Archive of Our Own ^beta

When their front doorbell rings at two in the afternoon, on a Saturday, Stu isn’t taken aback by the sight of a lone teenage girl on the doorstep. Their neighborhood is just over the threshold of what he’d classify as ‘suburbia’ – they know most people's names on their block, but there’s no homeowners association – so Girl Scouts are a pretty common sight. This one isn’t wearing a uniform though.

“Do you have any of those cookies with the coconut on ‘em?” he asks by way of greeting. 

The girl’s eyes narrow slightly, and if he didn’t know any better, Stu would say she is sizing him up. “Does William Loomis live here?”

Now that is a surprise.

It’s not the first time a stranger has turned up at their door looking for them, but this kid is by far the youngest. She doesn’t look like a true crime junkie or overly ambitious writer.

“I don’t know anyone called William,” Stu answers, half honestly, and half to gauge the kid’s reaction. As expected, she doesn’t seem thrown off by this answer. Instead, her grumpy expression just intensifies and she studies him harder. 

“You’re lying. Who are you?” she says. Stu laughs. 

“Kid, you’re at my house,” Stu points out. He doesn’t know why he’s still talking to this child anyway. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Where are your parents?”

For a second it looks like she’ll lose her temper and argue back, but she squeezes her eyes shut and appears to compose herself. It’s kind of sweet. 

“If Mr. Loomis doesn’t live here anymore, do you have his new address?” She really is trying so hard to sound like a grown-up, as though this isn’t a supremely weird situation, and Stu wants to throw her a bone. Plus he’s curious. 

“Now I didn’t say that, did I? Just don’t know any stuffy old Williams. Why don’t you come inside and tell me why you’re here?”

The kid looks at him again and then scans the area. He doesn’t know what she’s looking for. Witnesses of her voluntary kidnapping maybe? “I don’t think I should do that.”

Stu resists the urge to roll his eyes. There’s no one around, but there will be soon, and it’s probably going to look weirder if he’s seen talking to a kid on the doorstep for much longer. They’re already on thin ice with some of the neighbors because of their lifestyle . “Kid, once again, you came here. Bit late to be thinking about stranger danger. Besides, Billy will be home any minute. He’s out walking the dogs.”

She brightens at that but tries to smother it almost immediately with an indifferent expression. “I have pepper spray, just so you know,” she warns as she heads inside the house.

He doesn’t point out that it would be a more effective weapon as a surprise. “I am appropriately scared.”

As the kid follows him, Stu suddenly feels very out of his depth. Even if Billy gets back sooner than expected, he still has to entertain and have a conversation with a child. He doesn’t even do that with his sister’s kid.

“So, uh, do you want some juice or something? I think I’ve got some.”

The kid looks around the house as she follows him into the kitchen, and Stu appreciates that she’s not trying to hide her nosiness. 

“Water is okay,” she says, then she hops onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar like she owns the place. “Do you live here too?”

“Yep. Will you tell me your name and what you’re doing in my house now?” he says and hands her a glass with Bart Simpson on it. It turns out he does have some kid-appropriate stuff. Shocker.

“Sam.”

Stu raises his eyebrows at her and she just smiles back. 

“Carpenter,” she adds. 

“Any relation to John?”

“No. Christina.”

At the back of his head, the name tickles something, but Stu ignores it. There’s a lifetime of crap rattling around in there, almost none of it is ever useful. 

“And I’m Stu. Now we’re no longer strangers and it’s not weird that you’re in my house.” He reaches his hand for Sam to shake, but she just narrows her eyes again.

“I know you.”

Stu laughs. “Yeah, of course you do. I just introduced myself.”

“No, you went to school with my mom too. She was Collins back then though.”

“Too? What do you mean?” And then half a minute too late, it hits him. Christina Collins. That’s what was rattling around his skull. Stu remembers she had shiny hair and a pretty good rack. Not as good as Tatum’s though. Almost nobody could beat her.

Stu thinks he might have made out with her at a party once, but otherwise, he didn’t know her very well. She was one of the usual crowd at his rangers in that post-Maureen year though, including one particular night where Billy had something to prove.

Before he can finish that thought, Stu hears the distinctive sound of the front door opening and the sounds of two tired, over-excited dogs. 

“Yo, dickhead, I’m home. Can we order Chinese food tonight? I am not fucking cooking for you again this week.”

Billy walks into the kitchen as he usually does: kicking off his shoes and shoving them to the side, then pulling off Stu’s hoodie so that his shirt rides up just enough to make his scars visible. Stu hears Sam take a tiny intake of breath. 

“Maybe,” Stu says slowly, “we’ve got company though.”

That snaps him out of his routine quickly enough. “What?”

When Billy sees the kid sitting at their breakfast bar, one of Stu’s favorite glasses clutched between her small hands, he stills. Stu can see the predator start to slip out, and he realizes he needs to say something before Billy reads the room very wrong. 

“This is Sam,” Stu says, in his best Billy-taming tone. “She just turned up at the door like twenty minutes ago. She’s looking for you. Her mom is Christina Collins.”

That pulls Billy out of his mood quick. “Chrissy?”

Ah, fuck. Stu can suddenly see where this is going. 

Sam shifts in her seat and her excitement is palpable. Stu’s body tenses. 

“That’s my mom,” Sam repeats, speaking to Billy for the first time. “And you’re my dad.”

The world doesn’t immediately implode when Sam drops her bombshell like Stu feared it would. Instead, everything stays very quiet and still, which is almost as bad if you ask him. 

“Me?” Billy says and he points to himself. Kind of unnecessary. They all know who Sam is talking about.

Sam nods eagerly though. “Billy Loomis. I found my mom’s diaries from the nineties and she talks about you. She knew I was yours, but she didn’t want to tell you, with everything that happened.”

Her voice trails off when she gets to that part like a wind-up toy slowly running out of energy. Stu supposes a bloody massacre is not really something most kids are used to talking about. Although if his math is right — and it always was, when it comes to that year — Sam must be about thirteen. Three years younger than they were when they gutted Maureen. 

Stu frowns and puts on his concerned face. “Hey, it’s okay kid. It was a long time ago. You can mention it.”

“You were there too, weren’t you?” Sam asks. Stu notices how she fidgets with the sleeves of her hoodie and doesn’t quite meet his eyes. She’s nervous, but she’s also curious. 

“For sure kiddo. I would’ve been the last victim if it wasn’t for your daddy.”

“Give it a rest Stu,” Billy says. It’s the first thing he’s said in a while. He’s still rooted to the same spot in the kitchen doorway, which he must realize is getting creepy at the same time as Stu does, because he moves suddenly, walking over to them stiffly. 

“Sit down hero boy,” Stu says, gesturing to the stool next to him. “And it’s true. If you hadn’t called the police and held my guts in, I woulda been a goner.”

“Stu.” Billy’s voice is sharp now, in the way that makes Stu’s insides gooey, but he flicks his eyes towards Sam, and ah. Probably getting too graphic for the current situation. 

“It’s okay,” Sam says softly. “I know what happened. Everybody in Woodsboro does.”

“Doesn’t mean you mean you need to hear the details.” Billy sighs and runs his hands through his hair, combing it back with his fingers a couple of times. It’s a nervous habit Stu is familiar with. “Why are you here Sam? How are you here for that matter.”

Stu is curious about that too. They’re not that far from Woodsboro, but it’s still over an hour away. Too far for a kid Sam’s age to be going by herself. 

“I got a bus,” Sam says, then adds, less confidently. “And I hitched.”

Billy looks like he’s going to tear his hair out. “I guess that means your mom doesn’t know you’re here?”

Sam shifts in her seat again. “No.”

“Great,” Billy says, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. Stu squeezes his knee. It’s not an ideal situation, but it’ll only get worse if Billy loses his temper. 

“Not that I don’t respect the balls kid, but that’s hella dangerous. You’re like the prime demographic for abduction.” It’s not exactly the type of child-friendly stat he should be handing out, but he can't help it. Billy elbows him, but his heart isn’t in it. 

“Well I’m here,” Sam says, as though she couldn’t care less about the danger. She probably doesn’t.

“That you are,” Billy agrees. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but why now? Why run away just to see me?”

Sam looks more uncomfortable at that question than she did when skirting around the topic of mass murder. For a brief second Stu worries that she’s going to cry. “My dad found out about it. About you,” she says finally. Her nails are digging into her palms. “He heard me yelling to my mom about you. He found out because of me. And he left.”

Even without turning, Stu knows the effect the words have had on Billy. For all he pretends to be an emotionless psychopath, Billy is still just a boy with abandonment issues. And mommy issues. Just parental issues in general if he’s being honest. Plus a pretty big misogynistic streak. God, Stu loves him. 

Sam, of course, is oblivious to the trigger she’s unexpectedly hit upon. She’s still stuck in her head, dwelling on her own budding issues. 

“I know you weren’t dating my mom, I’m not a kid,” she says defensively, once she’s regrouped, “I get that it was just a one-time thing. I just had to find you.”

Even though Sam has correctly assessed the reality of Billy and Christina’s relationship, it doesn’t make it any less awkward. Kids shouldn’t be aware of their parents' indiscretions, look how Billy turned out.

“That was your last attempt at heterosexuality if I remember correctly,” Stu says, trying to think of something to cut the tension and not really considering anything further than that.

Billy glares at him, which is nothing new.

“Didn’t you have a girlfriend back then? The girl that died?” Sam asks Billy, sidestepping neatly around Stu’s joke but still picking up on the truth of what he’s saying. Smart girl. 

“Yeah. Sidney,” Billy says quietly. The soft, unsure way he says it plays for grief, but Stu can feel his cogs turning. “Listen, I was a kid and I was stupid. Cheating on Sid was wrong, and messing about with your mom just to figure out if I didn’t like girls or if I just didn’t like Sidney was wrong. But it was a shitty time for me and I was confused and sad and didn’t realize how much I could hurt other people.”

It’s a pretty little act. A perfect John Hughes speech with just enough reality to appeal to a pre-teen who wants to be grown up and Sam is eating it up with wide, wet eyes. Stu is devoting all of his energy to not laughing. 

Sleeping with Chrissy may have been an experiment, but Billy sure as shit didn’t care about hurting anyone. He didn’t then, and he definitely doesn’t now. 

“I’m bisexual,” Stu adds because he needs to puncture the sincerity somehow. Billy punches him — playfully — in the side. 

“She doesn’t care about that.”

Stu pouts. “She should. I’m her stepdad.”

“Like fuck you are. We aren’t even married.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Stu says, mainly to Sam, who giggles. 

“Alright clown, you’ve proved your point,” Billy says. There’s fondness in his voice, but also a familiar glint that tells Stu he’ll be paying for every smart comment he’s made tonight.

Oh well, in for a penny. 

Stu places his chin on his hand, with his elbow on the counter. His head is tilted to the side slightly and he schools his face into the picture of innocence. “So your dad left you because your mom cheated?” he starts. “That’s crazy. That’s gotta make you mad.” 

He doesn’t see Billy move, but as soon as the words are out Stu feels Billy’s nails dig into his thigh under the table.

“I guess,” Sam says, “I feel bad for my little sister more than anything else. She’s done nothing wrong.”

“Neither did you,” Billy points out. Sam shrugs and it’s clear she doesn’t believe him. Stu wonders if her mom has anything to do with that. 

“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is,” she says softly. “He left Tara even though she’s his proper daughter. She’s only eight.”

“That’s rough,” Stu agrees. He can’t get his head around the fact that Christina fucking Billy back in high school has messed this guy up enough that he decided to up and leave his entire family. Maybe he thinks Billy is still a threat, that if he knows about Sam, he’ll come back for Chrissy as well. Billy and Stu aren’t exactly high school reunion people, so maybe Mr Carpenter doesn’t realize how wrong that idea is. Well, he’s not a threat to his marriage at any rate.

“I’m sorry,” Billy says. He even sounds like he means it. “Sorry that all this with your dad has happened mean. I’m not sorry that you exist.”

It’s not even a real acknowledgment of any parental responsibility on Billy’s part, it’s a bare minimum nicety, but Sam brightens as though he’s offered her a place to live. Maybe kids are a lot easier than Stu has imagined. 

Sam’s bravado is all but gone now, leaving in its place a shy smile. “I know I need to go home, but can I stay? Just for a bit?”

Billy looks at Stu and for the first time in a very long time, Stu has trouble gauging what he’s thinking. He’s pretty sure Billy is curious about Sam but to what end, Stu has no clue. 

“Sure,” Stu says, making an executive decision. “How about we meet the dogs and I can tell you all about how your daddy wooed me.”

Sam’s giggle is louder than the daggers Billy is shooting at his back, and totally worth it.

The journey back to Woodboro is easy. They very rarely make the trip, but the place is still burned into their bones. Hank Loomis still lives there, and so do Stu’s folks. When Stu and Billy got together – officially, anyway – it gave Hank an almost acceptable reason to cut ties with Billy, and Stu never had ties with his parents to begin with. At least Stu’s sister is somewhat cool. Her living in Santa Monica is just another reason to avoid anything and everything to do with Woodsboro.

Christina Carpenter doesn’t live that far from where her parents used to if Stu remembers correctly. The only part he’s certain of is that the current Carpenter house is three blocks away from where Tatum used to live. Stu used to know these streets well, but as with everything from before 1996, the memories have faded to a hazy highlight reel. 

They drop Sam off around the corner, so her mom won’t spot the car. It’s probably not the most responsible move – Stu is positive that most people would go talk to the adult in charge and let them know that their kid had hitched multiple towns over. They are not normal, however, and Sam is too young to notice the difference. It works in their favor because Sam has gotten what she wants and Billy and Stu can delay any meetings until they feel like it’s necessary. They’re the cool adults and the power is in their hands.

Considering their current situation is something Stu never would’ve predicted in a gagillion years, he’d say they handled it pretty well. 

Later – too many hours later, and finally alone in their home – Billy and Stu brush their teeth next to each other in their little blue and white ensuite and Stu grins the entire time. He’s humming as he rinses his mouth and spits. The palpable annoyance he can feel coming off the man next to him only increases his giddiness.

“We’re not keeping her,” Billy hisses. He doesn’t look at Stu, not even his reflection. It’s hysterical.

“I know that. I’m not the one who spent the entire time looking at her with puppy dog eyes. I like my actual puppies. Kids are weird.”

“I don’t want her,” Billy starts, but despite the way he waves his toothbrush at Stu the protestation is useless. The only one who can truly see through Billy is Stu. Plus, now Billy meets his eyes it shows Stu all he needs to know. “And it’s not puppy dog . I just know what she’s going through, that’s all.”

Stu laughs. “I know that. I also know the way your mind works. You’re interested.”

“Interested doesn’t mean I want to be a dad.”

“No one said that. But you’re the one who brought up keeping her.” 

Billy rolls his eyes as he starts on his skin care. Stu washes his face with water and uses his shirt to wipe off the excess. “That’s what keeping her would mean, fuckrag. If you have a child you are a parent.”

“Tell that to ours,” Stu snorts. That gets a laugh out of Billy. 

“True. We couldn’t do much worse than them.”

Stu leans against the counter and watches Billy as he continues to make his face and pretty and fresh as a girl. “Now it’s we, is it?”

Billy doesn’t so much as twitch. His fingers continue to rub small circles under his eyes where faint lines have settled.

“Do you think she wants to kill you?” Stu asks when Billy fails to answer his other taunt, “Do you think you’re the reason her dad left? That you broke up that family?”

Stu is pushing Billy, he knows that. Even as off-kilter as he will be right now, it’s a dangerous game. That's exactly why he does it. 

“No,” Billy answers, his voice soft and even. Deceptively deadly. “No, her mother is a coward. She’s the one who hid it. The father isn’t much better. He left, even though he has another kid. They’re both assholes. Worthless.”

Billy puts the cap back on his moisturizers and creams and puts them back in their place in the cupboard, neat as a pin. As with most things, Billy’s movements are controlled and purposeful. Never an inch wasted. It’s something Stu has often envied. Instead of dwelling on that, however, Stu lets Billy finish his rountine because he knows well enough that if he interrupts it, or makes Billy skip a step, he’ll pay. And not in a fun way. But once he’s done, Stu grabs Billy’s hips, turns him, and pushes him back against the counter. 

“We could kill them, sweetheart,” Stu murmurs, words brushing against Billy's lips. “If you want.”

As expected, Billy’s eyes get dark. Stu knows that he’s been thinking the same thing, ever since Sam told them about her dad leaving. 

“It’d have to be clean,” Billy says, “really clean. Suicide or an accident.” Stu loves that he doesn’t even pretend to have to consider it. No, Billy is already planning. 

“No more Woodsboro corpses,” Stu says, reminding both of them of the promise they made after ‘96. 

“Exactly.”

Stu squeezes Billy’s hips and kisses him softly. It’s sweet and romantic despite how his heart is already beginning to race. He’s also been half-hard since they got home. Billy is on the same page, as he always is, and sticks his hands down the back of Stu’s sweats.

“You aren’t subtle either, Stu. I know what you want,” Billy says in a rough, low voice. “Chrissy is the only other girl I slept with aside from Sid. The only other person . You kill her and you’re the only one alive who’s ever had me.”

“Billy, fuck ,” Stu gasps. He buries his face in Billy’s neck and mouths at the skin, letting his teeth graze but not biting, not yet. “You can’t just say shit like that.”

“Oh, I can’t? Are you going to tell me what to do or are you going to shut up and let me give you what you need? I don’t have to be so nice.”

Face still hidden, Stu groans and clutches Billy’s shirt desperately. He grinds his hips forward and thankfully Billy lets him. 

“Are you going to be a good dog for me?” Billy asks. He asks it so gently and sweetly that Stu knows that no matter his answer, Billy will make him hurt. He can’t wait. 

“Yes, always,” Stu says quickly, reverently. He stops hiding and looks at Billy again. The answering grin is pure evil.

After Billy takes his time thoroughly taking Stu apart and putting him back together, he’s quiet. It doesn’t worry Stu. Billy will go for hours without talking sometimes, and Stu will happily fill the silence until Billy is ready to voice whatever is on his mind.

“We’ll do it,” Billy says finally. “We just need a plan.”

It takes a second for the words to filter through Stu’s mind but when he catches up, his grin is dopey and lovesick, and he doesn’t remotely care. He kisses Billy once more, a quick press of his lips, and then he scrambles out of bed. 

“I’ll get the DVDs.”