"Dewey didn't need to do it for me, but he did."
.
.
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LAYLA HAD always been a runner. She loved the feeling of the wind in her hair and the gravel under her feet. It was the only time she felt truly free, the only time she could let go of her worries and just be. It had been something that her father had pushed her to do, a sport that she'd always had such a love for.
As Layla ran through the streets of Woodsboro, her heart pounding in her chest, she couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled over her like a thick fog. Any time that she had felt this sort of dread before, she knew it was irrational. But now? It seemed like her dread was a completely normal reaction to the events that were happening in her life.
She'd never quite had the fear of losing her loved ones before, since both of her parents had died before she was even old enough to fear the horrors of the world that they lived in. That being said, it had been consuming her lately. She loved Gale and Dewey like second parents now, and the thought of either of them getting hurt was killing her inside.
She thought of them like her parents, who were getting older with each passing year. They weren't in their physical prime like they had been when fighting off all the Ghostfaces previously, and what would she do if they died? How would she go on without them?
And Tara, Wes, Chad, Mindy, the rest of her friends - they all meant so much to her. The thought of losing any of them was too much to bear. Although she wasn't currently seeing eye to eye with her, Layla knew that even if Amber was killed that she wasn't sure how she would get over that.
As she ran, her breath coming in ragged gasps, Layla couldn't help but wonder if this fear was a sign of something deeper. Was she afraid of death itself? Or was it just the fear of being alone, of losing the people who made her life worth living?
She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. She knew she had to focus on the present, on the here and now. Contemplating which one of her friends were next to be killed by Ghostface wasn't going to save anyone. Layla ran faster, pushing herself to go harder, to forget her worries for a little while. But even as her legs pumped and her lungs burned, the fear remained. It was a constant companion, always lurking just beneath the surface.
Layla started to run across the road, so focused on her thoughts that she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. She looked up just in time to see the car hurtling towards her, its headlights blinding her. Her heart leaped into her throat as she stumbled back, narrowly avoiding being hit. Layla let out a stream of curses, bending over and placing her hands on her thighs as she tried to regain her breath.
Layla's heart was racing, and she could feel her pulse pounding in her ears. For a moment, she stood there, trembling, as she tried to get her head together. She was grateful to be alive, but the shock of the near-miss left her feeling even more unsteady than before.
The car slammed on the breaks, the driver rolling down the window as they went to hurl abuse at the girl before they realised who they had almost hit.
"What the fuck? Do you not watch where you're going?" Sam asked, her eyes angry before she recognised the girl when she looked up at her. The fresh tears on the sides of Layla's face told her that she had been running off a lot of emotions, and it reminded Sam of when they had just been kids in Woodsboro, before Ghostface had came back into their lives.
"Shut up, Sam," Layla replied, rolling her eyes as she began to storm down the sidewalk and away from the older Carpenter sister. She was still pissed that Sam was so suspicious of her being a killer when she had done nothing but try her best to protect Tara over the years.
She ignored as Sam shouted for her to come back and get into her car.
The grey car slowly pulled up alongside the girl as she continued to try and storm away.
"Get in," Sam repeated, motioning to the passenger seat as she waited for Layla to accept her offer. She sighed as the girl continued to stand with her arms crossed, not making any movement to get into the car. "Look, she might not want to see us but I'm going back to see Tara. Get in, or I'll leave you here."
_____
Sam drove the car down the empty suburban road, her knuckles straining as she gripped the steering wheel tightly. Beside her, Layla stared out the window, lost in thought. It was the first time that the two girls had been alone, like properly alone, since Sam had left Woodsboro almost five years before.
After a few minutes of silence, Layla turned to Sam. Her eyebrows were pulled tightly together, and Sam was surprised to see that she had toned down her usually high levels of judgement when looking at her. "Why did you think leaving was a good idea?"
Sam sighed heavily and turned to look back at the road. She knew that the question would be asked eventually, and while Tara knew it was because of her finding out who her father was, she knew that Layla wasn't going to just take that for an answer.
"I needed to get away from everything, from everyone."
"But why then?" Layla asked, her voice tinged with hurt. "You could have stuck around until Tara was a bit older, until she would have understood the truth behind her father walking out."
Sam continued to face the road in front of them. "It wasn't enough, Layla. I couldn't just stay in one place forever, doing the same thing every day, living with the worry that somehow I was going to end up as fucked up as my father."
"What, Tara wasn't enough of a reason for you?" Layla snapped back, her voice tight and angry as she mistook Sam's wording. "You left her, with your drunk of a mother and no way to contact you. She phoned you EVERY DAY for a year, and you didn't even leave her a voice note."
"I get that it was shitty but-"
"NO! You don't get it, Sam. We didn't even know you were still in the same fucking country as us, let alone state," Layla continued, feeling that familiar bit of heat rise in her neck as she got more frustrated.
"I knew she would be fine, since you were with her!" Sam snapped finally, making them fall into an uncomfortable silence once more.
The air between them was thick with tension as they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. They had been friends for years prior to Layla finding Sam's diary, and something had changed between them. Now there was a palpable distance that neither knew how to bridge.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Sam spoke up once more. "I'm sorry, Layla."
"For what?" Layla turned to her, her expression guarded. She wasn't sure what else Sam was apologising for now.
"For thinking you'd ever hurt my sister," Sam replied, no doubt in her mind now that Layla Torres was not the one going around killing people in Woodsboro. Layla mused a little, not quite sure what to reply to Sam.
"I did hurt her," Layla said, not hesitating before she finished her trail of thought incase Sam thought she was trying to claim to be the killer. "I broke up with her and ran off to New York. Four times. Then to pour salt in the wound, she just found out I've been lying to her for almost five years about why her father and sister both walking out on her - so yeah, I'd say I have hurt her."
"She'll forgive you," Sam replied, her voice a little tight as she cast a side glance at Layla. "Me? Maybe not. But you? Tara loves you, Layla, and she'll forgive you once this is all over."
"Yeah, if I'm alive," Layla muttered. Her voice cracked a little as she asked Sam the one thing that had been plaguing her mind. "Why did you have to get Dewey involved?"
Sam sighed. "I didn't know what else to do. He's lived through this so many times, and I just thought it was my best chance at helping Tara."
"He's been lucky," Layla replied without any hesitation. "Dewey has survived all of this, because of his friends that haven't. His sister died thinking her boyfriend loved her, his police partner died in his arms and he lost the love of his life. His luck hasn't extended to others."
Sam didn't say anything, but realised that she'd fucked up.
"He's been there for me since my dad was killed by Jill Roberts. Ever since second of the way, even when I went through my 'you're not my dad' phase two years ago. He took me in and never let me go. Dewey didn't need to do it for me, but he did."
Layla gulped as she fiddled with her hoodie drawstrings.
"I don't know what to do if I have to enter a world where he isn't here."
Sam finally opened her mouth to reply before both of their attention was drawn to a police car speeding past them at high speed. They shared a look, and against the better judgement of them both, Sam twisted the wheel and took off after the police car.
As they rushed after it, Layla felt bile rise in her throat as she recognised the turns and twists of the streets. She knew exactly where they were going - and she had a gut feeling she knew exactly who had been the next victim of a Ghostface attack.
_____
Wes sat on the edge of Layla's bed, his head resting in his hands as he stared at the wall. He felt a knot of worry tightening in her chest, making it hard to breathe. Judy was out on patrol tonight, and since there had been a stream of violent break-ins recently, the Woodsboro teen couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.
Layla had came over, knowing that Wes hated it when his mom was on patrol. Since Dewey was out with her, Layla felt it was only right to spend time with the boy she had basically grown up around. Wes' dad hadn't really ever been in the picture, and Judy always felt a lot better leaving him at Gale and Dewey's house than at the station or by himself.
She sat next to Wes, her own worry etched on her face. She knew that he hated his mom going out on patrol, especially around Halloween.
"What's wrong, Wes?" she asked, reaching out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He leaned into his close friend's touch, a sigh leaving his body. He tried to avoid complaining to Layla about these things, since he knew that she had it worse since both of her parents were dead.
"It's just...my mom. I worry about her every time she goes out on duty."
"I know what you mean," Layla said, her voice gentle. "With Dewey... It's hard not to worry when they're out there on the front lines."
Wes nodded, feeling a pang of empathy for his friend. She knew all too well the fear and anxiety that came with having a parent in law enforcement. "I just don't understand how they can do it," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "How they can go out there every day, risking their lives for strangers."
"It's because they're heroes," Layla said, her voice soft but firm. "They're the ones who run towards danger instead of away from it. They want to make a difference in the world, to protect and serve."
Layla let out a shaky breath, feeling a sense of pride mingled with her fear. She knew that her dad, Dewey and Wes' mom, were some of the bravest people she'd ever known. But that didn't make it any easier to watch them go out into the world, facing danger and uncertainty at every turn - especially not after what had happened to Ricardo Torres.
"I know," Wes said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just wish they didn't have to. I am proud of her. I just wish I didn't have to worry all the time."
"We all worry about the people we love," Layla said, leaning in to give Wes a hug. "But we'll get through this together. And we'll always be here for each other, no matter what. My dad was a hero, and your mom is too. Whatever comes her way, Dewey will protect her. He always does."
Wes leaned into the embrace, feeling a sense of comfort and reassurance wash over him. It was true - they would always be there for each other, through thick and thin. And for now, that was enough to ease the worry in his heart.
_____
"Layla..." Sam said gently, resting her hand lightly on the girl's shoulder as she sat on the sidewalk beside the Hicks' house. They'd got there just in time to see Judy Hicks' body being covered by a sheet and a black body bag being loaded into the coroner's van. It hadn't taken a genius to work out who was in that.
"I'll mourn when that bastard is dead," Layla replied, standing up and wiping at the tears that were resting on the side of her face. She looked over Sam's shoulder, her eyes widening a little as she noticed the ex-couple that were bickering in the distance. "Is that...?"
"Yeah, it's Gale," Sam replied, her voice sounding out of focus as her eyes suddenly caught on to Deputy Vinson. The exact same Deputy Vinson that was supposed to be stationed outside Tara's room right now in the hospital and NOT standing on the Hicks' frown lawn.
Layla followed her, both of the girls running up to the deputy with fear etched all over their faces. He turned to look at them, his face confused as to why they were rushing towards him.
"Who's at the hospital?" Layla yelled, causing Dewey to stop arguing with Gale and look over at the sound of her voice. Gale continued to bicker, having not noticed her adoptive daughter was on the other side of the street in a tizz.
"Who's watching my sister?" Sam forwarded, panic in her eyes as she grabbed on to Layla's arm, ready to book it to Sam's car. The deputy opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, not quite sure what to reply.
"I just heard about the sheriff," he defended, his arms being held out in front of him as the girls exchanged angry and exasperated looks. "They needed me here!"
Sam and Layla both yelled at him before they took off towards Sam's car, Dewey calling out to them as Gale turned to speak to her production crew that she had brought with her. She had no idea that her adoptive daughter was about to run head first into a situation that was going to change all of their lives forever.
Dewey paused, looking at Gale for a split second before he remembered his promise to Ricardo. He was going to protect Layla. He took off, flinging himself in the back of the car and yelling at Sam to drive.
Layla would later wonder if had Dewey known what was about to go down, would he have still gotten in that car? The part that stung the hardest but soothed the pain was the fact that they all knew one thing for certain: he would have done it a thousand times over if it meant keeping his promise to Ricardo Torres.
_______
"Hello, Samantha."
Layla almost dropped Sam's phone as her hands fumbled at hearing the automated voice speak on Richie's caller ID. She yelled out in frustration as Sam and Dewey did the same, with Sam pressing her foot down even further on the gas pedal than she was already doing.
"Richie can't come to the phone right now," the killer replied, a sick sense of enjoyment being heard through the voice changer. In the background of the call, Layla was sure that she could just make out Tara's whimpers. "He's finding out what happens to people who stick their noses in business that doesn't concern them."
"Please don't hurt him," Sam begged, knowing that they were almost at the hospital. She'd almost killed them at least three times on the drive, but Layla didn't care. She just needed to be by Tara's side before anything else happened to her.
"I'll tell you what, you can choose. I'll only kill one."
Layla and Dewey exchanged panicked glances, knowing that the killer definitely was not playing around. Dewey reached into his belt and pulled out his gun, making sure to load the ammunition that was in his jacket pocket as they turned the last corner before they'd arrive at the hospital.
"Who do you want to hear die?"
"No, please I'm begging you!" Sam cried, tears pouring out of her eyes as they swung into the last street before they reached the hospital. Layla motioned for her to keep talking, knowing that the longer the killer was on the phone, the less time he'd have to kill either Tara or Richie. "Please don't hurt them!"
"Really? You can't save your own sister? All you have to do is say, kill Richie..."
"No! Tara! Don't touch her!" Layla and Sam both screamed over each other as they heard Tara's loud scream come through the phone, and the sound of some metal crashing to the floor. Layla unbuckled her seat belt as Sam spun the wheel, mounting the sidewalk outside of the hospital and allowing the three to sprint in towards the hospital.
Sam continued to talk to Ghostface on the phone as they ran inside,Dewey shouting at the confused and worried orderlies to phone the police and tell them that the killer was in the hospital again. No-one had the chance to even stop the trio as they crashed into the first open elevator, Layla hammering the button for Tara's floor as time seemed to move slowly.
"Why are you doing this?" Sam asked, turning the phone back on to speaker so that Dewey and Layla could hear. Dewey held his gun tightly in his hand, raising it towards the doors so that as soon as they opened he would be able to shoot the masked killer.
"You want to know why, Sam?" Ghostface continued his taunting, a sick laugh coming down the phone as Tara continued to yell. They were almost at her floor now, and Layla was starting to be able to hear the screams in person and not just through the phone. "Maybe it's because you're a selfish bitch who can't even make a decision to save the life of someone you love. Maybe you're too weak for this franchise."
"Maybe you're right," Sam replied, finally giving up the act and putting on a brave front as the elevator slowed to a halt. "Or maybe I'm just stalling for time, fuckhead!"
Layla swore that the moment that those elevator doors opened, her life changed forever. The actions that came next set her on a whole new trajectory path in her life. She just wasn't sure if it marked the end of the beginning, or the beginning of the end.