Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.

A/N: I just wanted an excuse for Edward to interact with a small child. I don't know about you guys, but he's quickly becoming my favorite AHS character. I had fun writing this, so I hope you enjoy it, too!

:: Halloween Night, 1952 ::

Though Edward Mordrake did not relish the idea of being summoned, walking among the living on All Hallows Eve was a privilege he enjoyed taking to its fullest advantage. On the single night out of the year where the veil between this world and his was most easily traversed, he could roam freely without being met with horror or aversion. Contrary to the myths that had been spun about him, Edward did not take any pleasure out of haunting sideshows and carnivals and dragging some unfortunate soul along with him to the other side. There was enough blood on his hands to plague his conscience endlessly in the afterlife, yet his demon insisted on adding to their climbing body count. His demon's bloodlust had always been insatiable. Edward himself had not escaped it unscathed, even in death.

Dusk was just settling in, the darkness of the night creeping around the edges of a blazing sunset. Edward passed by rows of houses in a quaint suburban neighborhood, his cane making staccato notes across the sidewalks, his footsteps lost to the sounds of children running. He knew not where he was, nor did he care. After plucking a rather mean-spirited and abhorrent fire eater out of a sideshow attraction in Eastern Europe, he decided to leave his next destination to chance. They weren't being summoned. He had left his macabre collection behind and meandered through this nameless suburban town alone.

Well, not completely. He was never quite alone.

Edward was not a spiteful man, but he reveled in the grumbling complaints from his demon upon their arrival.

Carved pumpkins grinned at him from their perches on front porches and steps, the candles inside flickering against the purple twilight. He took a moment's delight in observing their faces, some more sinister than others. He allowed himself to indulge in the imagery of carving his demonic face into a smirking Jack O'Lantern, an idea it did not take kindly to.

Orange and black paper decorations were strung up around doorways and railings. Other houses had colored lights to help mark the path for gathering treats. The hour was growing late, but the streets were bustling with children in disguise. Edward watched them tug impatiently on their parents' hands, bouncing excitedly from one house to the next. Among the enthusiastic crescendos of "Trick or treat!" there would always be some shrieks of laughter or fright.

Occasionally, someone would linger on Edward's appearance. If young, he would give them a brilliant smile and tip his hat. If they happened to be of an age that appreciated a good scare, he would remove his hat and reveal his second face. That at least elicited a double-take and a few screams before they scurried off. He liked the assumption that he was simply a great Halloween trick rather than inciting genuine fear out of those he procured stories from. His demon, however, did not take any sort of joy from being shown off as just another harmless prank.

It was growing agitated with Edward. He had become accustomed to its name-calling and talent for chipping away at his sanity until he had no other choice but to serve it without resistance. The whispers were ceaseless. Even when the demon was quiet, Edward swore he still heard its brusque voice in his ear. He would not bend to its will now. It wasn't often that he had time to participate in the mortal life he had left behind a century ago.

Just for tonight, he almost felt human.

"Quiet," he ordered, tilting his head to the side. "Do you hear that?"

It ignored him.

Doing the same, Edward pressed on, moving down the block where the crowds had thinned. He kept a slow pace, seeking out the sound that had risen above all others and had piqued his supernaturally excellent hearing. Of course the demon wouldn't pay any mind to something as innocent as a child's tears. But, he had heard it, and that was reason enough to believe his humanity wasn't wholly lost. This was not a cry of fear nor was it an unwarranted frustration from a spoiled youth. Rather, this was a child in distress—possibly in some kind of danger.

The cries became clearer to him when he approached a little girl sitting on a curb, saturated in the orange-yellow glow of the street light above her. At first, she did not see him. He didn't wish to frighten her, so he stood several paces away with his hands resting atop his cane, patiently waiting. She was a small child, perhaps six or seven years of age to Edward's own estimation, which was far too young to be out on such a night alone. Her dress fanned out around her in an array of sparkling and silk fabric, though in the poor light, Edward couldn't tell if it was light blue or silver. The girl's white sneakers were dirty and tattered, poking out from underneath the layers of skirts in the elaborate dress. A jeweled tiara was framed by her hair, blonde and delicately curled.

She heaved out a few more sobs and wiped at her cheeks with the backs of her hands. Sniffling, she peered up at him, and he was met with a look of curiosity. He took a couple hesitant steps toward her and saw her lower lip trembling.

Edward offered a sympathetic smile. "My dear child," he said, his voice calm and quiet, "why are you crying?"

She stared at him. Her voice shook. "M-My mom says n-not to t-talk to strangers."

"Ah." Edward lowered to one knee in front of her, hoping he would not appear too intimidating. "An intelligent woman, your mother." He took a handkerchief from his inside pocket and held it out to her. "Perhaps we should introduce ourselves. I mean you no harm, little one—I heard your distress and could not pass without knowing what has caused you misery on such a night."

She grasped the handkerchief in her small hand and started to wipe at her splotchy, red face.

"You talk funny." She sniffled again. Her large brown eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

He tipped his hat and bowed his head, careful to keep the demon from view. "Edward Mordrake at your service, young madam."

"Sarah," she answered. She gave him back the handkerchief, which he tucked away. "I like your costume."

His smile broadened. "It is no mere costume. Would you believe that I dress like this all the time?"

"You do?" Her tone was astonished, her doe eyes suddenly wider.

"Indeed," Edward said. "Now, tell me, Miss Sarah, what has upset you?"

Sarah's frown returned. "My stupid brother! He took me trick-or-treating, but then he left me to throw eggs at people's houses with all his stupid friends!" Her lip started shaking again and her words were laced in more tears. "M-My house isn't here and I don't…" Sarah let out a shuddering breath, "I don't k-know how to get h-home!"

"There, there," Edward soothed, dabbing at the fresh tears that slid down her face. "I do not wish to see a young princess crying any longer."

The look Sarah gave him could have melted the demon's cold heart. "Princess?"

"Of course, my dear, isn't that what you are?"

"I'm not really—"

Edward silenced her with a finger placed against his own lips. "Hush, now. Your secret is safe with me."

Sarah looked extraordinarily pleased. She nodded and dragged her index finger and thumb across her lips as if she was sealing them shut.

Edward pulled himself back to his full height. "How dreadful of your brother to leave royalty such as yourself unescorted at this time of night. Allow me to be of some assistance." He held out his hand. "If you would tell me your address, I am quite sure I shall be able to escort you home."

After divulging the correct information, Sarah stood up, towing a sack that looked like a weathered old pillowcase doubling as a bag for candy. Sarah placed her hand in his and Edward kissed the back of her palm before he offered his arm to her.

"It would be my honor to escort you, your royal highness."

Studying him for a moment, Sarah finally looped her small arm through his. They crossed the street to another block of houses; Edward had no real idea where the street was, but he was working on bullying the information from his demon, who seemed to always be privy to more details. In the meantime, he scanned each street sign they happened upon and entertained a host of questions from the tiny princess. Sarah continued to throw discreet glances his way, admiring everything from the hat atop his head to his long cloak and polished leather boots.

"Why do you talk like that?"

"I am not from here."

"Where are you from?"

Edward laughed. "A very long time ago."

Her eyes sought his, alight with inquisitiveness. "Oh," she said, as though she was trying to make sense of his answer. "How long ago?"

"A hundred years, in fact."

Sarah giggled. "You're lying."

"I would never, my lady."

"Do you really dress like that?" she wanted to know. "Not just for Halloween?"

"It is customary, where I come from, to dress oneself in the finest clothes," Edward said. "Even more so for special occasions."

They lapsed into silence. Edward managed to wrestle some directions from the demon, who had finally offered them up begrudgingly. Sarah skipped along beside him, holding tight to his arm, flashing a bright smile to whoever happened to be passing on the sidewalk. He felt her gaze on him once more.

"What is it?"

"Can I ask you something else?"

"You may." He grinned.

Her voice lowered to a conspicuous whisper. "Are you a prince?"

Edward couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. It had been such a long time since he had heard himself react with such amusement or joy. He found Sarah's question to be wonderfully innocent.

"It appears as though you have discovered my secret," he replied. "I have not heard that title in many years."

Sarah was still whispering. "I won't tell anybody. I promise!"

"You will keep it a secret, then?"

"Yes." Sarah nodded eagerly. She offered him her other hand, her pinky finger extended and the rest of them clutched around the pillowcase. "Pinky promise."

Edward's puzzled expression did not get lost on her. Sarah started giggling again.

"You have to hook your pinky around mine. That means it can't get broken. A pinky promise is the best promise ever."

"I see." Edward tucked his cane beneath his arm so he could entwine a pinky finger with Sarah's. She shook their hands.

"There," she declared. "All safe."

"Thank you, Miss Sarah. I am sure you, as a noble yourself, understand it is best to keep hidden amongst the commoners."

They were nearing her house—Edward noticed the shift in her demeanor, happy that she was within a neighborhood that seemed familiar to her.

"What are you the prince of?" Sarah asked.

"Freaks and outcasts," Edward said. "Those who have not found a place where they feel they can belong." His blue eyes fixed on her with interest. "And you, young princess? What kingdom is under your most gracious rule?"

Sarah thought about it, humming. With an excited squeal, she lifted her pillowcase of candy into the air in a triumphant gesture.

"Halloween!"

"I have familiarity with that particular realm."

They arrived at her house, a simple one-story with a small porch and a winding cobblestone pathway from the sidewalk up to the front door. There were two pumpkins at the base of the steps, the larger one carved with a more practiced hand than the smaller one. The tree in the middle of the manicured lawn had been strewn with paper streamers. A banner across the trunk bore the message HAPPY HALLOWEEN in a child's handwriting.

Edward made a sweeping gesture toward the house. "I believe your castle awaits you, your royal highness."

Sarah was beaming. "You found it!"

"As I promised."

"Thank you!" Sarah detached herself from his arm and went skipping toward the cobblestone path.

Edward watched her retreating form until she halted in the middle of the yard and turned sharply on her heel. She ran back, bouncing on her tiptoes, and stood in front of him.

She beckoned him down to her level and Edward obliged, taking a knee. Sarah reached into her bag of candy and gave him a couple of pieces, pushing them into the palm that wasn't gripping his cane. Sarah giggled, kissed his cheek, and then hopped her way into the house, leaving the front door to slam shut behind her.

Edward got to his feet and tipped his hat toward the door Sarah had disappeared through, a sincere grin on his face.

"Thank you, my dear."

By the time Sarah tried to find him out the front window, he was gone, replaced by a fine green mist.