A/N: My cat died in her sleep last night. It's consoling to know she's not hurting anymore, but don't be surprised if, at some point, chapters slow down to the speed of a grandmother. Death usually hits me some months after the occurrence. RIP Lucy.

Sam had you make a list of everyone you had beef with (that wasn't already dead) within a twenty-mile radius of Haddonfield. Well, that was easy. You didn't know many people, and you had moved from out-of-state.

"Okay, let's see. Doctor Hoffman, I agree with. That old quack still owes me fifty bucks. James Meed; does he work with Hoffman?"

"Yeah. He didn't believe me and then said he'd re-run the tests he took on me."

"Oh. Terry Fortis, I remember him. You know, his last name is Latin for 'Strong', so I'm not surprised that he's a guard. Michelle Bartley, who's that?"

"Only the worst teacher I've ever had. Boring, rude, disgusting, give me a rude adjective and it probably describes her."

"...Oh. And this last man on the list, he's the one who killed Jesse, right?"

"Yep. Tommy's dad. Michael Brandyn."

"Well, Jessica, I think his wife's name is, paid his bail and gave Sherriff Morgan and Deputy Willy quite a hard time. Pretty sure she was fined for it. I'm not sure. Anyways, I need to get this list to Sherriff Morgan. We've got to get these people on 'round the clock watch."

Sam stood from his spot on the couch and grabbed his umbrella. He opened the front door and turned to you.

"Well, are you coming?" He asked.

"I don't think they'd want to see me." You replied. "The dislike it mutual in all cases. I'm sure Michael Brandyn hates me more than I hate him."

"That's a fair reason to stay. Why don't you make yourself some lunch? It's nearly one." Sam closed the door, popped open his umbrella, and waddled down the driveway.

You were, once again, home alone. Aunt A/N and Uncle U/N were at work, Sam was on his way to get some people away from death, and you were standing in the living room, watching the hideous storm outside.

A/N: The weather over here is absolutely atrocious. We've lost power sometimes, and it was raining sideways last night because of the wind. My neighbors have these big evergreen trees in their backyards, and I can see them from my window. I'm surprised they're still standing with 40 MPH winds.

Five minutes passed, and you finally managed to tear your eyes from the frightening storm. You decided to take Sam's advice and make yourself some lunch. However, just as you grabbed the box of macaroni noodles, there was a knock at the door.

Muttering about how you just wanted to eat, you walked over to the front door and opened it. Nothing. Nobody was there. Not even a package or somebody's animal trying to get out of the rain.

Another knock came, and you slammed the door shut. Either somebody was at the back door, or your house was haunted by a door-to-door salesman. Praying that it wasn't the latter, you opened the back door and didn't appreciate the guest.

Michael stepped inside, having to duck a bit. He looked around, then nodded. Apparently, he liked what you had done to the place.

"Can I help you?" You asked.

"Figured what out?"

"Yeah, about that. How are we related?"

"Oh. Alright then. Is that all?"

"Well, then, what do you need?"

"Because murder is very rude, and I'd rather put up with it than know that I'm the reason they're dead."

"You mean. 'You wouldn't be. I would.', right?"

Michael stood up and walked out the back door as if he hadn't just told you that Sam was too late. Once the door closed, you ran over to it and locked it as fast as you could. Shaking, you pulled out your phone and called Sam.

"Hello?"

"Come home."

"Why?"

"You're too late."

_______________

"So Michael just- came in, told you that you're second cousins and that I was too late, and then left." Sam inquired, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Pretty much. Now what do we do? He's got nobody else to go for."

"He's going to go for the real centers of his rage. Laurie, your aunt and uncle, and me."

"But- but he said-"

"I know what he said, but it's Michael Myers. It doesn't care about anyone or anything. In all honesty, you probably aren't safe, either."

Silence. What were you supposed to say to that? 'Gee, that's very reassuring. Thanks, Sam'?

"Look. Everybody who's breathing in Haddonfield is in danger whether you like it or not. It's never going to die. We can try all we want, but it won't do any good. All we can do is protect the people in this town."

"Well, how do we protect them?"

"Y/N, do you know what In Loco Parentis means?"

"No, but it sounds French."

"Latin. The literal translation is I am acting of a parent. If put into proper English, it means Acting in the role of a parent. We have to act as a parent to all the people in this town and protect them like a parent protecting their child. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Yes, I do. But, how do we do that?"

"Have you ever read A Series of Unfortunate Events?"

"Yes."

"Then, we'll have to make a Versed Fighting Division."

"That sounds like a Very Frightening Design."