A/N: So, I saw Lucifer Season 3 Episode 11 last night. I definitely thought Amenadiel's outfits were... interesting. "Normal" man who's been robbed, window washer (seriously, he looked like John Coffey in that scene), and his dress/robe thing. Seriously, John Coffey's an angel, Amenadiel is an angel, and all I'm saying is that Tom Kapinos is totally a Stephen King fan.

You were horrified to sleep that night. When your clock turned to eleven fifty-nine P.M, your anxiety only got worse. You counted down the seconds until midnight, and when you heard the loud 'bongs' of the grandfather clock downstairs, you tightened the blanket around you.

The house went silent after the grandfather clock's helpful shouts. Well, for a few moments, anyways. 

There was a sudden scream from downstairs, and you bolted out of bed. You might as well have thrown yourself down the stairs with how elegantly you ran. Jason was close behind, 'running' just about as fast as you. 

When you reached the first floor, you rushed to D/B/F/N and D/B/F/W/N's bedroom door. You tried hard to open it, but it was locked tight. You banged on the door and shouted for them to open the door as they both screamed. Jason moved you out of the way and kicked the door open. 

D/B/F/W/N was dead. The bedspread, which was white, was now marbled with red, and her head had been posted on the center knob of the bedframe. Michael was currently hitting B/D/F/N with her leg. It appeared as if Michael had thrown the rest of D/B/F/W/N at her prior. 

You ran into the room, screaming. Michael turned suddenly and gave you a quick, hard shove, and you flew backwards into Jason. He fell down against the wall. Well, actually, he fell down through the wall. Blood flew out from his head, and judging by how his head was hanging, he was dead. 

You scrambled off of the legs of the now-deceased Jason and looked back at Michael just in time to hear a pained scream from D/B/F/N before it suddenly stopped. You froze; you couldn't move. You were just... paralyzed, suddenly. 

Michael bent down and picked up what was definitely the decapitated head of D/B/F/N. Michael moved his arm backwards and flung the head of your caregiver at you. 

________________

You sat up, covered in sweat. The clock read eight oh-two AM, and for a moment, you accused the clock of lying. 

"You're lying." You gasped, picking up the little clock. You checked to see if you had pressed one of the buttons in your sleep, but no. Everything was in place. 

You looked out the window, and saw D/B/F/N talking with a familiar face in the driveway. The familiar face looked up at you and waved like a happy little kid. 

"Sam..." You whispered, smiling.

You threw on some outfit and rushed downstairs, barely getting your shirt on correctly before opening the door. 

"Oh, hey, Y/N. How's you sl-" Jason began. He was seated at the counter, sipping a cup of iced coffee. 

"Not well." You hurriedly replied. 

"Oh. Do you know w-" 

"Nope. Talk later!" You called as you burst out through the front door. 

You saw Jason's confused face, followed by a shrug, as the door shut. 

"Sam!" You cried. 

"Y/N!" He smiled. "How've you been? It's only been, oh, just over twenty-four hours, but still." 

"I've been fine. Listen, I need to talk to you about something." You replied. 

"Yes, of course. D/B/F/N, is there somewhere we could talk privately?" Sam asked, turning to D/B/F/N. 

"Uh, yeah. The barn's pretty quiet, although it smells. You could walk around in the woods, or the cellar. Yeah, the cellar's very quiet. We don't go down there unless we need tools or wine, so just be aware of all the spiders you'll probably find." D/B/F/N put his hands on his hips, grimaced, and did the typical dad-nod. "You should be good to go down there." 

Sam nodded and D/B/F/N showed you to the doors. They were around the back of the house, and even the lock looked rusty. It looked like it had been hurt badly in Mount Vesuvius' eruption in Pompeii. 

You and Sam made your way down the steps, and D/B/F/N shut the door behind you. 

"Hey, when you're done, just give the doors a real good shove and they'll open up, okay?!" D/B/F/N shouted from ground level. "They get stuck sometimes!" 

"Okay!" You shouted back. 

Sam pulled a chain to a light on the ceiling and realized he was incredibly close to what looked to be a very expensive wine rack. He stood, examining it for a moment, before letting out a confused, "Huh". 

"What?" You asked. 

"Well, it's funny. See, wine rack's don't usually have hinges on them, but this one does. There's no handle, though, so it's not a secret tunnel or anything. Anyways, what would you like to discuss?" Sam stepped away from the wine rack and folded his hands. 

"Michael's here. And, before you get out your revolver, let me fill you in." You interrupted Sam's process of removing his revolver from his trench-coat pocket, and he begrudgingly put it back. 

"He came into my room and told me that he was going to take me away from here. I said no, and that I liked it here. He said, quote, "Fine, we'll do this your way" and I don't know what my way is." 

"Well, what happened after?" 

"He jumped out of my window and landed on the bush beneath it. I can prove it, too. There's a Michael-shaped dent in it." You said. "Would you like to see?" 

"Show me when we get back up. Did you see where he went after?" Sam asked. 

"No. I turned away and looked back and then he was gone." 

"Yes, well, in my many years of knowing Michael, I've learned that he has a tendency to do that. You know, disappearing into thin air. Have you told the agents?"

"No, and I don't want to." You firmly replied, fully expecting Sam to accuse you of losing your mind. 

"Have you lost your mind?" He hissed. "We have to tell the agents! They're here to protect you, and if you don't tell them that Michael's here, they can't do that!" 

"Please, calm down. I have an idea." You said. 

"It better not be to kill him." 

"Well, have I got some bad news for you." 

________________

You had filled Sam in on your plan. With some hesitation, he agreed to help. He told D/B/F/N that he was going into the town to get a burger from a place a friend had recommended (really, all he did was look up Best Burger Joints Near Me and chose the first one) and left. Only you and him knew that he wasn't getting a burger. 

"Y/N, hey, can we talk?" Jason asked when you came back inside. He was still seated at the counter. 

"Yeah, sure. Sorry, Sam Loomis was outside and I really needed to talk to him. What's up?" 

He grabbed your forearm gently and pulled you within whispering distance. He looked around, just to make sure nobody was listening before beginning. "I need you to do me a favor. I can do something for you in return, but just help a brother out. Please?" 

"Hang on, what do you even need me to do?" 

Jason looked around again. "I'm sneaking out to go to a party tonight. D/B/F/N and D/B/F/W/N always go to this big Halloween party at the community center, so I need you to stay and pass out candy. Please? We don't get many kids up this way, but just in case?" 

"Well, I didn't have any plans because I don't have any friends here, so I planned on doing that anyways." You replied. 

"Oh, thank God!" He sighed. "What can I do for you in return? Anything." 

You thought for a moment before replying. 

"Okay..." "Uh hu..." "Yeah. Yeah, I can do that." 

"Great. Hey, keep this to yourself though, okay?" You asked. 

"Scouts' honor." Jason held up three fingers and smiled. 

You returned the gesture and went upstairs to get ready. You had a big night ahead of you, and you had no time to waste. 

________________

By the time six o'clock had rolled around, Sam was back. After managing to convince the agents that everything was okay and that they would be good to go back home, Sam handed you a box. 

"Everything's in here. If you need help with anything, just shout, okay?" 

"Yeah. Thanks." You smiled at Sam before heading up into your bedroom. 

"Vest... wig... contacts... sweater... liquid latex... makeup... picture... okay. Okay, everything's here." You muttered to yourself, undressing. You weren't too thrilled to have to wear an itchy sweater, but you knew that you had to suck it up. "For the greater good" is what you kept telling yourself. 

The vest was quiet easy. It was snug, but wasn't uncomfortable. You couldn't even see it under the sweater. The makeup was what bothered you. 

In the end, Sam had to do it. You just couldn't get the skin right. The wrinkles just weren't good enough. But, by the time Sam managed to get it right, it was well passed ten, and you had, surprise, surprise, no trick or treaters. 

"Are you ready?" Sam asked, standing behind you as you looked at yourself in the mirror. 

"Honestly, no. But, I guess I kind of have to be." You tucked the picture into your pocket, but not before looking at it one last time. 

A/N: That picture was unreasonably to find.

"Oh, here. Take this." Sam pulled a switch-blade out of his pocket and handed it to you. "Just in case." 

You walked downstairs and out the back door, while Sam went down into the basement and pushed aside the desk in front of the passage. 

"Michael?" You called out into the cold air. "Michael, are you there?" 

Nothing. Well, what'd you expect? He can't talk. 

"Michael, it's Laurie. Remember me? I haven't see you in so long." You faked a breaking voice and heard a shuffle from the trees maybe ten feet away. 

"Michael?" You called out to the trees. 

Cooper walked out from behind the trees and bounded over to you. He was the happiest little dog you'd ever seen. 

"Oh, aren't you cute?" You sat on the floor and played with the puppy for a minute, wondering who in their right mind would abandon such a cute, innocent little puppy. 

You heard a grunting from behind you, and you turned around. 

"Michael!" You gasped. "Michael, where were you? I haven't seen you in so long!" You pulled out the picture from your pocket. "Do you remember when we took this picture? Well, I don't, but I look at it every day." 

Michael took the picture from your hands and looked at it. You heard something of a choking sound from behind the mask, and you knew that he was crying. 

"It's alright, Michael." You put a hand on his back, a consoling hand. It was genuine. "Michael, let's run away together. Nobody could find you, and we could be happy. I've missed you. I've missed so much. We could catch up, couldn't we? There's a lot to catch up on." You chuckled. 

Michael handed the picture back, nodding slowly. 

"Okay. Okay, great. Come on, let's go. I saw a car in the garage. We could take it. We could go anywhere in the world. Where do you want to go?" You asked, taking Michael's incredibly large hands. 

He dropped your hands to write his response. 

"Yes! I love snow. And we could stop at land marks on the way. Maybe in Seattle, we could eat dinner in the Space Needle. Wouldn't that be amazing?" You asked. 

Michael nodded. 

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!" You saw Sam throw the little oval from his position just outside the cellar doors and immediately booked it as far away from Michael as you could. 

You watched as the grenade hit Michael's shoulder and land in front of him. He tilted his head at it, and made like he was going to run. He was just a second too late, and you watch as Michael Myers was blown apart. 

A/N: One last chapter after this! Well, really, an epilogue, but still!