LEATHER AND LARK | Billy Loomis
Summary: After a visit to a potential witness turns deadly, YN seals her fate by calling the one person she knows she shouldn’t
Pairing: Ex!Billy Loomis x Cop!Reader
Warnings: All of them. Death, toxic relationship between reader and Billy, he loves her in his own weird way. This whole thing is a character assassination on principal Himbry
The parking lot was deserted when she pulled in next to Himbry’s Cadillac. Figures he was working late. Nothing could ever be easy, could it?
She tapped her fingernails against her steering wheel, chewing on her bottom lip. The collar of her leather jacket was flicked up to cover the bruises that her night with Billy had left.
It was bullshit that she couldn’t get him out of her head. It’s not like he had even been that great a partner when they were together. After all, he had cheated on her with Sidney Prescott right before she graduated.
Hence why she had tried to light the stage on fire. Ideally, she had hoped that Himbry would have assumed that Billy had done it.
She turned off her engine, stepping out of the car and striding quickly towards the front doors of the school. Four years at Woodsboro High told her that the door would be unlocked, and she felt vindicated to realize that she was right. Terrible security measure, if you ask her.
The heels of her boots echoed around the hallway as she headed straight for his office. The light was on, and she could see his silhouette behind the frosted glass.
“Son of a bitch.” She muttered, opening the door.
She had become quite familiar with Himbry’s office during her time there. Her disciplinary file was the size of a novel, and she knew it was kept in a locked drawer in Himbrys desk.
She’d heard the rumors. The students speculating that the college dropout beat cop who doused her ex’s new girls car in pigs blood was the one who had murdered Casey Becker.
“YN.” Himbry’s head shot up. “I wondered when you’d be stopping by.”
“Don’t fuck around, Himbry.” She snapped. “I know you’re the one who started the rumor about me killing Casey. Where do you get off, huh?”
“I knew you were trouble from the first day that you got hauled into my office, kid.” Himbry shook his head. “With a record like yours, I’d be surprised if you didn’t kill Casey.”
“I was working.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Talk to Dewey Riley.”
Himbry shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe you and the deputy were in it together.”
“Stop fucking around!” She roared, slamming her palms down on the table. “Where’s my fucking juvenile file? I’m not a minor any more, you can hand the damn thing over.”
And I want Billy’s, too. He was nineteen, she was twenty-one. There was no need for Himbry to keep both of them.
Why did she want to protect him? The hunting n for she found in his room was buried at the back of the closet while she tried to figure out the best way to take it to Dewey without admitting that she broke chain of custody.
Soundlessly, Himbry stood up from the desk, pacing around it so he stood right in front of her. He stepped closer, backing her against the desk, a stab of fear hitting deep in her chest.
“What are you going to do for it?”
“Not kick your ass.” She swallowed, trying to hide her fear and unease.
Himbrys hand shot out quicker than she could stop it, wrapping tightly around her throat as he forced her small body against the table, her head hitting the side of his computer monitor in the way down.
“Get off me!” She wheezed, feeling her windpipe begin to constrict.
“Someone should have forced some obedience into you years ago.” Himbry grunted. She could smell the whisky on his breath.
Shaking and feeling her vision go blurry, she blindly groped the desk, desperately kicking out her feet, hoping to catch him off balance. Her fingers closed around a pair of scissors. She gripped them firmly, bringing the tip of the blade down against his shoulder, pressing until she felt the blade pierce his skin.
If she had left it at that, she could have pleaded self defence. But there was no justification for what she did next.
When Himbry let her go, she pushed him to the ground, straddling his hips as she brought the bloodied scissors down against the soft flesh of his stomach, stabbing him repeatedly. He groaned in pain, and she didn’t stop stabbing until she was covered in his blood and he had stopped thrashing beneath her.
She screamed, a painful, mournful sound as she got to her feet, the scissors falling out of her blood-slicked hands.
She had just killed a man.
She was no better than Billy Loomis.
Her hands fumbled with the rotary phone on the desk. She had two options, but the way she saw it, there was only one. Her fingers left bloodied prints on the dial as she spun his number, waiting for him to answer.
“Billy, I need you. Himbry is dead. I think I killed him.”
Billy found her sitting in one of the uncomfortable arm chairs across from the principals desk, a place reserved for children awaiting disciplinary action. She was covered in blood, and her hands were shaking. Her eyes were drawn closed, as if she was purposely trying to look away from the mess she had made.
“Christ, YN!” Stu Macher shouted “What the hell did you do to the guy?”
“Shut the fuck up, Stu!” Billy barked. His expression turned soft as she crouched in front of her, calloused fingers turning her chin so he could get a look at the marks on her neck. “Did he hurt you?”
She forced herself to look up from the floor, her scared eyes meeting his icy ones. “He tried to. I stopped him.”
Stu looked over at the body. “Babes, I think this goes far beyond the rules of self defence. Like how many stab wounds even is that?”
“Shut up, Stu!”
Billy took her hands in his, and she watched weakly as the drying blood on her palms transferred to his skin.
“Stand up for me, sweetheart.” He said softly, rising to his feet. “There you go.” “Stand up for me, sweetheart.” He said softly, rising to his feet. “There you go.”
Her legs felt weak, and she refused to look behind her, dare she see Himbry’s rapidly cooling corpse. Billy examined her clothes, using a tissue from Himbry’s desk to try and wipe some blood off her leather jacket.
“Burn everything except the jacket.” He concluded. “Stu, you take care of Himbry. Make it look like we did it. YN, where are your car keys?”
“Here.” She croaked, reaching into her jacket pocket to find the keys for her Mazda. Her hands shook as she passed them to Billy. “What are you going to do?”
“Drive you home. You’re in no fit state.”
“What were you even doing here?” Stu asked, crouching down to examine the body.
“I wanted my juvenile file back.” She said, voice cracking. “It’s sealed, so they weren’t able to use it against me when I applied to the force. But someone started a rumor that I killed Casey and Steve, and it’s spread like wildfire. I wanted to shut it down before I lost my job.”
Meekly, she allowed Billy to rest his hand in the small of her back, leading her back towards her car. She leaned into the comfort, cursing herself for taking what she could get, when she could get it.
He unlocked her car, checking to make sure the blood she was covered in had dried. Dissatisfied, he grabbed the Mexican blanket from her back seat and draped it over the passenger seat.
“I can’t believe I’m taking advice from someone who repeated junior year twice.” She grumbled, reluctantly allowing Billy to drive her home.
“You weren’t exactly valedictorian either.” Billy shot back, pulling out of the school parking lot.
“I probably could have been if I’d spent less time fucking around with you.”
She weakly gave him directions to her apartment, slouching into her seat in defeat. All she could think about was the sound that Himbry made when she stabbed him, playing on repeat in her head. She couldn’t even drown it out with the radio.
“Let me take you up the back way. I don’t want anyone seeing you here.”
Of course, there was the small issue of the fact that he was still with Sidney Prescott. She didn’t want to fuck yo the investigation and also be accused of being a home wrecker at the same time.
She drew her jacket tightly over her chest, hiding her bloody hands in her pockets as she lead Billy up to her apartment, wordlessly letting him in.
“You’re a mess.” Billy frowned, staring at her in the half light. “Go have a shower. Leave your bloody clothes by the door. I’ll take care of them.”
She trembled under the hot water of the shower. She could faintly hear Billy moving around the apartment, and knew there was no going back now. Not as a man’s blood flakes off her flesh and down the drain of her shower. Not as Billy Loomis made himself at home in her studio apartment, fully aware of the sin she had committed.
When she came out of the shower, her pile of bloodied clothes was gone, and Billy was sitting at the foot of her bed, twirling his buying knife in his hand.
The hunting knife that she had found hidden behind the baseboards in his bedroom, which likely had the blood of Casey Becker and Steve Orth all over the blade.
“I’ll be taking this back now.” Billy smiled. “Just a little mutually assured destruction.”
“Fuck you.”
“As I can recall, that’s how you got my knife in the first place.” He smirked. “I like your apartment. It feels very you. More than your room at your parents house ever did.”
She said nothing, staring him down as she moved to sit next to him. Try as she might, there was no hiding the trembling in her hands.
“Hey,” Billy’s voice was soft. “Look at me. You did what you had to do.”
“Maybe the first or second time I stabbed him. Not the seventh or eighth.”
“Or twelfth.” Billy added. “I counted the stab wounds.”
“Go fuck yourself.” She huffed, but there was no malice in it. “Can you stay? I don’t want to be alone.”
“Of course.” His touch was soft as he brushed her hair behind her ear, and she hated herself for leaning in to it as he kissed her forehead, the feeling of his lips on her skin sending shivers down her spine.
His actions were tender as he placed the knife on her nightstand, helping guide her weak body down onto the bed and under the mountain of blankets.
She didn’t meet his eyes as he slotted in behind her, muscular arms wrapped comfortingly around her waist. She sighed, sinking back into his touch.
This was the Billy Loomis that she had missed.
“Turn yourself in.” Her voice was ragged with exhaustion. “If this keeps going, it’s just going to be worse for you and Stu.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“You’ll get yourself shot.”
“I’ll go out in a blaze of glory.”
Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe Woodsboro would be a better place without Billy Loomis in it.
It’s not like she could turn him in. The information he had on her now would end her career before it even started.
How many more lines would she cross before his killing spree was over?
