Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In a small town like Haddonfield, you learn fast who you can and can't trust.

I moved here when I was ten. It was just me and my mom for the longest time. Back then, she was still my entire world. I thought I was hers, but I was wrong.

She started going on dates, with some rich guy who turned out to be the mayor of this shitty ass small town, and eventually he proposed to her. She showed me the ring, a big ugly one that I loathed. It wasn't so much how the ring looked.

It was how he looked at me.

Despite being a twelve year old- that's how old I was when I was first introduced to him- I knew better than well what that look meant.

I wore a bright pink poofy dress at the wedding. I actually kind of liked the dress, but I hated all that it signified. I was now going to be living with a monster in my house.

The first time he tried something on me, I was prepared.

It was late at night, only a couple of weeks after the wedding, and they had just come back from their honeymoon. I snuck out of my room to go down the dark hall to the bathroom. I could feel the small multi-purpose tool I kept in my pant pocket, one of the few things I had from my late father. It had a blade, a nail file, mini scissors, a screwdriver, a bottle opener, among other things.

I'd need the first one real soon.

I unlocked the door after I finished my business, and none other than my mother's new husband was waiting outside for me, trying to look all innocent,

"You know you shouldn't be up so late, right?"

I shoved my left hand deep into my pajama pant pocket, clutching at the tool, preparing the blade,

"I was just pissing."

He scoffed, leaning in closer, his breath hot and disgusting smelling, like he ate onions,

"You know, little sluts like you should be more careful."

He tried to close the door behind himself, and force me into a corner, but was too slow, and I managed to slash him across his face.

He shouted loudly, calling for my mother, calling me a little bitch, and pressing his hand against the wound. Now that I reflect on this, the only little bitch was him, but that's neither here nor there.

I truly don't remember much for a while after that. There were lots of meetings with all sorts of people with fancy degrees, psychiatrists and therapists, using all sorts of words. Those few days were a blur. 

Eventually, my mother's husband, because calling him a stepfather is too kind, managed to convince her to commit me. And with that, I was hauled off to Smith's Grove Sanitarium on my thirteenth birthday.

One hell of a gift. 

At first, they kept me mostly sedated. I'd spend the days toying with the multi-purpose tool that I'd somehow managed to sneak in. I made sure no one saw it, and it was made even easier by the fact that I had no roommate. Getting caught with it meant losing it forever, and I couldn't lose the one thing I still had of my father. 

A week or so later, maybe even a month later, I had lost track of time so badly, they stopped sedating me. They probably realized that I wouldn't do anything, and with no longer being sedated came new privileges. I was allowed to eat at meal times with all of the other minors and go to classes.

Some kids tried to talk to me, but it quickly became clear to them that I wasn't interested. I wasn't rude to them, but I wasn't overly friendly either. What was the point? Back then I still thought that maybe one day my mother would wake up and come save me. I'd be out of there sooner or later.

I later found out she was too busy popping out babies with her new husband to care about her previous husband's daughter. Three boys. To her, I was just a reminder of a past life that she was no longer in. A past of struggling with the bills. Why relive that when you could live in luxury if you turn a blind eye to a couple of things?

To be fair, It was better at the hospital anyways. 

There was only one other person the other patients would steer clear of.

Michael.

He was tall for thirteen, and perpetually silent. Normally, people would have chalked it up to teenage hormones, but not in his case. Everyone knew that he was a monster. The worst of the worst.

At just six, he'd managed to kill his own sister. He stabbed her so many times that the body was barely recognizable. According to some of the other kids, Michael was the devil himself or possessed by Satan.

Dr. Loomis, the head psychiatrist at Smith's Grove, brushed them off, making it all seem like jokes, but they weren't. He had the darkest eyes I had ever seen, with not a single light inside them.

I didn't find him scary though.

In fact, I'd sit next to him during meal times just so that the other kids would get the hint that I wasn't interested. I didn't try to talk to him either. Well, at least at first I didn't. 

Every day when we had lunch they'd give us some bread alongside whatever slop they'd found in the darkness of the kitchen.

The bread was the best part, but Michael never ate his. I'd always eat mine first, as like a treat for enduring the day.

"Hey," I whispered one day while no one was looking.

He didn't even turn to look at me.

I continued quietly,

"You don't have to respond, but I was just wondering if I could have your bread. I know you don't usually eat it, so-"

He turned, his head tilting to the side, and my eyes went wide with shock. This was the first time I had ever seen him respond to something anyone had ever said.

"I-"

The bread dropped on my tray with a loud clank, but the other kids didn't hear since the cafeteria was always so loud. 

I nodded, whispering again,

"Thank you."

From then on, every day, he would give me his bread.

After a while, I started trying to make conversation with him. I guess it had finally gotten into my head that I wasn't going to be leaving anytime soon, and I had started to get lonely. At first, he wouldn't respond or even look my way, but slowly over time I started to understand his little gestures. A tilt of a head or a small hand gesture or a slight nod. It looked like nothing if you weren't paying any attention, but I understood.

And over time, over the course of the next four years grew feelings that I didn't understand.

Well, I knew what they meant. I wasn't an idiot or clueless. I didn't understand why I felt that way about him. Why I cared about someone who was never going to be allowed to leave Smith's Grove considering the fact that I'd be released the day after my eighteenth birthday. My eighteenth birthday, a day I had once looked so forward to, was now coming closer and closer, and as it approached, the more I dreaded the idea.

I ran a hand through my long hair that was uneven and full of split ends from my lack of hair cuts over the past few years. All of the boys' hair was perpetually kept in a short buzz while the girls were never given hair cuts. 

Tomorrow I'd be free. Free to do whatever I wanted whether it be to my hair or to myself except to have the one person that I still cared about.

A tap on my shoulder made me jolt upright and straight out of my thoughts.

Michael.

Shit.

My face heated up and I hoped silently that he didn't notice,

"What's up," I whispered as he sat down next to me, patting my head as if I was a child. I sighed. His way of saying not much, you?

"Didn't you hear," I continued, "I'm getting out tomorrow."

He nodded slowly, once, then twice.

"Yeah. What do you think about it?"

He frowned for a brief moment then shrugged.

Of course.

Who was I kidding?

Michael was going to be fine without me.

I tried to play it off,

"Hey no need to bawl all over me. They said that I got accepted at the university. Full ride as an English major. I'll be taken care of at least."

He looked down at his hands then back at me and smiled softly. A fake smile.

Funny.

I shook my head,

"I mean, at least I won't have to move back in with my mom and her husband and their brats. I can move in tomorrow. Pray that my roommate doesn't think I'm crazy."

He scowled.

"Hey I mean...I've probably deserved to be here," I shrugged, standing up from the wall were sitting against, "Besides, most people don't like the idea of rooming with a former psych ward patient."

He stood up abruptly, sandwiching me between the wall and his chest. I wasn't short, hell I was pretty tall for a girl, but Michael was even taller.

My face heated up.

His hands fumbled around for a moment before finding a place on my shoulders, latching onto them hard. His breath was hot as he leaned into my neck, speaking in a hoarse whisper, the first time I ever heard his voice,

"I-I'll kill them if they treat you badly."

My eyes widened,

"What-"

His eyes locked on mine and for the first time I felt true fear in the presence of Michael Myers,

"Michael-"

Before I could react properly, he smashed our mouths together.

For a first kiss, something I didn't expect to be happening anytime soon, it wasn't terrible. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Where he had to have learned to kiss so well was beyond me.

He pulled away just as abruptly, a wild look in those dark as midnight eyes. He wasn't saying anything but wasn't pulling away either, locked onto me as if I was his prey.

Maybe I was.

I yanked him back by his collar into another kiss.

Maybe that had been the beginning of my fuck ups.

Dr. Loomis had always forbidden inmate romances; those who were caught were punished, and I'd heard of patients who had ended up pregnant before, their babies being taken away.

But this was different. This was our one chance, the one time we might ever have. It wasn't like someone as high profile as Michael was allowed to have visitors of any sort. Loomis also forbade that.

I sighed softly as he bit into my neck gently, my hands fumbling with the collar of his uniform. He pulled away for a moment, staring at me, head tilted, as if saying 

Are you sure?

I nodded once,

"Always."

Our clothes fell to the ground, mine hitting with a clank.

My pocket tool.

His eyes shifted to my clothes, picking it up, and fidgeting with it until he found the knife,

"Michael-"

He shook his head,

Don't worry.

He used it on himself, carving into his left upper arm a letter.

My first initial.

He looked at me, almost nervously,

Can I?

I nodded, waiting.

He carved a small M into my left arm.

Mine.

Michael.

The next day I was released, stuck in the car with Loomis. He'd handed me an oversized black shirt and matching colored jeans,

"So, how do you feel being released?"

I shrugged, trying to force back tears at the thought of never being able to see Michael again,

"Fine. I'm ready for school."

He nodded,

"Your family has already sent all you'll need to your dorm."

My eyes widened,

"Family?"

He nodded again, seeming more somber this time,

"It would be good for you to see them, wouldn't you think? Try to make amends."

I rolled my eyes looking out the window, forcing away tears, clearing my throat,

"Just drive, Dr. Loomis."

Chapter Text

The university dorm was spacious compared to my old cell, the bed a million times softer, and I had been physically free for the last seven weeks. My heart, though, felt like I was caged still.

I wondered what Michael was doing. Judging by the time on my phone, courtesy of Dr. Loomis, a parting gift, it was breakfast time at Smith’s Grove.

Eight thirty Am.

I rubbed my eyes looking across the room at my roommate, Laurie Strode.

She was from Haddonfield, the same place that Michael had committed his crimes. I managed to not tell her about my past quite yet, but as we got closer, the truth was bound to come out.

I wondered if she knew my mother. 

I jumped out of the lofted bed, getting ready for my nine thirty class, English 1102.

My closet was full of basics of varying neutrals, so I could just throw on any shirt and pair of pants and walk out to the dining hall for breakfast.

Breakfast.

My stomach lurched at the thought of breakfast. Loomis told me it was probably some stomach bug that was on campus and since my immune system was weak from years of imprisonment, I had some catching up to do.

It couldn’t be the other thing…

I could not afford to be pregnant.

I rubbed my temple as I walked past the dining hall and just went to catch a bus to class instead.

If I was…pregnant, how would I even tell Michael?

I shook my head forcing away those thoughts, making myself focus on the day of classes ahead.

By the end of my last class, I stumbled back into my room, falling onto my bed, before sitting back up, fishing out a cheap gas station pregnancy test. 

Just to be safe, I thought, when I was buying it.

Better to be safe than sorry.

My period had never been regular either so I was probably overreacting. I mean… we hadn’t used protection so it was…more than possible-

I sat down on the communal bathroom stall hot piss falling on the test as I sighed softly setting a timer for fifteen minutes and so I began waiting.

Not even seven minutes in I could see the second line forming.

Fuck.

I was pregnant.

I was pregnant with none other than notorious murderer Michael Myers’ child.

I rubbed my forehead, running a hand through my hair. 

Shit.

I got off the toilet, barricading myself in my room. I was beyond grateful that my roommate was still in class.

My eyes burned hot with shame.

How would I even take care of this child?

Loomis' words rang in my ears 

It would be good for you to see them, wouldn't you think? Try to make amends.

I sighed.

Would I really be willing to go back to them? Just so I could maybe just maybe give this child some sense of stability. 

I rubbed my temple again, pulling out the tool my father gave me, playing with the different features, trying to come up with some sort of a rational plan.

Knife.

Scissors.

Screwdriver-

I wanted to keep the child.

I knew that much.

I wanted to give it a better life than I had. 

But that might also mean going back to that...family.

I sighed putting the tool down and picking up the shitty phone Loomis gave me. My contacts list was short, but at the bottom was my mother.

The phone rang a few times before she picked up,

"Hello?"

I sighed softly,

"This is your daughter."

She gasped softly, loud enough that I knew she knew it was me, but then the voice went cold,

"I'm sorry, but I only have three sons. Please don't call this number anymore."

The line went dead.

A tear slid from my eyes. Then another. And another, and my face was full of tears in just a matter of minutes.

Three sons. No daughter.

I was dead to her now.

I was truly alone.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to make sense of it all.

I had to beg Loomis to let me see Michael.

My fingers hovered over Loomis' contact in my phone for a solid few minutes before finally pressing it.

"Hello?"

I sighed softly,

"Dr. Loomis. I...I need to see Michael."

He seemed to stammer for a few moments, trying to look for the right words,

"You know I can't let you do that. Michael is a genuine risk to society."

"I'm pregnant."

Loomis laughed nervously,

"And? You're not telling me..."

"Michael's the father. He's the only person that I've..."

Loomis said nothing for a long while before interrupting the silence,

"What do you want to do about the child?"

"I want to keep it."

Loomis groaned softly,

"Alright. I still can't let you see him though."

I sighed,
"Doesn't he have the right to know about his child?"

Loomis laughed, but it was the kind of laugh that meant he was only two steps away from lashing out at me,

"A murderer, especially one like him, shouldn't be reproducing in the first place. I can't convince you to give up the child, but I will not let you bring them anywhere near him."

I scowled,

"He's still their father."

"I don't care. That's the end of it. Now, have you figured out how you're going to support you and that child? Your family is only willing to pay for your college education, which most aren't. I wouldn't try to push it anymore."

"Fine."

I would figure out some other way to let Michael know.

In the meanwhile, getting Loomis' help would be useful for now.

Chapter Text

-Michael Myers' POV-

The moment Loomis hung up the phone, Michael could sense something was being hidden from him. Something relating to her.

Her.

The image of her beautiful face flashed through his mind. Her face when he marked her, her face when he finished in her, the last time he had gotten to see her.

Michael tried to rack his brain of things that it could be.

It was definitely relating to him judging by the way Loomis had been looking at Michael even more nervously than usual. Or maybe the way Loomis' gaze hovered over him for an extra second each time or the way he seemed to stammer more often.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

He'd get to the bottom of this.

It was midnight, or around midnight. From what he could tell, it was mid or late October, and it was pouring outside.

He was going to be the first person to ever escape from Smith's Grove.

The beat up car was stolen, obviously, taken from an unsuspecting Loomis who probably had no idea Michael had been watching him drive, learning secretly how each part worked.

He was a pretty good driver if he said so himself.

It was true he'd let some other inmates go in the process, but they were just distractions. Besides, Loomis and his crew would probably round them back up by tomorrow night. 

Michael, though?

He wasn't going to be found.

Ever.

He had to make sure to protect what was his, and that meant not going back to Smith's Grove.

First, he'd stop by Haddonfield. That's where her family lived. It was so funny how she'd moved to the exact place he once lived also, but only after he'd been shipped away to Smith's Grove. It was no matter.

They were always destined to meet. 

He knew who her mother's husband was, where he lived, and his...preference for younger girls. If it were up to him, he'd kill the sick fuck, but she had made him promise not to do such a thing if he ever got out. Not to do anything to ever be sent back.

He parked the car while the rain was pouring down even harder. Their lights were all off, which was expected being about two in the morning by now and all. 

It didn't matter anyways. He unlocked the door with ease.

It was silent all throughout the house as he crept up the old stairs towards the master bedroom. Another door that was then opened easily, and then a large bed, with an older man and a significantly younger woman sleeping together in it.

Michael grabbed the man, covering his mouth with his hands to prevent him shouting and alerting everyone else of Michael's presence. One simple harder tap to the back of the man's head was, thankfully, enough to shut him up until Michael got him somewhere more...

Private.

Now, she had made him promise not to kill this...piece of work, but Michael never promised not to maim him. 

The old bastard was tied to a chair, somewhere deep in the Haddonfield woods that would take hours of searching to locate. Not that Michael minded.

He was indeed going to keep his promise to her.

He pulled out a sheet of paper as the man started to rouse, trying to fight against the restraints that covered him everywhere, including his mouth.

Michael shook his head slightly, holding up the paper where in large red ink wrote,

Where is she

Michael removed the mouth restraints, waiting for an answer but all that came out was a scream. Michael smirked.

Good.

He put back the restraint, scribbling quickly and then holding it up,

Tell me or else I'll start removing limbs you find important. Should I start with your favorite part? Make sure you don't try to touch any other little girls?

The man shook his head violently, and Michael once again removed the gag,

"She's at... the university. That's all I know! Please don't kill me!"

Michael resisted the urge to laugh as he put the restraint back, pulling out a knife, and putting at the man's throat.

"NO PLEASE-"

Before the man could scream any further, he cut off a finger with swiftness that could not be human.

Next time he'd come back for something else. But if he did it now, the man would lose too much blood before rescuers would find him. He could not break his promise.

The car barely had enough gas to get him to the university, but at least Michael had had the foresight to grab some clothing from that house to change into. He stood out a lot less thanks to that.

Michael walked around campus all day, trying anything just to catch a glimpse of her, trying to sense where she might be. 

It was close to midnight when he spotted her, walking back from the library.

Mine.

He grabbed her shoulders, covering her mouth gently, yanking her into a forested area,

"Hel-"

He turned her to face him, and she went silent for a brief moment before speaking again,

"Michael? What are you doing here?"

He smiled softly, a small one, before pulling out a notepad and pen, writing quickly,

I...wanted to see you. Loomis made it seem like something had happened.

He yanked her close to his body, leaning into her neck, breathing deeply in, taking her in.

She smelled different, like she was ill.

Something was wrong with her body.

You're sick.

Her face seemed to heat up as she stammered,

"I-I'm fine, Michael, I'm just tired. Being out is...a lot."

She was lying.

I thought there were no secrets between us.

She shook her head,

"I...Michael..."

"I'm pregnant."

Chapter Text

"I'm pregnant."

The words hung between us, the silence pressing down hard on both of us. It was something I couldn't take back and something I wouldn't take back. Fuck Loomis. Michael deserved to know.

He scribbled on the notepad again,

Does Loomis know?

I nodded,

"I...I was hoping he'd tell you, but he refused."

Michael nodded for the slightest second before writing some more,

I'll...take responsibility.

I shook my head,

"How? You're on the run, Michael. If anyone spots you, you'll be shipped back off to Smith's Grove and they'll put you under maximum security. Protect yourself first, Michael."

He shook his head,

No.

I scowled,

"I want what's best for you."

He scoffed,

And I want to be able to see our child.

"How can we raise them right if we're always on the run? I...I don't want to hurt them."

Michael pulled me in close, whispering softly, his voice hoarse,

"We'll make it...work."

He buried his face in my hair, sighing softly, as I whispered back into his neck,

"Michael...save yourself. Do it for me. If not for me, then do it for our child."

Michael, ever stubborn, shook his head,

"N-No."

He pulled away staring at me as he wrote on his notepad again,

I'll follow you to the ends of the Earth. You're mine.

I couldn't even respond before he yanked me in for a hard kiss, his tongue pressing hard against mine, a soft whimper escaping from my lips as he continued his attack on my mouth. He sucked hard on my tongue, tracing all around my mouth, marking his territory there, before moving to my neck, leaving dark marks all across the soft skin and my collarbone. 

"Mi-Michael!"

He stopped abruptly, looking at me, head tilted to the side, silent.

My heart raced.

I had to do this.

I had to push him away. Loomis was right. I was naive. Michael Myers wouldn't be able to help raise this child,

"Michael, I'm going to have an abortion."

The lie slipped from my lips so easily. Too easily considering what I was doing.

I was a monster wasn't I?

But I couldn't let Michael get caught, and I couldn't just run off with him. Running with away with a pregnant woman was a recipe for getting sent back to Smith's Grove. I wasn't going to be the reason he went back to that shithole and was kept under even stricter watch. He wouldn't be able to escape a second time for sure. Anyone like Michael who had escaped once was kept in solitary permanently afterwards. There was no chance of freedom or coming back from that.

He scribbled furiously on the paper,

What?

I stared at him,

"I don't love you so I don't want to have your child."

I turned on my heel and ran off, not wanting to see what kind of face Michael was making. I might have stayed otherwise. Might have told him it was a lie, that I did love him and wanted to have a family with him, but no. 

I had to do the right thing. I had to...save him, keep him away from that place.  

I slipped into my room, and once again I was glad Laurie, my roommate, wasn't here. She wouldn't get to see the tears pouring down from my eyes across my face.

I...

I wish I had at least told him good bye.

Please Michael...please have a good life.

Twelve Years Later:

"Happy birthday, darling," I smiled as Autumn, my daughter walked into the living room. She was already tall at twelve, and she looked so much like Michael. 

Michael...

I hadn't seen him in almost thirteen years at this point. I wondered how he was doing often. I know he hadn't ever been recaptured from what Loomis told me. 

Good for him.

It was just me and Autumn, and always was. Laurie would come over a lot, being an honorary aunt and all, but at the end of the day, we were the perfect duo.

Chapter Text

Despite looking just like Michael, Autumn had the complete opposite demeanor. She was social and friendly and talkative. No one would ever believe that her father was the notorious murderer Michael Myers.

Speaking of...Michael.

While I hadn't seen him since that night, many others had been the victim of his sharp blade. I heard that exactly a year after our conversation, he'd gone on a mass killing spree in our hometown. Laurie, my sweet freshman year roommate had been there, and was one of the few survivors. It shortly after came out that she and Michael were siblings. Official blamed it on Michael wanting to exterminate his last family member.

I knew better.

Michael was beyond pissed.

I told her the truth of Autumn's parentage the next time I saw her.

It seems Loomis had had a sense of humor when picking who my college roommate would be. This kind of stuff didn't happen as a coincidence. Perhaps he knew Michael would eventually escape.

It was good that Autumn had at least a small piece of her father's family. 

Speaking of the old doctor, he checked in with us occasionally. He was the one who had given me a new identity after Michael's escape. My new name was Maxie Wells, but I knew who I truly was deep down.

The M scar on me spoke words.

I kept it hidden always, always making sure Autumn or no one else would see it, question it.

I'd do anything to protect my daughter. 

After dropping my daughter off at school, I rushed to my job. I worked as a hairstylist at the sole hair place in our small town, another small town, over two hundred fifty miles from Haddonfield. 

Somewhere Dr. Loomis had assured me Michael would never find.

Sometimes I fantasized about Michael finding us, about what might happen. Of course, these were delusional fantasies of where only good things came from this.

More likely than not?

Nothing good would come from this. 

Plus, Autumn and I had built a life here in this tiny town. It wouldn't be fair to uproot us, to always be on the run. 

Although...I wouldn't mind the physical aspects.

I hadn't slept with anyone since that one time with Michael. Laurie would always joke about how I'd practically regained my virginity by now.

I shook my head.

It was no use dwelling on the past anyways. It wouldn't help anyone.

He had never been caught though...

The day finished fast, and almost as soon as it had started, I was back in my room, in my bed, trying to fall asleep.

It was dark, and silent.

Too silent.

Something...or someone was outside.

I went to go check up on Autumn before dealing with whatever might be there. 

Her door was ajar. 

The light was on.

It couldn't be...right?

I peeked in and thankfully Autumn was still fast asleep somehow, but hovering beside her bed was none other than the obvious.

One Michael Myers.

I turned off the lights, but he was already staring at me, his dark gazing piercing my soul.

I backed out of the room slowly, and he followed, shutting the door quietly behind him.

I sped up, almost running backwards as he continued to follow. Eventually we made it outside onto my patio.

"Michael."

He scowled, pulling out a notepad,

Who's child is she.

I shook my head,

"It's not-"

She's mine isn't she?

I could lie.

"N-no."

He seemed to laugh bitterly for a second, just without the noise.

Another lie. She looks just like me. It seems I didn't know you as well as I thought I did.

I pursed my lips together,

"I did what was best for both you and her."

He wrote furiously,

You did what you thought was best for me and her, which was taking the easy way out. Who else knows?

"...Loomis and Laurie."

I want my daughter.

I scoffed,

"Do you really think it would be a good idea to introduce you to her just like that? Hey Autumn, meet your dad, notorious serial murderer Michael Myers!"

Figure it out. Not my problem.

I frowned,

"She's my daughter too, and I don't think you would be a good influence to her. Now leave before I call the police."
Michael frowned again,

You'll regret this.

Chapter Text

-Michael Myers' POV-

He made it seem like he'd let it go. He stayed away for weeks, made her get complacent again, think that she'd scared him off. 

No.

She'd never get rid of him now. Not after having their child. Not even before, letting him mark her with his initial. 

He traced a finger across his mark given to him by her that fateful night. The night that had changed everything, changing them from just friends to whatever this mess was now. 

Did she hate him?

No.

Michael knew she was a fucking liar. He had spent so much time with her that he could read her like a book, and he'd use that against her.

It was time.

Autumn's school got out at three p.m., and Michael had been staking out the area for the past few weeks, waiting for the perfect moment. On Thursdays, Autumn would usually walk home since her...mother had work till late that day. 

It was the perfect crisp cool fall day.

She didn't even realize that Michael was behind her. 

He felt bad having to knock her out, but he couldn't have her drawing too much attention to them. 

He managed to steal a car, some older relic like one, but it would get the job done. 

He drove far out of the city, into an abandoned barn.

Unfortunately, he had to tie her up, couldn't have her escaping before he explained the truth.

When she finally came to, she immediately started screaming,

"HELP! MOMMY-"

Michael scribbled on the notepad,

Hello, Autumn.

Her eyes widened,

"HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?"

He wrote quickly, 

I'm your father.

She shook her head violently,

"Mom told me that my dad is dead. You're a liar."

He rolled his eyes,

She lied. 

How could he make her believe...

He rolled up his sleeve showing the initial,

Your mom has my initial on her arm too. You've seen the M.

Autumn's eyes widened,

"That doesn't prove that you're my dad. Maybe you're just a weirdo making shit up."

Michael ran a hand through his hair,

Your Aunt Laurie is my sister.

He then produced a childhood photo of the two of them together, the only one taken.

Autumn scowled, though it seemed less defiant this time,

"That could be you with any baby."

Maybe there was hope.

After what felt like forever, but was probably closer to a couple of hours, he'd managed to successfully convince Autumn that he was indeed her father. 

"Why can't we tell mom though?"

Michael smirked,

Oh don't worry, your mom will be here soon enough.

And indeed she was, showing up not three hours later.

"Give. Me. Back. My. Daughter."

Michael laughed,

Don't you mean Our daughter?