𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕚𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟

"Not so fast."

It felt like the world stopped turning. For a split-second, you were convinced that it actually had as you watched two tall figures, one wielding a matte black pistol, swagger onto the stage.

Mickey's deranged grin slackened and he whipped his head around to glare at whoever interrupted him at the peak of his droning monologue about the roots of his psychosis and obsessive tendencies. With your aggressor distracted, you threw your head away from the cut of his knife and dared yourself to back up to a safe distance.

The shadows melted away from the newcomers' faces and you swore that if you weren't still out of breath from running, you would have audibly gasped.

Billy's finger twitched against the trigger, not forcefully enough to send a bullet flying but just so you could hear the mechanism click into place. "No good sequel ever surpasses the original," he drawled, head tilted downward to cast a dark shadow over his eyes. "Didn't you learn anything in that film class of yours, Mickey?"

The way he said his name like it was venom on his tongue made you shiver. Despite the fact that he was standing right in front of you, his presence seemed so unreal. Like he was just a trick of the light or a stress-induced hallucination of some kind. He looked like he had walked right out of your memories of the massacre when he left you on that kitchen counter with nothing but a broken ankle and a swift kiss goodbye.

You only decided to believe that Billy was, in fact, real when your eyes darted upwards to see the taller boy standing not even a full foot behind him. Stu's lips were curled upwards in a dangerous snarl that was pointed directly at Mickey. He wasn't armed (that you could tell), but the murder in his eyes was just as threatening as a gun to the face.

Not wanting to waste your opportunity to walk away with your life, you used the last of your dwindling energy to duck under Mickey's arm and sprint across the wooden stage. You could feel his fingers swipe at the back of your shirt, but any terror you felt was immediately replaced by the warm, secure feeling of Billy's arms wrapping around your figure.

You wanted to stay there forever, committing the feeling of being sheltered in his warmth to memory as security washed over you, nearly causing relieved tears to collect in your eyes. You were safe. You were finally safe.

But not quite.

Without taking his eyes off of your attacker, Billy toggled with the trigger, gesturing with the barrel of the gun for him to drop his knife while at the same time lowering his face to register a quick, confirming kiss to the top of your head.

Refusing to accept defeat, Mickey melodramatically flicked his wrist, letting the knife fly off behind his head before bringing his arms up to the level of his eyes, flexing his fingers neurotically like he was still itching to get his hands back on you. "Well," he chuckled, "I'm obviously doing something right if my little performance got the attention of Billy fucking Loomis."

Something resembling a deep growl thundered in the back of Billy's throat and he squeezed his free hand around your waist one last time before nudging you back behind him out of harm's way, effectively passing you off to Stu who was quick to capture you in what was perhaps the tightest hug you ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

The tears came freely now, forming rivers in the rivets of your face and collecting in the fabric of Stu's shirt. He smelled just like your teddy bear did but stronger, confirming every thought you had regarding their presence at school this year. 

"Stu," you sobbed softly, your heart fluttering as he wrapped his arms even tighter around you at the sound of his name falling from your lips like a prayer. Your boys were taller than they had been the last time you saw them, but that was really the only difference you could identify on the spot.