulders. "Tomorrow we're findin' a warmer place to stay." Rachel eyed the bag, which looked ready to burst. "I already got supplies earlier." "Yeah, but I got bored, so I wanted to have some fun." Zack set his scythe against the wall - he'd remembered to clean the blade, Rachel noticed - and rummaged through the bag. "And I got this for you, since you're always readin' and shit," he added as he tossed a small book to Rachel. She caught the book and stared at the cover. "Zack, I can't read this. It's in Spanish." "Tch, it's all the same, ain't it?" Zack's eyes narrowed. "And here I am, tryin' to be nice…" Rachel said nothing else as she knelt to examine what else was in the bag. Mostly junk food, but also some more rolls of bandages and a handful of lighters. Somewhat useful, she thought, but again she wondered how Zack had managed to take care of himself for so long while also evading the police. Then again, as he had once told when she asked, most problems could be solved by slicing and dicing. She took a lighter and tested it, sparking a small flame. "I'll heat some soup for us." Zack grinned beneath his bandages. "As long as it's hot, I don't give a fuck what you feed me." The soup was scant and quick to made, but Zack didn't complain as he wolfed his share down in minutes. Rachel ate hers more slowly, and silence fell over them. She didn't mind; she was used to this kind of silence, and she felt more at ease with Zack nearby. He still smelled like blood, as usual, but she found she kind of liked it. It was familiar, at least. When they finished eating, Zack took off his hoodie and grabbed a roll of bandages, and Rachel watched out of the corner of her eye. He didn't seem self-conscious or embarrassed about his burn scars, but it was only recently he'd begun to change his bandages in front of her. Maybe it should've been strange, watching a man older than her strip without hesitation, but like nearly everything he did, he did it so shamelessly that she couldn't help but stare. "Ray?" Zack's rough voice cut through her thoughts. "What are you actin' so weird about?" "Can I help change your bandages?" Rachel asked simply, as if she were merely commenting on the weather. "Huh?" Zack blinked in surprise, and then tossed Rachel a roll of bandages. "Sure, knock yourself out." Rachel caught the bandages, holding them tightly between her hands. He wasn't even embarrassed or put out by her sudden offer. But did she want him to be? Had she wanted a different reaction? She wasn't certain anymore. Still, she'd offered to help, and she would stay true to her word. Zack began unwrapping the bandages at his stomach, and Rachel reached out to help. His hands were rough and impatient, nearly tearing at the bandages, while her hands were more careful and thorough. As the bandages fell away, she caught a glimpse of the scar across his stomach, and it had long since healed. In fact, Zack had told Rachel he'd gotten proper stitches while in police custody, and then grinned and said he liked her stitches better. She still didn't quite understand how he could think like that, but she couldn't help but smile at those words. Her knuckles brushed against his bare chest as she undid more of his bandages, and he held out his arms so that she could unwrap them too. He watched her intently but said nothing, so she said nothing either. Maybe a normal girl would've been embarrassed by doing something like this, but she'd long ago accepted the fact she was never going to be "normal." She and Zack were outsiders, outcasts from proper society, and they had only each other. Put like that, it almost sounded like a twisted love story. Rachel's hands froze, and suddenly her cheeks burned. What was she thinking? A sinful girl like her couldn't be capable of love…! "Huh, what's with you all of a sudden?" Zack said, patting Rachel's hair. "Ah, well, I can get the rest myself." He reached up and undid the rest of the bandages around his neck and face, letting the dirty cloth fall to the floor. "I got a little distracted, that's all," she muttered. He let out a dark laugh. "By this? You're just as fucked up as ever." Rachel forced herself to meet Zack's uneven gaze, and her eyes trailed downwards. She'd seen his burn scars countless times, and even the first time she had seen them in their entirety she hadn't felt disgusted. His flesh was rough and charred, and often she longed to feel that scarring for herself. She gulped; what was happening to her? "Hey," Zack snapped, scowling. "Hurry up before I freeze my ass off." Rachel was silent as she unraveled a clean roll of bandages. Zack's scarring didn't extend far beyond his hips, so she started there and worked her way upwards. Applying bandages was more difficult than simply removing them, as she had to make sure they weren't too tight or too loose. Everything she had learned about first-aid was self-taught, but after traveling with Zack for so long, she'd grown fairly certain in her skills. When her parents had still been alive, she'd often found refuge in the local library, reading whatever medical books she could get her hands on, fantasizing about "fixing" her family. Even now, she often ducked into libraries and bookstores to read medical and first-aid books while Zack was off doing his own thing. Maybe it was wrong for a sinner, a murderer, like her to read such books, but she and Zack had made a promise, and until that day she would care for him however she could. "You're really into this," Zack sneered as Rachel wrapped bandages around his chest. "But I gotta say, you are better at it than me." "It's easier to have someone else do it than doing it yourself," Rachel said without thinking, and she could feel Zack's heartbeat beneath her hands. Soon her hands were at Zack's throat, and she was especially careful not to tie the bandages too tightly. As she felt the warmth of his rough skin against her fingertips, she hoped he didn't notice her hands trembling just slightly. Trying to stay calm, she bandaged his face, and she finished tying the final knot, her fingers brushed against his dark hair, and she let her touch linger just a little longer. Once Rachel was finished, Zack grabbed his hoodie and pulled it over his head. "You're pretty good at his," he said, flexing his bandaged fingers. "Shoulda let you help me with my bandages a long time ago." "It's nothing," Rachel whispered, and she found herself unable to meet Zack's gaze as she collected the used bandages, stained in sweat and blood. "Sheesh, you're still actin' weird." Zack rubbed the back of his neck, and then, without warning, laid his hand in Rachel's lap. She frowned. "What are you doing?" "It's cold and you're warm," he replied curtly. A heavy sigh slipped from Rachel's lips. Zack was acting strange too, she thought, but she chose not to say that out loud. Instead she laid her hand on Zack's hair, and he didn't resist. Once more silence fell over them, and Zack's breathing slowed and calmed, as if he had fallen asleep, and the scent of blood still filled Rachel's nose. Neither of them were "normal," and on this cold night like any other, they only had each other. An adult serial killer and a teenage girl who had renounced God - two sinners bound by blood, so to speak. But it couldn't last forever, she knew. Someday they would no longer have anywhere to hide or run to, and at the end… Rachel touched Zack's cheek, and he stirred. Until that day came they fulfilled their promise together, they could enjoy this unstable life. A slight smile tugged at her lips; to borrow Zack's words, she really was a twisted person if she could enjoy such a life with someone like him. Maybe that was a kind of love, however perverse it was. With her other hand she took his and brushed her lips against the back of it, and the clean bandages were soft to her touch. "I'm still awake, you know," Zack said, opening his eyes. "If you really think we're capable of love, then you're even more fucked up than I thought." Rachel clasped Zack's hand between hers. "I don't mind, as long as I'm with you." "And I guess I'm just as fucked up." Zack pulled the bandages from his mouth as he sat up, and he threaded the fingers of his free hand through Rachel's hair as he pressed his lips against hers. It was a hungry, unstable kiss, and Rachel gripped Zack's hoodie tightly to pull herself closer to him. When he finally took his lips from hers, she found her racing heart had yet to calm. Zack smirked. "And that's how you really kiss someone - even I know that much."