Archive of Our Own ^beta

The sun had dipped behind the rooftops of the sleepy town, washing everything in warm golds and pale pinks. It was the kind of peace Rachel Fairchild didn’t trust. Peace wasn’t real. It was most likely a trap.

But Kyle stood beside her on the porch, arms crossed over her weathered leather jacket, and peace.. maybe, started to feel real. Tangible. Someone you could touch.

“You’re quiet,” Kyle said, nudging Rachel’s elbow. “Usually by now you’re roasting me for wearing boots in summer.”

Rachel smirked faintly. “You do look like a biker mom trying to join a punk band.”

“There she is,” Kyle teased. “The emotional porcupine I’ve grown to love.”

That made Rachel pause. Her gaze dropped to the porch floor. Love, it was a loaded word, especially coming from someone like Kyle.. someone who’d lost so much.

“How did you do it?” Rachel finally asked. “How are you still here? After… all of it?”

Kyle exhaled, long and slow. “That’s a big question.”

“We’ve got time.”

Kyle hesitated, then turned to lean against the railing. She looked out at the empty street, the way someone looks when they’re sifting through ghosts.

“I was 17 when it happened. When Chucky killed my foster family. Andy and I were just… trying to survive. After that, everything got complicated. We were dragged into more of his games—more dolls, more bodies. We split up for a while, but we always circled back. Andy never gave up. Not really.”

Rachel listened, still and quiet.

“I tried to have a life,” Kyle continued. “Tried to forget it all. But it’s hard to settle down when you’re always waiting for that little bastard to show up again. I got tired of losing people. Got tired of looking over my shoulder.”

Rachel swallowed. “And now?”

“Now I’m just tired,” Kyle said with a dry laugh.

Silence fell for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Kyle glanced at her again, her voice softer.

“Then I met you.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow. “You tackled me in a gas station because you thought I was smuggling a Good Guy doll in my bag.”

“Well, to be fair, you tackled me back.”

“Yeah, well…” Rachel shrugged. “Most people either try to kill me or interview me for some true crime podcast.”

Kyle grew serious again. “I didn’t want to do either. I just wanted to know if you were okay..”

Rachel blinked. That memory.. the way Kyle had sat across from her at that grimy gas station diner, offered her fries without asking questions. It came back with full clarity. It had been one of the first times anyone treated her like a person after being suspected of Principal McVey's murder.

“You didn’t look at me like I was, I don't know– A crazy person.. ” Rachel said quietly.

“Because you’re not.”

“I’ve done things, Kyle.”

“So have I, especially to survive ” Kyle replied. “Doesn’t mean we don’t get to live.”

They looked at each other then. Really looked. Rachel’s eyes were always sharp, suspicious, but now, something in them softened. “You think we could ever be normal?” Rachel asked.

Kyle leaned in, her voice low. “Screw normal. I just want something real.”

Rachel smiled, lips trembling just a little. “You always say things like that right before you kiss me.”

“That’s because I mean them.”

Kyle reached out, brushing a red lock of hair from Rachel’s cheek, her fingers lingering there like she didn’t want to let go. Rachel leaned into the touch.

“I’m not good at this..”

“You’re doing just fine, Pookie.”

Rachel snorted, trying to hide her grin. “Don’t call me Pookie.”

“Too late.”

Their lips met, slow and gentle. It wasn’t desperate or rushed. It was the kind of kiss two survivors shared when they finally let go of everything heavy.

And after a while, Rachel pulled away just enough to rest her forehead against Kyle’s.

“I never thought I’d feel this,” she whispered. “Safe.”

Kyle smiled. “You’re not alone, Rach. Not anymore.”

Rachel hadn’t meant to lean in again, but Kyle was there, so close, and there was something electric in the silence that hung between them. It was that breathless, charged stillness.

Then Kyle kissed her again. This time, it wasn’t careful.

Rachel’s hands curled into Kyle’s jacket like she was afraid she’d disappear. Kyle responded in kind, her arms winding tight around Rachel’s waist, holding her like she was something precious and maybe as broken as her.. but worth holding anyway.

Rachel kissed like someone who didn’t get to do this often. Like someone who wasn’t sure there would be another chance. Their lips collided again, more insistent now, and Kyle let out a soft, helpless sound that sent a thrill down Rachel’s spine.

They didn’t come up for air for a while.

Maybe the first time in years either of them felt truly at peace.

Which meant, of course, that the universe would find a way to ruin it.

The door creaked open.

Rachel froze.

Kyle pulled back, squinting at the doorway just as Andy stepped out, followed by Jake, Nica, Devon, and Lexy, each carrying bags, jackets, or pizza boxes, clearly mid-conversation. Andy was already talking.

“…and I swear, if that Chucky head says one more creepy—”

He stopped.

They all did.

Five faces. Staring. Silent. Pizza box hanging midair in Jake's hands. Rachel still had her fingers in Kyle’s jacket. Kyle’s lipstick was a little smeared.

Andy just blinked at them. “Oh.”

Devon looked between the two and let out a single, "Damn."

Jake, wide-eyed, elbowed Lexy, who was already snickering. "I told you they had something going on."

“I—wow,” Lexy said, laughing. “Okay, go off, mommy Kyle.”

Rachel groaned and hid her face in Kyle’s shoulder. “Kill me now, please.”

“Not a chance,” Kyle muttered, trying to suppress a grin. “I’m enjoying this too much.”

Andy just stared, processing. “Kyle, Rachel you’re…?”

“Yeah,” Kyle said, coolly brushing her hair back. “We’re hooking up. Got a problem with that?”

Andy held up both hands. “Nope. Just, processing what I walked in on.”

Nica looked amused, nudging Andy in the leg as she was sat in her wheelchair.

“Well, it’s about time someone in this group had a little romance besides the obvious, that didn’t involve trauma and murder.”

“Give it time,” Devon muttered.

Rachel peeked out from Kyle’s shoulder, cheeks red, clearly flustered. “Can we pretend this never happened?”

“Nope,” said Nica, grinning. “Group chat’s gonna hear all about this.”

Kyle chuckled and pulled Rachel closer, whispering against her ear, “Next time we make out, we’re doing it inside and locking the damn door.”

Rachel just glanced at her. “Or we just let them walk in again. You look really smug right now..”

From the doorway, Andy sighed. “I miss when the scariest thing I had to see was a possessed doll.”