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Mark’s balancing at the top of a ladder when Helena arrives home from work. She’s earlier than he expected; he wanted this to be all done before she arrived to surprise her, but instead, she walks up the driveway and stares at him while his hands are tangled in a string of ghost shaped lights.
“Hello,” she says, shading her eyes from the late afternoon sun. “What have you got there?”
She’s dressed in a pair of loose fitting slacks, a long coat layered over top, her hair swept back into a neat ponytail that catches the sunlight just right. He brightens, grinning down at her because even though he’s not quite finished with the decorations, he’s got a good start on them. “Aren’t they great?”
“They’re…something.” Her brows furrow in what he later realizes is confusion, but he’s too excited about his creation to stop himself.
"I saw these when I was at the store today,” he says, gesturing to the ghost shaped lights in his hands, “and I thought they’d be a good addition.”
“A good addition to…what exactly?”
“To our holiday decorations.” It’s been months now but he still takes so much pleasure in casually saying our. “Aren’t they spooky? I think they’re going to look great at night.”
She stares up at him blankly, nowhere near as excited as he expected, although he has tried to keep his expectations realistic. There’s something so nostalgic about fall and Halloween in particular that brings him back to rose-coloured childhood memories and now that things have calmed down with Lumon, doing something as simple as celebrating a holiday together is actually possible.
They’re both moving along the reintegration process and it’s like life has kind of become…normal. He never thought that he’d be grateful for a normal, everyday life. And it’s not like things are boring, because Helena is still an Eagan—basically a celebrity in Kier. And they’re both pretty notable after everything Lumon’s been doing to save face in the wake of the disaster that was the innie rebellion.
But still. He’s pretty much fully reintegrated now, both parts of him settled into place, and he feels almost at peace. There’s still the odd moment when he remembers something that seems like it’s from another life or when an emotion takes control that he can’t quite explain, but overall, he’s been settling into being Mark Scout and Mark S. fairly well.
And somehow along the way, Helena Eagan fell in love with him. It’s still wild when he thinks about it—that encounter in a restaurant, her time on the severed floor with his innie. A string of events that changed his life, and hers.
His memories of Helly and Helena are all there in his mind, some brighter and some blurrier, superimposed over one another, until she's simply the woman in front of him. She doesn’t see it though. Not yet. It's been slower, her reintegration, and he knows that she’s frustrated with it, a lack of progress that she can tangibly feel.
It was a process just to get both Helly and Helena on the same page and now that reintegration is underway, it’s been moving slower than she expected. There haven’t been the flashes or the headaches or the missing time that Mark experienced, which he knows that she’s not exactly sorry about, but there also hasn’t been much of anything at all.
But while she can't identify it herself, he sees the parts of her slipping through. The bright-eyed look when he showed her Jurassic Park for the first time. The quiet hesitation when they attempted to make a birthday cake for Eleanor. It’s a slow bleed of Helly and Helena, the harsh edges overlapping, blending them together until he’s not entirely sure where Helena ends and Helly begins. And maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. It comes and goes, those little glimpses at Helly or Helena specifically, and he loves all those parts.
One thing that is becoming clearer in this exact moment is that neither Helena nor Helly has any clue what Mark is doing or why.
He climbs down the ladder, abandoning the lights in favour of saying hello, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Hi. How was your day?”
She shrugs. “Fine. Just another day of attempting to lead Lumon out of the depths of despair and into the future.”
“You’re doing amazing work.”
“I don’t know about that, but we keep trying,” she says. “But why don’t you tell me what all this is.”
“I’m decorating for Halloween,” he says, gesturing to the inflatable ghost on the lawn, the fake spiderwebs and decorations on the front porch of their little house.
“Oh,” she says with a little shrug. “I didn’t know that there were special decorations.”
“Really?”
“Well I’ve never celebrated Halloween before.”
“Wait, you've never celebrated Halloween?” he asks in disbelief. “Like…ever?”
His intent perusal makes her shift uncomfortably, and he tries to hold back, but his brain can’t quite compute that she’s never done something as simple as celebrate Halloween. He knows that she doesn’t like to talk about her childhood, that she doesn’t like to dredge up painful memories that she’d rather stay buried. But every time he’s reminded that she grew up so sheltered from things that he considered just a normal part of life makes his chest ache.
There’s a haunted look on her face and he opens his mouth to say something, anything, to make it go away, but then she turns around and walks into the house, letting the door slam behind her. It hadn’t been his intention to make her feel bad, but he’s done so all the same.
He chases after her, not sure what exactly just happened, but certain that he needs to fix it. “Hey, hang on a second.”
She ignores him, opening and closing cabinets in the kitchen at random, as though she’s going to cook. As though she knows how to cook anything beyond the three meals she’s taught herself in the last few months, when she got frustrated that she was relying on Mark for everything.
“Hey,” he says, closer this time, and softer too, that gentle voice that he only uses with her. “Will you just stop?”
She blows out a frustrated breath but lets her hand fall to the countertop. “What?”
“Will you look at me please?” he asks, and she reluctantly turns around.
Her eyes meet his and he can see the emotions clamoring inside of her, a tumult of feelings that she’s still not used to experiencing. But she crosses her arms over her chest and frowns at him for good measure.
“Thank you. Now, I’m sorry if I made you feel some kind of way. I didn’t mean to. I was just surprised.”
She shrugs. “Growing up as an Eagan left no time for fripperies, and a holiday where children dress up in silly costumes and run around collecting candy from neighbours was certainly on that list. And Helly’s never really seen the outside of Lumon so it’s not like there was really a chance to partake.”
He hums, eyes softening. “That makes sense; I just didn’t even think. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not a big deal. I didn’t even know what Halloween really entailed until I was far too old to be asking questions about it. I was already the weird Eagan kid, and making it clear that I had no real idea what something as simple as Halloween was would have only drawn more attention to the fact that I wasn’t normal.”
He doesn’t say anything because it’s so rare that she ever speaks this much about her childhood, and instead breathes deeply, trying to push down the instinctive protective feelings that hearing this dredges up. She didn’t have a normal childhood. The books she read were strictly controlled. There weren’t any TV shows or movies. She spent most of her time with nannies or tutors who surely knew what media was and was not appropriate for a child of Kier to be exposed to. And he just wants to wrap her up in his arms.
“By the time I was sent out into the world, I wasn’t even aware of what I didn’t know,” she continues. “It was overwhelming sometimes because my classmates didn’t seem to be as isolated as I was.” She swallows thickly. “That was part of being an Eagan.”
He knows less about the Eagans than he does about Lumon, but he knows enough. He can hear the way her voice wobbles slightly, the way her eyes get unfocused as she’s dragged back into the past.
She swipes angrily at her cheeks, refocusing back on him. “So yeah. Halloween isn’t a thing that I’ve ever really done.”
“Do you want to?” he asks gently. “I don’t want to make you feel bad or anything, but I just…I want to share these things with you. The good things, the things that make life fun, like silly holidays. They’re more enjoyable when you share them with someone you love.”
She hums, tilting her head playfully. “Oh? Who might that someone be?”
He draws closer at the change in her tone, a teasing look on his face. “Well I’ve got this girlfriend, you see. She’s pretty great, although sometimes she can be a bit annoying. You’d probably like her—”
And then his lips are on hers or her are on his, he’s not even sure, but kissing her is like breathing, easy and right, and it settles the butterflies in his stomach, the worry that one day he’s going to push too far and she’s going to disappear completely.
When they break apart she keeps him close, laying a hand on his cheek as she stares up at him. The warmth of her palm bleeds into him and he feels that weightless feeling, like they’ve been here a thousand times before in a thousand different lives, eyes locked on each other, breathing the same air.
“I love you.”
“Love you back,” he says.
She plucks a small stick out of his hair, holding it up for him to see. “You were certainly busy today.”
He chuckles. “The work is mysterious and spooky. Plus I’m a kept man. I have to earn my keep.”
“Not for long,” she replies. “Something is going to come your way soon.”
He doesn’t reply but she knows that he’s been struggling with being unemployed and the lack of job prospects for a former alcoholic college professor who was then part of the severed workers rebellion.
“Well,” he says. “In the meantime, you’d better get ready to celebrate your first Halloween.”
“Is that right?”
“Yep. Because I’ve got nothing but time and you absolutely need to understand what makes it one of the best holidays in the world.”
She doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he grins at her convincingly enough that she nods in agreement. “All right,” she agrees. “So what’s first?”
***
He’s got a whole mental list of things that they need to do to celebrate her first Halloween: pumpkins, costumes, scary movies, and of course handing out candy on the actual day.
Helena claims that she doesn't see what all the fuss is about a silly holiday for children, but he sees her eyes light up when they pass a decorated house or a child dressed in costume. He thinks that her reaction is both Helly and Helena, neither able to do things that truly made them happy. One part of her covers up any crack in the facade that might give away just how much she wants, and the other part is hesitant but curious, unafraid to experience all that she’s missed out on.
He’s determined to make this a holiday season that she’s going to enjoy, one that they can experience together. Sure, it’s fun and silly, but that’s the beauty of it. Just doing silly things because you can, which he knows is not something that either Helena or Helly are really familiar with.
So he starts things off simple, making a trip to a farm stand and then stopping at the craft store on his way back home. He sets it all up while she’s at work, laying out the supplies and then finding a playlist to set the mood.
“What’s all this?” Helena says as she steps into the kitchen.
Mark glances up. He hadn’t even heard the front door open, he was so focused on setting everything up. It’s not quite perfect, but it’s going to have to do.
“I got us pumpkins,” he explains, patting the one closest to him.
“Yes, I see that.” She looks slightly confused. “Why are they on the kitchen table?”
“Well, decorating pumpkins is a thing that lots of people do for Halloween. Usually they carve them, like with faces or something. But I’ve, uh, noticed that sometimes you like to draw, and so I thought you might like to paint pumpkins instead of carve them.”
He’s careful not to mention Helly specifically because Helena sometimes acts like it’s Helly’s fault that things are moving more slowly for her than she’d expected. But he can see the excitement alight on her face as she takes in all the supplies littered all over the table.
“We’re going to…paint pumpkins?” she asks, with a confused furrow in her brow that’s all Helena.
He nods. “Yeah. People do it all the time nowadays. It’s not quite as messy and there’s no need to get out any carving tools.”
“Still don’t trust me with sharp objects?” she teases.
He rolls his eyes. “Oh stop. So, what do you think?”
“It sounds like fun,” she decides, and while she’s not exactly overtly excited, he can see the bright look in her eyes as her fingers run over the array of brushes he’s laid out. “What do we paint on them?”
“Whatever you like. Sometimes people make them into animals or characters or other spooky Halloween things. It can be anything really, the sky’s the limit.”
That doesn’t seem to help, as she settles into a chair, lips pursed in thought. “I don’t know anything about Halloween though,” she says. “I’m going to do it wrong.”
“There’s no wrong answer. It doesn't even have to be Halloween themed, it’s just for fun,” he replies. “Anything you create is going to be exactly right. Just let your creativity take over.”
She doesn’t look wholly convinced, but he gets some music going and pours her a glass of wine as she stares contemplatively at her pumpkin. He settles at the opposite end of the kitchen table, so they can’t see each other's creations.
He doesn’t really have a plan for his own pumpkin, so he goes for a traditional jack o'lantern face. He’s never been described as artistic, but he gives it his best effort, starting with slathering orange paint over the whole thing.
He can’t do more with it until the base layer dies somewhat, and so he looks over to the end of the table to check in on Helena. Her gaze is narrowed in on her pumpkin, splashes of neutral colours partially encompassing it, in what looks, he thinks, vaguely like mountains. She’s got a paintbrush clamped between her teeth and another in her hand and a deep furrow of concentration between her brows.
“How’s it coming along over there?” he asks.
Her eyes meet his and she spits out her paintbrush. “Don’t look yet! It’s not done!”
“It’s not a competition,” he replies, laughing. “Why can't I look?”
“I don’t want you to see it until it’s done.”
“Well, will you tell me your idea at least?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. Mind your own business.”
He laughs again before turning his focus back to his own pumpkin. It only takes another few moments for him to finish once the orange paint is dry enough. It’s basic, but he thinks it looks pretty good. If nothing else, Eleanor will appreciate it. Devon is going to bring her over to trick or treat on Halloween, and he’s pretty sure she’ll think it’s great.
“Okay.” Her voice brings him out of his thoughts and she beckons him over to her end of the table. “You can look now.”
“Wow,” he says, leaning in to take a closer look. “It’s certainly unique.”
“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” She covers her face with her hands and groans.
He gently grabs her wrists and pulls her hands down. There’s a few smudges of paint from her hands left dusting her cheeks and he rubs one away with his thumb. “It’s not stupid,” he says. “Not one bit. Will you tell me about it?”
She swallows and then bites her lip. “Well I just…I don’t know that much about Halloween and I didn’t want to mess anything up, so I thought I’d do this you know, neutral kind of thing. Then it could go with any colour scheme and wouldn’t clash.”
He sees the turquoise blue base, the taupe and cream and dusty rose colours that she’s used, the mountains that she’s painted like an almost abstract horizon. It screams Helena, in a way he can’t quite explain.
“And then once I did that I just…can’t explain it, but it was too plain and not Halloweeny at all and I hated it and so I added the rest.”
What she calls ‘the rest’ is actually a work of art, in his opinion. She’s painted adorable little ghosts over top of the neutral background. They’ve all got detailed faces and rosy pink cheeks and somehow their eyes sparkle with mischief in a way that reminds him exactly of the woman who painted them. She’s added little moons and stars around them and each brushstroke is careful and deliberate, the hand of someone experienced with the artform.
She’s somehow captured the spirit of Halloween within each of their charming faces, and that combined with the background suited for any sort of decor is the exact perfect blend of Helena and Helly, both of them leaving their mark on the pumpkin in a way that he absolutely treasures.
“It’s perfect,” he says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
She leans into his side, still staring at her pumpkin. “I don’t know. It looks a little chaotic.”
“I can’t quite explain it, but it looks like you. Like both of you,” he replies softly.
“Are you calling me chaotic?” she teases. He chuckles, and she stiffens for a moment before tipping her chin up to look at him. “Do you really think so?”
He nods. “Yeah. I know you don’t always feel it, but you’re both in there. And things might be moving slower than you think, but it is happening. The reintegration.”
She hums, not quite in acceptance, but she doesn’t argue this time at least, which he counts as a win. Maybe she recognizes the artwork as something that’s not quite Helena and not quite Helly. Something that’s both of them, together.
“So what did you make on yours?” she asks after a moment, shifting away from him to walk to his end of the table. “Oh.”
“Oh, what?”
“Nothing,” she says, pressing her lips together. Her eyes sparkle with a mischief not unlike the ghosts painted on her pumpkin. “It’s wonderful.”
“You don’t even know what you’re talking about,” he teases. “This is a classic look.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“Your eyes are saying it.”
“It’s wonderful," she repeats. “It looks just like I think it should look. I like that you painted the orange pumpkin orange again. That was very clever. And your use of triangles for the eyes is very effective.” She’s trying to be serious, but her lips keep twitching.
“Look, art isn’t my strong suit, but I think Eleanor will enjoy it. She’ll probably like yours more.”
She brightens, which is all Helly. Helena is cautiously curious about his niece, but Helly loves Eleanor. “I forgot she would get to see them. Did Devon decide on a costume for her yet?”
“Yeah, but she said it’s going to be a surprise.” He starts gathering their supplies to clean everything up. “Which reminds me. We need to get costumes too.”
“We do? Why?”
“Adults often dress up on Halloween night to hand out candy,” he explains as he carries their brushes to rinse in the sink. “So if we’re going to do all of the typical Halloween things, we have to get costumes too.”
“Okay,” she agrees, collecting up the leftover paint. “If you say so.”
He nods. “I do.”
When he’s done with the brushes he places both of their pumpkins outside on the stoop, certain that Eleanor is going to love both of them.
***
He can tell that she’s warming up to the holiday—not that she was ever really opposed, but he’s noticed that she’s cautious with new things sometimes. It comes and goes because sometimes Helly’s ”take charge and jump right in” attitude takes over, but for the most part Helena is a bit more reserved.
This weekend, he tells her that they’re going costume shopping and she kind of freezes up.
“Okay,” she says slowly. "Well it can’t be that complicated.”
But when they walk into the store, one of those pop up Halloween shops that take over an empty storefront, Helena’s eyes are wide with a wonder he knows belongs to Helly as she looks around. “Whoa. This is…a lot.”
He chuckles lightly. “All right, so, what are you thinking that you want to be?” Mark asks as they enter the costume store.
“I…don’t know,” she says slowly, turning in a little circle. “I think I’m going to go look around?”
She looks a bit overwhelmed, but there’s an excited glint in her eyes, a bounce in her step as she disappears down one of the aisles.
He grins. He figured she’d get a kick out of it. He follows after her as she wanders through the racks, her fingers trailing over all the brightly coloured costumes. Her eyes are wide as she takes it all in, her expression calculating as she considers her options.
Helly’s got no frame of reference when it comes to pop culture or the like, just like his own innie would’ve been clueless. She skips right over things that he thought would have interested her, and when he thinks harder about it, Helena probably also doesn’t have much experience with pop culture either, thanks to what he’s learned about her childhood.
He eventually lets her roam around on her own, exploring the racks as he takes a look for his own costume. It would be perfect if they could find some kind of matching outfit, but he feels like bringing Helena here and asking her to choose a costume might be pressure enough, without forcing her into something to match him.
Sure enough, she comes to find him, her hands empty.
“Didn’t find anything?”
She shakes her head, throwing her arms out to the side in exasperation. “How are you supposed to pick? There’s so many choices!”
He considers her question because he can tell that she’s seriously asking.
“Well, sometimes there’s a character from a book or a TV show or movie that you really enjoy, and so you dress up like them," he explains. "Sometimes people dress up as animals or generic ideas, like a witch or a ghost. Groups of friends or couples will sometimes do a themed costume together.”
Helena’s eyes brighten. “We’re a couple.”
“We are.”
“So could we do a costume together?”
He nods. “Absolutely we could.”
She grins and his heart flip flops at the excited look on her face. They start walking down the aisle together and he grabs her hands and swings it playfully between them.
“Now we just need to find something that matches,” he says.
They aren’t walking for long when she beelines for something bright red on the end of the rack. Her fingers stroke the fabric, a little smile on her face.
“What’s that?”
“I have no idea actually. There was just something about it that called to me.” She pulls it off the rack and holds it up in front of herself, blocking her face. “What is it?”
“I think it’s a lion tamer,” he says, peering at the label. “I guess that makes me a lion.”
She lowers the costume and grins at him over the top of it. “I feel like that sounds just about right.”
They find a lion costume in his size nearby, which he's sure is going to look stupid on him. But Helena grins gleefully about it and so he carries it up to the register without complaint.
***
It wasn’t on his original list, but he sees a sign one day when he’s driving around town and just knows that he has to take Helena as part of their Halloween celebrations. The haunted house is advertised as spooky fun for the whole family, which Mark figures is just the right amount of scary for someone who’s never experienced any of the typical jumpscares and horror of the holiday. Helena peppers him with questions the entire way there, a combination of Helly’s curiosity and Helena’s apprehension.
She’s dressed in a burnt orange sweater that has no right to look as good on her as it does, her hair falling in gentle waves around her shoulders. He knows a little more now, about her childhood, her family, although he’s certain that she keeps the worst of it from him, whether in embarrassment or some kind of shame, he’s not sure. He wishes she felt comfortable enough to share it all, but it has technically only been a short time since they’ve been together like this, although it sometimes feels like he’s known her his entire life. It’s a confusing paradox, a fluke in the passage of time, Helly and Helena together in his brain, overlaying the timeline of his childhood, adolescence, always somehow there.
The parking lot is so full that he has to loop around twice before he finds a place to park. There are crowds of people of all ages, and Helena walks close to him as they make their way to the entrance, their shoulders bumping.
“What do you think?” he asks, once they’ve gotten their tickets and are waiting in the queue for their turn to enter.
She shrugs and he can’t quite read the expression on her face. “It’s…unusual,” she says, and while her voice doesn’t sound impressed, he watches her look around and take everything in.
She might not be able to see it in herself, and it’s not always there, but there’s a curiosity within her, a drive to see and experience the world, from someone who’s never had the opportunity to explore beyond the pristine white hallways of Lumon. Helly deserves this, he thinks. But so does Helena. Two sides of the same coin, both of them so sheltered, denied what they truly wanted for themselves but in incredibly different ways.
“Don’t worry,” he says, taking her hand and puffing up his chest dramatically. “I’ll protect you.”
She laughs. “Oh you will, will you?” she teases. There’s a flush on her cheeks from the cool night air and a sparkle in her eyes as they banter, and he’s so incredibly happy that they are somehow, miraculously, here together. All of them.
He nods, crowding in closer until their noses bump and he can feel her breath on his skin. Her hands find his waist, holding on tight. “You bet. I’m your man.”
She rises up on her toes to press her lips to his. “My gallant knight.”
The line moves quickly, and soon enough it’s their turn. When they step inside, everything is immediately muffled. The sounds of laughter and conversation, nature, gone. His stomach flips as he looks around, immediately on edge. The room is creepy, styled to look like it's from the 50s, but he doesn’t see anything immediately threatening.
He glances over to check in with Helena, to make sure she’s doing okay so far. She's looking around too, taking it all in, but if he’s not mistaken she looks kind of…unimpressed.
Which can’t be happening. She's doing this for the first time. This might be fun for the whole family, but it’s still supposed to be a little scary. And it's not that he wants her to be scared but that is kind of the whole point. He wants to have the whole Halloween experience and to do that she needs to buy in.
But before he can even move forward with that thought, someone dressed in bloody pyjamas bursts screaming into the room.
Mark involuntarily lets out a scream as he scrambles backwards. The person looms in their faces for a moment, making threatening noises. Mark stumbles until his back hits the wall, before the person moves on and leaves them alone.
His heart pounds against his ribcage, but he grits his teeth before turning to Helena, who’s standing quite still, her arms at her sides. “Fun right?”
She looks unconvinced but nods. “Yeah.”
“Shall we keep going?” he asks, trying to take calming breaths while keeping watch out of the corner of his eye for the next jumpscare headed their way.
“I think we have to,” she says.
He can't tell if she’s nervous but he slips his hand into hers anyways. Hopefully she doesn't notice how clammy his own hands are.
They move through room after room, and his heart continues to race, his flight or fight instinct activated, and every time he jumps he glances over to find Helena looking around with interest or curiosity, but never fear. Like she’s taking in some kind of science experiment, something she’s vaguely interested but not wholly invested in.
He wants to try and explain it to her or maybe build it up so she too leaps into the air in fright when a fake severed head explodes out of a hidden compartment right next to them or a person dressed as a doctor covered in blood looms over them with a bloody axe, but there’s no time for that when his brain is overtaken by fear.
He doesn’t even think, as the whirr of a chainsaw looms closer and closer, taking over all of his senses. His mind just screams DANGER and he runs, shoving everything out of his path, desperate to get to safety.
It’s not until he’s back in the fresh air, chest heaving as he takes in great gulps of cool fresh air, does he realize that he’s alone.
Oh fuck.
Oh shit. He didn’t… Did he?
“Thanks for that,” Helena says from behind him, and he turns to find her approaching him, a look he can’t quite read on her face.
“Oh my god,” he says. “Did I—”
“Run away screaming at a pitch I have never heard come from your mouth before from the clown with the clearly fake chainsaw?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “Yes.”
“Helena–”
“And,” she says, interrupting him, “shove me, the person you supposedly care about, directly at the clown with the clearly fake chainsaw as some kind of sacrifice?” She pauses for emphasis. “Also yes.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I just…reacted.”
Her face is so serious and he can’t tell if she’s upset or pissed off or what. “Clearly,” she says dryly. “Well, good to know that if we’re ever attacked by a chainsaw wielding clown that I’ll be the one saving our lives.”
“You’re just so strong and tough,” he replies, but he can see the hint of a smile breaking through her expression. “I knew you could handle it.”
She hums, brows raised. “More like you couldn’t handle it at all, you big baby. I thought you were going to be my gallant knight?”
It’s a little embarrassing to have his words tossed back in his face and his face flushes, but he also can’t believe that she wasn’t scared at all.
“I think it’s more concerning that you weren’t scared of someone chasing you with a chainsaw,” he tosses back.
“Mark,” she says slowly. “It’s not real, you know, right?”
“I know,” he replies, defensive. “I wasn’t actually scared. I was just trying to make it more believable for you.”
She chuckles. “Oh, is that what that big performance was? Just for my benefit?”
“Absolutely.”
She tilts her head sideways, studying him for a moment, a tiny smile playing around her mouth. She’s still so goddamn beautiful and he cannot believe that she chose him. That he gets to be with her, with all of her. That somehow all the parts of them fit together like puzzle pieces and he’s the lucky one who gets to be by her side as she experiences things for the first time.
“You know, I don’t think I believe you,” she says. “Why did you bring me here if you’re so scared of all of this?” She steps closer, her eyes shining in the dusk, and his galloping heart picks up again as he laces his fingers through hers.
“I don’t know,” he says. “It’s just…things have been so insane for the past year, and now that we’re finally finding this new normal, I want you to experience things, good things. You know, outside of all the Lumon bullshit and everything.”
“That’s very sweet.”
“Devon and I loved Halloween as kids, and I wanted you to experience Halloween for the first time the right way.”
Her lips twitch, like she wants to smile and her eyes soften. “And the right way is watching your boyfriend be scared shitless and run away from a haunted house filled with people dressed in costumes?”
He shrugs. When she puts it that way, it feels even sillier. “Well I thought you’d be the one scared shitless, to be honest.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” she says.
“I’m not disappointed.” He draws her closer, her sweater soft under his fingers. “But who knew you were made of steel?”
He means it as a joke, but she doesn’t laugh, the lightness in her expression suddenly gone, her mind drifting.
“I’ve seen far scarier things than a pretend haunted house,” she says. “I practically grew up in a haunted house.”
She keeps her voice light, and this is Helena through and through right now, no trace of the wonder and curiosity that he’d seen when they arrived.
“Well you’re definitely made of stronger stuff than I am,” he agrees, and although the sentiment is sweet, the meaning laced under the words just reminds him that she’s experienced so much hardship and trauma thanks to the Eagan family and the cult of Kier. It only makes him more determined to show her the good things that life can offer, to experience them together.
***
Halloween is gloomy and cool and Mark waits in anticipation all day for Helena to come home from work. They share a quick meal together before heading upstairs to get dressed in their costumes so they can hand out candy to trick or treaters.
When Helena emerges in her lion tamer costume, Mark’s throat goes dry and his palms get clammy, all the blood in his body rushing south. The top is fitted, like some kind of corset, and the black shiny pants fit to her legs, leaving nothing to the imagination. She stands at the dresser and fixes her hair and his eyes skim down her body, working if they have time to use the dresser in a different way.
He makes a strangled kind of noise which has her turning to look at him quizzically. “Are you all right over there?” she asks.
“Yeah, fine,” he says, but she smirks at him like she can tell exactly where his mind has gone.
“Aren’t you going to get dressed too?” She turns back to the mirror to touch up her makeup, and he watches the way she expertly swipes blush across her cheeks, a splash of colour on her lips. “Devon’s going to be here any moment.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” He drags his eyes away to dig out his own costume.
“Awwwww,” Helena coos when he reappears. “You look adorable.”
Adorable’s not really what he’s going for when she looks sexy as hell, but she seems so pleased with their matching costumes that he can’t really complain. She runs her fingers across the furry mane attached to his head, her eyes bright.
“You like it?” he asks.
Before she can reply, there’s a knock on the front door.
“That’ll be Devon and Ricken,” he says. “You ready?”
She nods. “As I’ll ever be.” Then she grabs a whip, flicks it in his direction, and gestures with her head. “Better go answer the door.”
“Yes ma’am.” He mock salutes before heading out of the room and to the front door, feeling her trailing behind him.
Eleanor grins toothily up at them from the front stoop, dressed up like a tiny dinosaur. Helena loves it, just as she'd loved Jurassic Park and crouches down to talk to his niece.
"Nice costume," Devon says with a grin.
He rolls his eyes. "Shut up."
"I think you look quite majestic, Mark," Ricken adds. "The kind of the jungle, although that statement is not entirely accurate as lions don't live in the jungle."
Eleanor refuses to come inside at first, petting their pumpkins and babbling nonsense. Eleanor especially loves Helena’s pumpkin, just as he suspected she would, pointing excitedly at it.
His sister and her family come inside for a quick visit, and as they sit around sharing drinks and chatting, it reminds him of when he was young and his mom would take him and Devon to visit their grandparents before heading out trick or treating. The time with family is special, especially since things are still so new and a little uncertain. Devon’s come around on Helena with time and effort on both of their parts, but it’s still not entirely natural.
Helena dumps a handful of candy into Eleanor’s bucket as they leave to do some trick or treating, and Eleanor waves happily, grinning toothily over Ricken’s shoulder as they make their way down the driveway.
“Bye bye! Bye bye!” Eleanor calls out until Ricken straps her into her carseat and they drive away.
Mark and Helena park themselves on the front stoop with a bowl of candy as the sun sets in the distance. There’s not a lot of children in their neighbourhood but there's enough trick or treaters that they're kept busy for a couple hours. Helena oohs and ahhs over each costume, the excitement in her voice so innocent and almost childlike. She chats with some of the children about their costumes, and when a small girl comes dressed in a similar costume to Helena, she practically beams.
Once the children trickle off they pack things up and head inside to watch a movie.
“Well, what do you think so far?” Mark asks as they settle onto the couch. “Was it what you expected?”
Helena snuggles into his side, laying her head on his shoulder. He loves the weight of her against his side—it’s reassuring, because at first Helena was not the snuggling type. But she’s softened over the time they’ve been together, the walls she built around herself gradually coming down brick by brick, both by his own hands and hers.
“It’s been fun,” she replies softly. “I had no idea it was going to be so busy.”
“Are you glad we did it? Your first Halloween.”
“Our first Halloween,” she corrects, before pausing for a moment. “Maybe next year we can dress up as something different?”
His heart leaps at her words, at the idea of her thinking of next year, of them together for their second of hopefully many holidays together.
“Absolutely,” he says, pressing a kiss to her head. “You’ve got a whole year to come up with an idea.”
He starts the movie, a scary one that he’s seen a few times before, and predictably Helena doesn’t jump at any of the scary parts, scoffing at what she deems an illogical story. He strokes his fingers up and down her bare arm, paying less and less attention to the movie and more attention to the warmth of her skin and the press of her body against his.
It’s cozy and comfortable and he feels so lucky to be here with her. He thinks of Helena and her unfazed attitude at the haunted house and Helly, curious as always, excitedly bouncing though the costume store, overwhelmed and unable to decide what they should dress up as. It’s clearer and clearer to him every day that it’s both of them, Helly and Helena becoming one person, settling into place into the woman he loves. Layered together until she's just Helena, curled into his side, the weight of her head heavy against him as the room fills with the sound of someone being violently murdered on the TV.