Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The dark night of Halloween was devoid of any visible stars, and the moon was hidden for the most part behind the clouds, as if it was afraid to come out and be witness to the events that are certain to happen at Haddonfield. The winds whispered warnings to the townsfolk brave enough to venture outside, and the atmosphere inside the homes was heavy with fear.

Before she even had time to prepare for the case of it not working, it was over. The exorcism/breaking of the curse that, allegedly, caused Michael to go on an incessant hunting of his kin every Halloween. That, allegedly, filled him with such an intense rage and malice that it drowned every other aspect of his humanity, and made him a demon.

They are all at the living room of the Myers house, where it all began. The remaining furniture was all cast aside to make space for the circle, making the place messier than it already was, although this wouldn’t be visible from the outside, being obscured by curtains on bolted down windows and closed doors. It wasn’t hard to drag him there, but it took almost everyone currently in the room to disarm and bind him, their struggle evident on the fact that his legs are still free. Though Michael didn’t stand quick enough to stop them from starting the exorcism, freezing him in place as the curse fought for control.

If this was at an earlier point in her life, Laurie would be skeptic of the cloak clad group that knocked on her door a week before Halloween, saying they could end her yearly nightmare for good. But now, she was open to try anything to stop her brother of going after her, and murdering anyone who ended up on his path, so if they offered to shoot him with a rocket launcher her only condition would be to be the one to pull the trigger.

At the time, thinking of the big bad Shape of Haddonfield blowing up to pieces brought a smile to her face and a feeling of satisfaction growing on her chest.

That remained as just a comforting fantasy though, and now said shape was standing in the middle of a circle drawn at the center of the room they managed to lure him into, motionless, surrounded by people, some still murmuring prayers, although less fervently than before. Since the beginning of the cleansing ritual he hasn’t moved an inch, not a twitch or even the motion of breathing on his chest, looking like those statue novelties at Halloween stores, just waiting for some poor person to step close and activate his motions.

Laurie recalled one of the priests…? – Whatever they were, they didn’t tell her much about what religion they practiced, so she couldn’t be sure if they were indeed priests – trying to calm her growing nerves, reassuring her that they would do everything in their power to bring her brother back, and she started wondering, still in the corner she pressed herself into, not to be seen by Michael, if her brother still exists at all. It’s not as if she would be able to tell, as she doesn’t know Michael the human as he was at 6 years old, although she knows Michael the boogeyman all too well. Maybe it won’t be so hard to pick on any change in attitude, he barely has one at all.

With this conclusion in mind, she slowly comes out of the shadowed corner, rounding up Michael, who is having the chains removed from his arms and is still unresponsive, putting everyone on edge.

“What did you do to him?” Laurie asks to the closest priest, as the others start collecting the artifacts used to store them in their places. She looks around, then back to the priest. “Did it work? Is he cured?”

The priest puts one hand on her shoulder, looking at her with tired eyes. “The demon is gone, that is sure. But we cannot say if the boy is still there.” With his other hand now on the small of her back, he guides her to stand in front of Michael, almost at arm’s reach. “I suppose only you may be able to wake him.”

Now that she is closer to him, she can finally see the faint movement of breathing, indicating that he’s not a standing corpse as she imagined before, and dragging her gaze up towards his mask, she holds it towards his eyes, which are obscured by shadows. His head is lightly tilted down.

She takes a deep breath.

“Michael.” Her expression is firm and determined, but she can’t stop the jolt of instinctive fear that passes through her, manifested in the twitch of her hands and shoulders when he slowly lifts his head, retuning her gaze. Laurie can see his eyes a little bit now, they are unfocused, and she has to suppress another flinch when he inhales deeply, almost like a gasp, but very slowly, as if breathing faster would tear his lungs.

He drops his head again, breathing picking up as he slowly lifts his hands, looking at them for some time. Laurie takes a step back as he balls them into fists, breathing heavily now. The only thing keeping her from bolting is the priest, who has a death grip on her shoulder. Everyone has their eyes locked on Michael, anticipating for the worst.

She never wanted a weapon so badly in her life. This was such a stupid idea she almost felt like she deserved whatever Michael might do to kill her. She is starting to tremble, flight instinct manifesting as the adrenaline coursing through her body. She wants to push the priest and dive for the shotgun she left in the kitchen for this moment, the moment where it all will go to shit. He is still grasping her with all his might and she is about to turn and put her now sweaty hands in his chest when she hears it.

A loud thud that kicks dust from the floor as Michael lands painfully on his knees, folding over like tree from the strong winds, his palms facing upwards in front of him – She can see in his right wrist the Thorn symbol, now faded to a scar, almost invisible. – He is shaking more with each shallow breath, not looking up, as if he is afraid to face her eyes on him.

He doesn’t keep his head bowed for long though, and as he lifts it, so does his hands, palms still upwards resembling a prayer, and Laurie can see in his eyes that he must be doing just that. And she has never seen someone show so much emotion just from their eyes before, getting her so much off guard that she barely caught on his first word, with a small and hoarse voice from disuse, edging on a whisper and a sob at the same time.

“….Laurie….”

He felt as if he was under a storm.

The strong winds drowning the squelching sound of flesh as it is cut with a knife, and the heavy rain washing away the blood and remains he can’t be bothered to clean himself.

The thunder deafening the screams.

It was calming, numbing, and silenced the roars of rage in his mind, for the most part.

He can’t feel his body, just the wind and the rain and thunder. Maybe the winds are dragging him away. Weightless.

It’s the calmest he has felt for a long time.

He hears another thunder, the loudest of them all by far. It kind of sounds like his name.

“Michael.”

He opens his eyes. There is a headache coming that he ignores.

The wooden floors are the first thing in his sight. He hears gasps and creaking of wood around him. There is a tightness in his chest that he can’t be bothered with at the moment, more curious at what is ahead of him. Shoes.

There are two pairs of shoes in front of him, one bigger and more formal than the other, and there are legs attached to them. He slowly looks up.

There is a man he doesn’t know, using a white dress shirt and formal dark pants, some type of religious amulet around his neck that he holds in one of his hands like a lifeline. The other hand on the other person’s shoulder, gripping it with force. The other person–

The person is Laurie.

She is all that he can see, how she is barely holding her strong expression, her fingers twitching and chest tensely rising and falling, trying to control her breathing. That makes him aware of how he is increasingly feeling more like he is being strangled, having less and less oxygen to feed on his racing brain, the tightness of his chest growing by the second.

He let’s himself take a cautious deep breath, the awareness coming back to him like a punch to his gut, he almost faints right there.

The curse didn’t let him feel, it smothered his emotions and filled his brain with intention from another being he didn’t comprehend, leaving him with conscience but no emotions to process it. It felt like an out of body experience, like he was watching one of those horror movies from those midnight Halloween marathons.

To those emotions to come to him all at once.

He can’t take it.

He looks down at his hands, and he can almost see the blood dripping, he can almost feel the cold texture from the knife handle, the soft skin from someone’s throat, the artery pulsing fast under his palms, the trachea being crushed under his fingers–

He closes his hands so hard his blunt nails might leave a mark. Anything to stop these feelings, this ice being plunged into his stomach and crushing weight in his chest. He needs to breathe.

Oh God, he killed all those people.

He killed Judith.

He can’t take it anymore.

His legs give out, and he goes to the floor. He barely registers the pain in his knees, his vision is darkening and his head is swimming, trying to keep him at the surface of the flood of blood that is filling his thoughts. He can’t breathe.

The guilt pushes him further, directing his gaze to the floor, where he sees Laurie’s shoes again.

Laurie.

He looks up at her, the light coming from the kitchen casting a glow around her, giving her the visage of an angel, and Michael can’t help but raise his trembling hands in desperation for forgiveness.

Please forgive me, Laurie.

Please.

Chapter Text

The ride back home was more unnerving than awkward.

Michael was seated beside her on the passenger seat, now without his mask – He has been unmasked for a while, since he tore if from his head like it was made out of acid – and looking out the window, which she supposes is better than staring straight ahead with a blank face and empty eyes, as Dr. Loomis had described to her one time. Speaking of the doctor, she would do anything just for him to be in the car with them at the moment, to fill the silence.

After the curse was broken and Michael had calmed down enough for them to start explaining to him what was going to happen, he had only said a couple of words, mostly to show he was paying attention and to agree with the rules he would have to follow to stay with Laurie. His only full sentence was to explain his lack of verbal response.

“Hurts too much.”

Good. Laurie thought, and had to use all of her self-control to stop this thought from coming out of her mouth, humming softly instead. Her brother had been completely cooperative until now, so she had to try and be accepting. God, it was hard though.

So hard, in fact, that she can’t even bring herself to talk to him, and to top it off, his lack of movement is getting to her. As she keeps glancing at him, her muscles tense in anticipation, and her knuckles get white from clenching the steering wheel, but she doesn’t let herself hyperventilate as she makes a conscient effort to keep her breathing in rhythm. Laurie thanks God for the empty road, because she would sure crash into someone with how little she was actually looking ahead.

Some long seconds pass until Michael sighs and sinks back in the seat, turning his head, still not looking directly at her. He has been feeling her eyes at his back for a while now, and it’s making him a little self-conscious, he understands her wariness of him though.

“ ‘m not gonna hurt you.” He murmurs, with a scratchy voice. Laurie glances at him, then back at the road again.

“I know.”

Michael’s brows furrows, and he finally gives his sister a confused stare. “Then why…” He lets his question trail off as his voice breaks a little.

It’s Laurie’s turn to sigh, as she tries to find the best way to explain, and Michael averts his eyes again, finding his hands much more interesting than the tired expression his sister has.

“It’s just- It’s the way you’re acting. You’re too tense, and it’s getting on my nerves.” She turns her eyes in time to catch a glimpse of him sliding further down the car seat, forcing himself to look more relaxed. “Now you just look like you’re trying to fuse with the seat.”

Michael snorts, and she allows herself a small smile.

“A+ for trying though.”

“Thanks.”

The ride finally turned from unnerving to a little awkward, and Laurie even lets Michael choose the station of the radio, regretting soon after as he keeps changing it before any of the songs have the chance to finish.

“Damn, did your attention span leave along with the curse?” Laurie breaks after listening to the 13th half of a song.

That makes Michael pause, his hand still on the radio button, which then presses a few times more before settling on a station, the first notes of some rock song filling the silence. The two didn’t bother to try and recognize the song, but it had a pleasant melody.

He goes back to slouching in his seat, and steals a glance at his sister before gazing back at the moving scenery.

“Sorry.. I was–” He clears his throat. “–trying to figure out what I like.”

“Didn’t have much time to listen to music before, huh.” Michael couldn’t figure out if it was a question or an affirmation, but he agreed nonetheless.

“Yeah.”

Laurie adjusted her hands on the steering wheel, sighing, aware that she can’t forget that Michael will now actually be able to react to her comments. He may be having a hard time expressing his feelings, so much that she can forget, but he has them now, and he is trying.

God knows when was the last time Michael listened to music.

“Sorry for snapping at you.”

He is quick to reply. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not.” She retorts. “I shouldn’t get annoyed at you for wanting to choose something you like.” Her brows furrow, and her hands grip the steering wheel tighter. “Come on! You just got free! And all I’ve done is complain to you, about you!”

Michael scoffs. That’s not true, he saw that she was trying to keep calm better than he ever could, when faced with the one that caused so much mayhem in her life. Those halfhearted complaints are nothing to what he envisioned happening to him before, and he even thinks she is being too civil, if he’s honest.

Who knows what he would do with his attempted murderer if he was in her place. He doesn’t like the images his mind conjures, so back to the conversation it is.

“It really is alright. I was expecting worse, actually.” He mumbles the last part, but that doesn’t stop Laurie from hearing it. His tone is light, and it surprises her. Could it be? Michael Myers joking around?

“Oh?” She turns to him. “What? Are you disappointed?”

He shrugs, and smirks.

“I would say that next time I’ll make sure to yell in your face, but I hope there’s never ever a next time.” Laurie relaxes a bit in her seat, going back to watching the road.

“Me too.” Michael sighs.

The next song starts, and Laurie recognizes it, barely keeping in a laugh.

“What are the odds?”

Her brother perks up, curious. “Hm?”

“Just listen.” They wait for the chorus.

“There's a killer on the loose again

A killer on the loose

There's a killer on the loose again

A ladykiller on the loose”

 

Michael frowns, and moves to turn off the radio.

"Enough music for today.” Interrupting Thin Lizzy in the middle of their song. Laurie can’t hold her laugh this time.

There’s a comfortable silence between them for the rest of the ride.

Chapter Text

To say the morning shift at the coffee shop is hell was an understatement, but luckily for the rest of the staff, Michael has some sort of familiarity with the situation, being a former demon himself.

Although he can't deny that this new job is just as stressful and much more annoying than his last. He is a creative person, and at least the eldritch creature possessing him before indulged his creativity. Nevermind that it was for gruesome purposes, let's not open this can of worms, he thought.

Still, these new bosses tolerate nothing beyond the established work routine, and he can feel it dulling his mind as each second passes, one longer than the other.

Michael looks up from his half made frappe and to the unending line of increasingly impatient customers, and wonders if he can be quick enough to shove something down his throat before someone tries to stop him. Choking is not a very pleasant way to go, and he surely could grab a knife without the others noticing, but he doesn't want to leave a mess for his co-workers to clean.

Screw the customers though. He doesn't get paid enough to care.

"Staring at the frappe won't scare it into finishing itself, Michael." He hears from behind him, and turns to look at one of his co-workers, Ana, a little high schooler who had the misfortune of getting the morning shift as her summer part time job. She is small, but very assertive when she wants to be, AND she's not scared of him.

How cool is that?

They stare at each other for a few moments.

"Well? Have some focus, my guy."

Michael nods and goes back to the frappe, finally finishing it and putting it at the counter without another word.

Another co-worker, a blonde guy named Kalel, takes it, reads the name and loudly calls for it. As the owner of the drink comes closer, the one before them comes back, and it's clear as day the malicious look of the woman, as if the future confrontation will be the highlight of her day.

Kalel, who is beside Michael, takes one look and slightly hides behind him, and he forces himself to not let out the biggest sigh of his life.

The called person takes their drink, and with a quiet thank you takes their leave, while the malicious woman takes their place and slams a half empty concoction that resembles a milk coffee, with an ungodly amount of various syrups Michael didn't bother to remember, on the counter.

That one was the worst drink he ever had the displeasure of making in his entire existence.

"Excuse me! Who made this?"

Michael looks down at her.

"I did."

She has to crane her neck to look him in the eyes, and he notices a slight break in her expression. A little bit intimidated, he supposes.

He's very good at picking up fear in people's expressions.

Her commitment is admirable though, since she doesn't turn tail, instead she squares up and stares back at him.

"Then you'd know that I specifically asked for skim milk. Skim. Why is it whole milk then?" She talks loudly and slowly to him. He holds back a frown, recognizing this tone from his time at Smith's Groove, an unforgiving place with an even less forgiving staff.

Dr. Loomis was the only sane person in that place. Maybe. He's not sure.

What he is sure of, is that there was one thing he kind of remembers being taught while at the care of Dr. Loomis.

Anger management.

"I must've misread it." Keeping eye contact with the angry woman, Michael takes the cup and dumps it unceremoniously in the trash, where it belongs. "I'll make you another one."

“As if you're not already obligated to do that.” She says with a sneer, and taps her fingers on the counter, leaning a bit. “What I want is some compensation for the inconvenience YOU-” She points her finger at his chest. “-caused me!”

What a bitch.

If he was half the demon he used to be, this woman would be lucky to keep the hand she is using to jab at his chest, and while he has eaten a lot of things in his career, the taste has been nullified most of the time. He looks at her hand.

Hm…

“What do you want?” He says instead, tilting his head. She looks taken aback, as if his reaction is not something she expected, and it’s not difficult for Michael to understand that she wanted him to fumble at her feet, scared of her for being able to get him fired or something.

”Be quick, there are other people waiting.” He starts remaking her drink.

She sputters for a moment, then straightens herself up.

“Your manager will know about your rudeness!” She narrows her eyes. “I want two strawberry doughnuts and a cake pop.”

Michael looks up from the caffeinated abomination.

“The best I can give you is either just the cake pop or a 5 dollar coupon.”

“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS!?” The woman pounds her fist on the counter as he makes a point of pouring skim milk into the cup right in front of her, unfazed by her outburst.

He finishes the drink and holds it out to her. “I WILL TALK TO YOUR MANAGER AND GET YOU FIRED I SWEAR TO GOD!!”

“Yes, I am.” He wiggles the drink a little in front of her eyes. “And swearing to God won’t get me fired, He has better things to worry about.”

She snatches the drink and looks at him like he is a stain in her wall, realizing she won’t get the reaction she wants from him.

“And don’t even know what you’re talking about.” She scowls.

“I know him.” He stares. “He has favorites. I’m not one of them, and neither are you. Do you want the cake pop or the coupon?”

She recoils, now with visible fear on her eyes. “Forget it! This is the last time I will place my foot in here!”

She promptly leaves, pushing some people on her way out. When she’s at the door, she holds her middle finger up without turning back and yells “Fuck you”, than finally leaves.

Everyone pauses for some seconds, but resumes routine after, and while Michael is in the middle of making a mocha Kalel turns to him.

“How the fuck do you do that man? It was so awesome and creepy.”

He shrugs, not taking his eyes off the drink. “It just came to me at the moment.”

Kalel calls a customer and hands their drink, turning back to Michael.

“Well, it was amazing. I wish I could deal with Karens like that, make them too afraid to come back.” He starts bagging some doughnuts. “You would be a great scare actor. Hey Ana!”

Said girl looks over at the two of them. “Yeah?”

“Wouldn’t Michael be a great scare actor?”

“Oh he would!” She says, nodding.

Michael says nothing, probably for the best.

“There are some haunted houses holding tryouts now that halloween is getting closer.” Kalel comments while wrapping the doughnuts. “Why don’t you try them out? Get some easy cash and have fun frightening teenagers.”

He giggles, Michael shrugs again.

“I prefer to just stay at home, relaxing.”

Ana sighs loudly. “All this scary aura and he prefers to sleep on halloween night, what a waste.” She shakes her head.

Michael grins. “What can I do? I don’t like halloween. And it’s not my fault I’m so scary”

He chuckles as he hears groans and the two calling him “Booooring.” and “Laaaaame.”

Chapter Text

He should've known that this would happen.

It wasn't that far fetched of an idea when he thought about it, but still, it didn't make the situation any easier to digest.
Laurie is pissed. Rightfully so, but not at him, he hopes. Specially since he's done nothing at all besides staying in all day and night, watching dumb horror movies and stuffing himself with cheap candy.

So why had Haddofield woken up to dead bodies the day after Halloween?

Hell if he knows.

What he knows is: He shut himself in Laurie's guest room, his room, after helping her decorate the front yard the day before, and then he went to bed early. So it's not his fault.

It really isn't.

But his sister is avoiding eye contact again and he thought that they had been making progress, but now he isn't so sure, and that is, in turn, making him mad. Not at her, he hopes.