"So, Danielle." Stark said once they were sitting in the therapy room. Danielle was now sitting in a luxurious leather chair opposite her doctor who was behind the hansom mahogany desk. "How can I help you?"

Danielle hesitated for a moment, not sure how best to embark on what she wanted to say.

"I did what you suggested," she said quietly after a few minutes silence. "I spent the last week thinking and trying to sort my damn head and heart out. I arrived at the same conclusion every time."

Stark didn't press her and Danielle knew she was waiting and would wait as long as she needed. She took a deep breath.

"I think I'm falling in love with a masked serial killer."

"So…" Stark said slowly. "What are you wanting to hear from me? Are you expecting me to condemn you for it? Say it's not a good idea? Sorry Danielle, I'm not going to say either of those things. You are your own woman and this is entirely your choice."

Danielle nodded. Her heart had picked up speed. She'll say no, said a nasty little voice in her head. I bet anything. Don't bother…

Something about her thoughts must've shown on her face because Stark said gently now, "what is it, Danielle?"

"I'd like to bewithhim," Danielle said, the last three words coming out in a fast mutter, as if she was trying to get them out as quickly as she could.

Stark chuckled. "Sorry? I didn't catch that?"

Danielle took another deep breath and this time managed to get her words out slowly enough to be understood.

"I'd like to be with him, Dr Stark. I mean literally, as well as maybe in the relationship sense. Can he come down to my cell? Even if only so I can talk to him? I have to get this out… Or I might lose my nerve!"

Stark reached forward and lightly touched Danielle's arm. Danielle felt a sinking in her gut and knew what she was going to say before she said it.

"I'm really sorry Danielle, but we can't do that at the moment, for your own safety. I know Michael would most likely never hurt you, but we can't take that risk right now. I know the kill he committed before was because you were sexually assaulted and it's obvious to Loomis and I that he really cares about you. But right now, it can't happen. I'm sorry. Soon though, I will promise you that."

Absurdly, Danielle felt tears rush to her eyes and Stark handed her some tissues. "Why?" She managed when she could speak. Was this what a broken heart felt like?

"Hey Danielle," Stark soothed, again touching her hand. "It's only because it's coming up to Halloween."

Danielle looked blankly at her not understanding, then clapped a hand to her mouth. She'd completely forgotten. She reflected that meant she'd been here almost three months. She let out a shuddering breath. "Shit," she said, speaking the word through a long exhale.

"Exactly. But I promise you as soon as it's over, we'll talk again. Ok?"

Danielle shivered a little. She knew as well as anyone the events of sixty-three and seventy-eight. Myers normally only killed on or around Halloween, unless he had a reason. Even then she was pretty sure he only killed if he had one. But she understood why Stark wasn't prepared to take the risk. Danielle, like many she assumed, couldn't help wondering why Myers had killed his sister in the first place. But she sure as hell wasn't going to ask the killer. She didn't want to join her.

Gemma Stark sat at her desk after guiding Danielle back to her cell a few minutes later and let out a long, slow sigh. She'd had a pretty good idea what Danielle had wanted to talk to her about given their conversation the week before. She'd also seen her and Myers interacting in the yard. He'd held her hand every day. For the first time in her professional career, Gemma Stark began to wonder if she'd made a mistake. Or at the very least been too hasty with her refusal. There was no way Myers would try to harm Danielle. Was there?

She poured herself a coffee from the flask on her desk and looked out through the glass towards the common room. It was almost empty now; most people were back in their cells. Should she go and speak to Loomis right now? Ask him what he thought? Yes she was a trained Psychiatrist just as he was, but on this particular occasion she felt uneasy. Had she made the right choice?

It was true ever since Danielle had attempted suicide causing her to be committed to Smith's Grove that Myers had certainly kept a close watch on her after a few weeks. Stark had always insisted to Loomis that Michael was a man and could love the same as anyone. Seeing his and Danielle's interaction had only strengthened her conviction in that regard. Should she have allowed the move? She'd seen the tears in Danielle's eyes when she'd refused… Yet…

Stark sighed again. There was still the fact it was coming up to Halloween and they all knew Michael Myers was at his most dangerous on the thirty-first of October. Whether to Danielle or not, it was too big a risk. Right?

She remembered the conversation she and Loomis had just hours after Michael had first held Danielle's hand.

"I may have to accept your wrong," Loomis said as they sat in his office, Danielle safely back in her cell. "There may be something left for Michael after all. Did you see that?"

"I did," Stark said curtly. Her tone made Loomis look up at her in surprise. "What?"

"You stopped the guards from intervening. Why? Danielle could've been killed Sam! You went mad at Joanne the first time Danielle accidentally crossed his line and now you're allowing it to happen? Don't you think he's just luring her in to a false sense of security?"

Loomis shook his head. "Michael doesn't work like that. He just kills on the spot. I think he's fascinated with Danielle purely because she cannot see him. He will have never met anyone with that problem before."

Stark snorted. "Yeah, ok Sam. What damn difference will that make to a cold blooded killer? If anything it'll help him! She'll be easier to kill because she can't see him! Fascinated? Please!"

"Then why did he hold her hand out there?" Loomis asked quietly. Though Stark knew her boss was asking a rhetorical question. "Why did he not just make an attempt on her life on the spot?"

"How should I know?" Stark stood up and slapped her hands to her sides in frustration. "I'm not Michael Myers! But I still say you're making a big mistake! You're the one who says there is nothing left and you're letting them get so close he can hold her hand! Joanne rushed over, I saw her and you physically stopped the guards from stepping in! Why? Are you trying to use Danielle as some kind of… Pawn to prove you're right? She could get killed!"

There was a long silence. Eventually, Loomis spoke quietly.

"No Gemma," he said. Using her name for one of very few times in their working relationship, but it got her attention which she knew was why he'd used it. "I believe that what we just saw was real. I'm serious. Michael crept up on Judith while she was naked and brushing her hair for God's sake! You're right. Danielle would've been an easy victim, stupidly easy even, guards or not. But he didn't touch her! That's what I'm saying. He held her hand and if you ask me, he felt protective towards her! I'm hoping Danielle will prove me wrong, not right. He may have just met the one person who can get through to his heart, based on the simple fact that she can't see him."

"That…" Stark spluttered. "That's… I'm sorry Sam but have you finally gone insane? That's… Well madness! You've been trying to reach him for years! Thirty-five to be exact if you include before seventy-eight. Why the hell would a blind person make any difference?"

"Michael has scars to," Loomis said very quietly. "He is, whatever else he may be, still a man."

"I just think you could be putting Danielle in danger!" Stark persisted. "I'm her therapist, Sam! It's my job to look after her and already you're letting her stand beside a cold blooded killer!"

"Just give me the benefit of the doubt. Ok? You were there. The guards will step in if they need to, they told us as much. But I honestly believe Danielle and Michael could help each other through their separate pasts."

"Insane," Stark said again, standing and this time leaving without another word.

But now, sitting here in her office, she was starting to wonder if what Loomis had said all those weeks ago might not be right. Or at least in part. But she also knew she had to do what was best for Danielle. It was after all Halloween in just a few days and she didn't want more innocent blood on her hands. Her decision had been the right one and she would stick with her convictions. She was almost as experienced as Loomis was and could make decisions just as well as he could.

At last, over two hours late, Gemma stark finally headed for home, hoping her husband Luke would still be up. She needed his arms around her and a strong glass of wine with dinner. She needed him to tell her everything would be alright, even if she couldn't tell him what the problem was. She just hoped it wasn't a lie.

Derek chancer was rudely woken by a loud tapping against his cell bars. He scowled at the guard. What was his name? David? Through them as he looked up. "What?" He snapped.

"You've got a visitor Mr. Chancer," David said. Chancer gaped at him. "Eh?"

"You've, got, a, visitor," David said as if he were slow or didn't speak English. Chancer felt his anger rise. "I heard you dickhead, but who is it?"

"Mind your language, don't want solitary do you? It's an old friend of yours, Mark Sarcozi is his name."

When visitors entered Smith's Grove, they had to show valid ID to prove who they were. Chancer felt his mouth drop open. Mark Sarcozi had abandoned him years ago. What the fuck was he doing here? Chancer felt his anger rise as he pulled on his uniform shirt. "Alright," he said. "I'll see him." He knew patients could refuse visitors, but he was curious, he couldn't lie. What the fuck was Mark Sarcozi doing here after all this time? Frowning, he didn't resist as David shackled him, then led him towards and in to a visitor's room. Sarcozi was behind thick glass. Without a word, David unshackled him then left.

Mark Sarcozi looked up at his former friend through the security glass as he entered and felt himself shiver again. Those cold, calculating eyes hadn't changed a bit. What the fuck am I doing here? He thought. "Ching-Ching," Chris's cruel voice mocked again. Mark sighed. Could he, should he really do this? It wasn't too late to turn back…

"Well well, if it isn't Mark Sarcozi." Chancer's cold, soft voice came through loud and clear. But how the hell could Mark hear him through all that glass? It was then he looked up and saw the speakers in the ceiling. He assumed there must be a microphone built in to the glass somewhere, but he couldn't see it. All he could see was the button to call for a guard if necessary.

"Can, can you hear me?" Mark inwardly cursed when he stuttered a little. Shit. Chancer would immediately know he was nervous.

"Loud and clear," Chancer said softly. "My ears are working just fine, but thank you for your concern, Marky Mark." That same, bitter sarcasm Mark had known from this man all his life. He felt himself swallow. "So what can I do for you? I'm going to take an educated guess that you haven't come in to drop off flowers and grapes for your old friend?"

"I…" Mark swallowed again. This was it. It was now or never. Danielle's blind, he thought. I can't… But next thing he knew, he was speaking. Ching-Ching.

"I… I've only just got out the nick," he admitted and heard Chancer's snicker. "What for Marky?"

Mark hated being called Marky and suspected those who knew him guessed that and did it all the more to wind him up. He took a breath. "Nothing much," he said vaguely. He really didn't want to go in to it with this man, even if he'd once been a friend. "Just a bit of drug stuff."

Chancer actually laughed. "Oh Marky," Mark could almost hear his glee. "You disappoint me. Such small time criminality. I hope this means you're on the way up now?"

Mark didn't answer. Not if I can help it, he thought. But then, what would he call what he was about to do now? He was about to put a blind woman's existence and maybe even life in terrible danger. Could he really do this?

"So what can I do for you Marky? How nice of you to drop in, but I suspect you have another reason as opposed to just missing your old friend? Do tell."

Mark wondered for a moment how Chancer knew this, but then stopped. He was visibly nervous. It wouldn't take much for a man like Chancer to work it out.

"Ok," he began. "I did genuinely want to see you Derek, that's true," he lied. "But I've also been asked to make contact with you by our old friend C.L." He heard Chancer's soft, "ah" and felt himself shiver again. Chris Leach, the man not to mess with. "So what did he have to say for himself?"

Mark wondered then for the first time if these visitor's rooms were wired. If so… Then he dismissed it. Part of him almost hoped they were, so Danielle would be warned and protected. What the fuck was he doing here? But it was too late now. He could easily walk away physically he knew that. Chancer couldn't get anywhere near him. But the consequences if he did… He shut that idea down as soon as it formed. Way too dangerous. Chancer also knew people. Mark wouldn't live past next week.

"He wants you to help him," he said quietly, leaning in to the glass, hoping he was near the microphone he couldn't see. "He says his organisation has been hired by a guy who wants reports on a patient here, on your ward. A woman named Danielle Hayward?"

Chancer laughed. "You're not serious Marky?"

Mark raised his eyebrows. "Yes I am, C.L. contacted and told me this last night. Why would I not be serious?"

Chancer looked at him as if he was stupid, the second person to do so in less than twenty-four hours, Mark observed. "Marky, she's never out of her cell the same time as me, the quacks in here saw to it. I can't even get close to her. Not to mention the one guy who scares the shit out of me is protecting her. You've got to be joking. I've heard rumours he's already killed one guy here. No thanks man. Tell C.L. He can keep his cash. Not doing it."

"What do you mean?" Mark asked before he could stop himself. He knew Smith's Grove housed dangerous people, it was a Mental hospital after all, but who had committed the kill and now was protecting Danielle?

Chancer scoffed. "Come on Marky! Really? Who's the one masked killer who scares every motherfucker in Haddonfield? Jesus man, think!"

"You don't mean Michael Myers?" Mark asked in disbelief.

"Have a medal. Yes I fucking do. He won't let her leave his side and he's always watching her. No man, I'm not doing it. I want to fuck and kill more cunts when I get out of here and if I cross his path or anger him, I won't live past sunrise the next day."

"Um, I take it our Client doesn't know this?"

"That his bitch is being protected by Michael Myers? How the fuck would I know? That's not my problem Marky. But you can tell both him and C.L. to go fuck himself. I don't have a death wish."

"I don't think he's asking you to get up close to her," Mark said, his mouth going dry. Danielle was being protected by the "boogeyman" Michael Myers? Holy fuck! No wonder Chancer wasn't willing. He wouldn't be either; he'd be running as fast as he could in the other direction. "He knows you'd kill her if you could and I don't think that's the idea. Our Client just wants to know what she says, who she's talking to, etc."

"I say again, you've got to be joking Marky! I'd never hear a word when she talks to that bitch quack Stark for obvious reasons and Loomis won't tell me a damn thing should I even try to ask, duh!"

"Just…" Mark sighed. This was actually good as far as he was concerned. It looked as if Chris's plan wouldn't work and he would be in the clear. He hadn't told Chancer anything which could hurt Danielle, nor his boss's. So far, his involvement had done no damage and Mark would like to keep it that way. If Chancer wasn't able or willing to report anything, Mark wouldn't have to come back, which was just fine with him.

"Not to mention," Chancer continued. "She's in a cell way up the corridor from mine, I wouldn't be able to hear anything."

"Um, yes you would," Mark said. It looked like his not causing damage was about to change. "You'd be provided with an eves dropping device designed to look like something else."

Chancer rolled his eyes. "I'm not fucking James Bond; plus how do you plan to get it in here without being stopped by security? Plus how do you know someone's not listening right fucking now? I don't have a phone, forget that one, they'd find it within hours Marky. So it'll have to be pretty damn good."

"But if it works," Mark said softly. "Would you?"

"I'll think about it," Chancer said finally. "Get this device in and I'll let you know then. You'll have to do that anyway before I even consider this crazy request. What's the pay packet anyway? It's not like money is any good to me in this shit hole."

"It'll get paid in to a secret bank account," Mark murmured. "Tax free, no questions asked."

Chancer snorted derisively. "Yeah, ok. Heard that before. But I say again, I am not tangling with Michael Myers. No fucking way! If I sense he's cottoned on to this, I stop. Done. Finished. Full stop."

"Ok," Mark agreed. He couldn't blame Chancer for that. So would he. "I'll come back with it for you tomorrow," he said as he slowly stood up, for some unknown reason his heart was pounding. The "Boogeyman" Michael Myers was in the very building he was standing in now. It made Mark's blood go cold and goose bumps rise on his arms and neck. Michael Michael was one scary man.

"Right," Chancer said, standing too on his side of the glass. "Nice to see you Marky Mark. Get this device thingy in and we'll talk further. Good day my old friend. He walked away from the glass as a guard appeared beside him. Mark only dimly saw his former friend being shackled.