Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sunday. You sat up quietly, rubbing your eyes. You didn't have work today, thank god. You still woke up early, though, more out of habit than a desire to. You felt like there was something important today, but you couldn't remember what. It nagged at the back of your mind as you slid out of bed. You didn't have to go in today so there was no point in changing out of your pajamas. You put your feet in a pair of bunny slippers and shuffled into the kitchen to make yourself some coffee. The smell of chocolate hit your face as you entered the room, and you blinked tiredly. You groped for the light, flicking it on in one deft motion.

"GOOD MOOOOOOOOOORNING!" You jumped at the sound of a familiar voice, putting your hands up in front of you in a defensive position as your eyes adjusted to the lights. Your dad was in your kitchen for some reason. You squinted, not sure if you were hallucinating or not. He was a soul-snatching lawyer from Subcon Forest, which was an ocean away. Why was he in your kitchen? He flipped a chocolate pancake onto a plate and set it down in front of the chair you usually sat in. He had brought one of his minions too, who shuffled over and put a mug of hot chocolate next to the plate before spraying a generous helping of whipped cream on top. Your dad sat in one of the other chairs as the little dude sprinkled a few chocolate chips on top. "Sorry for yelling, kiddo, force of habit. You still like pancakes, right?"

"Dad? Why are you..." It hit you all at once. Sunday. Halloween. Your dad texted you months ago that he was going to be spending this important haunted day with you. He had probably been texting you reminders for the past week and you hadn't been checking your phone. You drove the heel of your hand into your forehead. "SHIT, that's today?" The ghostly lawyer chuckled as you shuffled over embarrassedly and pulled out a chair. "Sorry, god bless. I forgot that was today. I didn't even clean, or anything." You rubbed your forehead where you smacked it with one hand, embarrassedly picking up the hot chocolate with your other.

"Relax, kiddo, your room used to be way worse than this." You frowned over your mug of hot chocolate as he smirked, reassured despite yourself. There was no amount of caffeine in the mug, and your drowsiness was starting to set in again.

"I guess. Um. Thanks for breakfast, dad." Snatcher nodded, leaning against the table. The minion looked to you for permission to sit in one of the other chairs, and you nodded. "I haven't seen you around, before. You must be new. Got a name?"

"I've been working with the boss for like... a year now." You flinched at the reminder of how rarely you visited. The office was relatively busy. "No name."

"That's fair. Not a lot of you guys do." Your dad chuckled at your response.

"I call him Tiny. Cuz he's so small." You squinted at the minion.

"He's the same size as all the other ones."

"Yeah. Tiny." You cut into the pancakes with the side of your fork as you tried to remember what all you had planned for today. Luckily you bought the candy a week in advance, so you weren't short of that. The yard's been decorated all month. You were wearing the same costume as last year, and the year before that, and the year before that... Did it still fit you? You were pretty sure it did. You hadn't really gained or lost any weight.

"Sorry for forgetting. Again. It's been busy the past few years." Snatcher waved a hand.

"It's really fine, kiddo."

"How was your trip up?"

"I stowed away on a packing crate, so it was free, which means it was automatically the best trip ever." He chuckled. "Even though the boat sank. But that's no big deal when you're already dead." You blinked.

"That cruise ship? It sank in the arctic circle... Wait, how did you get here from the middle of the ocean?" Snatcher shrugged.

"Details." You and your father had a bit more catchup chatter while you ate: how was Mom? Lonely as always, but otherwise fine. Any new contracts? None particularly interesting. How was office work? Busy as hell. Pretty busy then! That sort of thing. You eventually finished your breakfast, getting to your feet to wash the dishes. "Ah, I can handle that kiddo."

"Nonsense, you're my guest. You've already done enough by cooking breakfast. And like, doing the dishes every day of my childhood." You rolled your eyes as you turned on the sink. Somehow your dad got complete custody over you. You assumed it was because your mom was clearly not fit to raise a child with how she froze everyone that stepped in her general vicinity. He still took you to visit her every now and then, usually on holidays, so you were on good terms. "Originally I was planning on cooking breakfast for you. Then I remembered you didn't eat. Um, would you like some coffee anyway?" Your dad sensed the true purpose of the question and agreed to the offer. It was a habit of his to make you hot chocolate, he probably didn't even think about coffee until you offered. You set the pot to brew and put the dishes aside to dry. "Don't try to cook me lunch, though. Just relax." Snatcher chuckled. You both knew he wasn't going to listen to you.

You set a mug down in front of him, taking a sip from your own as you walked around the table to sit down. Your dad slid the mug subtly over to Tiny, who accepted the gift gratefully. The small minion relished the caffeinated drink, and you felt a bit of pity for him. Poor guy was about to launch head first into an addiction.

You played board and card games with your dad for most of the day, only winning when he let you. He let you pretty often, honestly. Tiny was just vibing at the table, occasionally hopping into a game just for the sake of it or whenever you needed more players. Being the cruel host that you were, you gave the little guy more coffee every time you got up to get your own. Eventually 6 pm rolled around, and you looked up at the clock.

"Ah, I should probably get dressed or whatever. Some parents come out early to keep their kids from wandering around in the dark." You started to put the cards you were holding down, then reconsidered and handed them to Tiny. He struggled to hold them, dropping them on the table before quickly scooping them up again. Snatcher pretended he didn't see the incident as you left the room.

Your costume wasn't terribly complex. You pulled on the dark cloak silently, glancing at the mirror you kept in your room. You looked like a taller version of Tiny, which was the goal. It was an easy costume for you, and people were generally intimidated by it. Your eyes glowed faintly in the darkness cast by the hood, your ghostly origins slowly becoming apparent as the night progressed. You pulled at your lower eyelid and stuck your tongue out at your reflection. After you were satisfied, you went back to the kitchen and grabbed the bag of candy you had prepped off the top of the fridge, ripping it open to pour into a bowl. You looked around your cabinets for a little bit, then your dad cleared his throat quietly and gestured to the pumpkin bowl on the table.

"Oh. Thanks." You had put it there specifically so you wouldn't do what you just did, and then forgot. You carried the bag over and poured it in. "You can take a piece," you said to the subconite holding your cards and desperately attempting to figure out how to play rummy, "but just one, okay?"

"Thank you, boss," he said politely as he took a lollipop. You made a gesture to your dad that indicated the same courtesy was extended to him, and he took a piece despite himself. He didn't need to eat, but all ghosts liked a little candy on Halloween. You sat down to advise Tiny on plays, not taking your cards back in case kids came to the door. After a few minutes, you heard the doorbell ring and stood up, grabbing the candy bowl as you did. Your dad looked up with vested interest.

You opened the door politely to two elementary-aged kids, one dressed as a fairy and one as some video game character. Peek-achoo? You were too old to keep up with this sort of thing. They held up bags with an eager grin, though their arms were shaking slightly. You didn't blame them; you rightfully had a reputation as the scariest house on the block this time of year. "Trick or treat!" You glanced over at the sidewalk. As expected for such small kids, the parents were standing close by.

"Cute costumes, kiddos. Here, pick one each." You crouched with the bowl, holding it out to them. They both picked something with a polite 'thank you' and scurried away. You and your dad couldn't properly start having fun until the older kids started coming around. When you closed the door and turned around, both he and Tiny were watching from the hallway. You shook your head quietly, and they both slunk back into the kitchen.

Around 8 or 9, business started picking up. You opened the spare bag you bought just in case you started to run out, dropping another piece of candy in front of Tiny as you did. The little dude appreciated it. The doorbell rang again, and you skittered away to go answer it. A teenager was escorting a middle school kid around, both in costume. The teen was wearing a black hoodie, and the younger kid was wearing a cloak and a skull mask. The teen was carrying a fake knife covered in painted blood, though with how loosely they held it one could easily assume it belonged to the younger. The middle school kid held up their bag. "Trick or treat!"

"Trick or treat? Do I get to pick? I'm kidding. Here, pick one." You held out the bowl to them, and gestured with your head that the teen was allowed to pick one too. The teen hesitated before taking one with a quiet 'thanks.' They nudged the middle schooler to remind them to say thank you as well, and they both turned to leave. You nodded to your dad and his charge as you closed the door. Older kids would recover faster from nightmares, so you didn't feel as guilty siccing ghosts on them for fun. Showtime. They both vanished into the floor, and you watched from the window. The thorns you were accustomed to appeared along the sidewalk leading up to your house, and as soon as the kids stepped into the ring your dad jumped out, cackling and wearing a horrifying expression as he did. The younger kid jumped slightly and dropped their bag and the teen straight-up screamed, though after they both recovered from the fright they were laughing. Tiny appeared to pick up the bag for the younger kid politely, holding it up to them so they could reach. Your dad jokingly offered them both contracts, they refused with a smile and left. Snatcher waited for a few moments to watch them leave before vanishing back into the earth, waiting for the next victim. You continued standing by the window, peering through the blinds to allow your glowing eyes to serve as decoration until more kids arrived. A slight smile touched your face. There was no greater joy to your kind than causing mischief.

The night ended all too soon. It was around the early hours of the morning that business slowed to a halt, and your dad returned with Tiny. You lowered your hood, holding out your hand for a fist bump. They both obliged, Tiny with a bit more force than he had intended to use. You shook out your hand.

"I prepared the room at the end of the hall just in case he brought one of you little guys. I have to sleep, personally, but you two are free to do what you want." Your body yawned involuntarily, as though emphasizing your point. The glow in your eyes was dimming slowly as dawn approached. Your dad chuckled.

"Sweet dreams, kiddo."

"Mhm." You walked into the bathroom to change, shower, brush your teeth, and all the other good stuff. Today was productive, you concluded. You couldn't stop smiling despite your tiredness. You almost fell asleep in the shower, but managed not to. After drying off and getting dressed, you left the bathroom and stumbled into bed. You laid there for a few minutes, slowly drifting to sleep, when a presence appeared next to you. Your dad stood there silently for a few moments to analyze the room before placing one of the stuffed animals you kept from childhood next to you under the blankets and tucking you in. You couldn't respond properly in your half asleep state, but you hoped your tiredly slurred words and the movement of your arms to hold the stuffed animal conveyed enough of a thank you before he vanished.