Epilogue

The sanitarium looked suitably frightening. Cobwebs draped themselves over the walls, floating gently with each passing wind while their inhabitants watched from dark corners, waiting to drop on unsuspecting prey. The hinges of the gates creaked as they opened, fog brushing along their bottom. Skeletons hung from the walls, teeth agape in a terrifying grin. If she listened closely, she could hear whispers from the ceiling, the dripping of broken water pipes, or faint footsteps that seemed to come from the floor above.

When the sanitarium decorated for Halloween, they certainly knew how to do it.

"Only for those who enjoy it," noted one nurse, her uniform splattered with (fake) blood. "We shut off the music for those with anxiety, panic, or post-traumatic stress disorders, and only certain hallways have the decorations. No makeup either – if those patients need us, we need to be able to take off any effects quickly." She indicated how it was only her coat that had the blood, allowing her to quickly strip it off.

The maximum security wing was apparently one of those places deemed to be better off bereft of decorations. The white walls looked exactly the same as always, the same vaguely comforting classical music playing, with not even a paper pumpkin or cheery skeleton to break up the monotony.

On second thought, Laurie said to herself, perhaps that was a good thing, the sameness. It meant Michael was still here.

Despite what had transpired two months before, neither Laurie nor Dr. Beckett had relaxed as Halloween drew near. Security was tightened, a careful watch was kept on him during his sessions with the doctor and Laurie's visits (bumped up to weekly after the incident, though the children still only came on a biweekly basis). She had made a call before coming, after dropping off the twins at school, just to make sure he was still there.

Only one call. It was… normal.

The first few times, it had been back in the same tiny room as Laurie's first visits, with guards in the room and restraints on Michael (reinforced, though Laurie thought that if her brother could rip a door open, he could probably free himself if he wanted to). But those had gradually been taken off again, and a limited amount of freedom given. She had heard that they were using what little funding they had to improve the structure of the doors as well, not to mention boosting security to prevent outside intruders from getting in. She wondered what measures were being taken today, the ninth anniversary of his escape.

But when she came in, she saw few differences from her last couple of visits. One guard remained in the room; she could see two cameras in the corner of the room. But little seemed to have changed.

Well, no – the two things that had changed the most were sitting next to each other at the table.

Laurie settled down, watching Michael's reactions, his movements. No children today – it was not even the normal day for visits. She had had to make a special arrangement, with the help of Dr. Beckett, to get permission to come for this specific date. Both of them had thought it imperative that she be there, acting as both reward and incentive. Laurie had had to take a day off work. At least the administration was more accepting this time; she had already done it last year, so it was not unexpected, even if now she had completely different reasons for doing it. Jamie and John were at school, wearing costumes for the first time in their lives, and Laurie had felt a strange mix of nostalgia and worry as she watched her twins, both dressed as clowns, tromp off to class with the rest of their classmates.

They were going to go trick-or-treating tonight. She had feared they too might share in her nightmares after the intrusion in the sanitarium - all the blood, the bodies, the terror, could not have been healthy - but they had recovered well enough, other than being a bit jumpy for a few days. The resilience, or innocence, of youth, she supposed. Or perhaps ignorance - they still had no idea just what exactly their uncle had done to land him in a mental institution, though judging by the twins' conversations, they seemed to think it was stealing. But the rest of the town knew, and Laurie was not ready for anybody to know that they were visiting the infamous Michael Myers. It would surely come out - at some point, Jamie or John would probably draw some picture entitled "My Family", and have a teacher start nosing about "that man in the mask". Then the news would spread.

But until then, she would let her twins have their fun, and Laurie would stay at home. Let them go with Rachel. She wasn't ready to go out yet, but she would no longer deprive her twins. And it was better that Haddonfield not see her anytime Halloween night. Better, for now, that she stay at home and keep an eye on the news, just in case.

She shook her head, pulling herself back into the present, back to the sanitarium.

Michael was wearing a mask, an orange and black, pumpkin-like thing somewhat reminiscent of the image on Dr. Loomis's second book. She sat down, dropping her pile of paperwork onto the table with a small sigh. While she pulled out a pencil and organized herself, she saw Michael reach for the mask and tug it off, some of his hair getting tangled in the string.

That was another thing that was different, taking off the mask. He did not always do it – more often than not, he kept it on – but sometimes, perhaps if he was feeling in a good mood, he would not wear it. He had not ever come in wearing no mask at all, but Dr. Beckett still thought it indicated some kind of progress. He had also wondered if he would let Laurie take off the mask, but despite the doctor's hints towards the matter, she had not tried to repeat that one experience. Perhaps he would let her, perhaps not – she was not sure herself – but she had no current inclination to try. What her brother did now, infrequent as it was, was enough.

Michael dropped the mask near her paper. Laurie waited, pencil poised.

After a second's pause – like he had been watching her – he lifted his right hand placed it on the table as well, palm open – a light, casual movement, something that was by now almost habitual.

Laurie put down her pencil and reached her left hand across, tucking it in his. She felt a squeeze.

"Happy Halloween, Michael."

FIN

A/N: Hooray it's over. I feel like I've just been posting my story into the void of the Interwebz and watching it get ignored, but I'm still kind of proud to have written this and happy it's up and finished.

Anyway, my original intention for this was because I found the ending of Rob Zombie's H2 rather depressing - Annie dies, Dr. Loomis dies, Michael dies, and Laurie is either insane or also dead. So this is sort of my own, happy ending (or as happy as it can be). I was also kind of excited to mix the universes of the remake and the original series together a bit. And finally, I did want to keep Michael Myers's motivations as mysterious as possible, which is why you never see from his POV and only get interpretations from other characters.

Welp, that's it from me. Thanks to the people who read, commented, and favorited! Hope it was satisfying!