Work Text:
It wasn’t that Erik was unfamiliar with the concept of Halloween, it was just that he preferred to stay out of it. As a child growing up in France it hadn’t really been a thing, and when he was older and lived in other places he had never passed out candy to trick-or-treaters, preferring instead to simply darken all the lights, watch a spooky movie, and ignore the sound of the doorbell. When he had lived at the Garnier, there had been events for the residents, but he had always sat those out, not wanting to socialize. Steve had come by with candy that was “playfully” thrown at him from the doorway, and Erik generally flushed it down the toilet as a means of protest—except for the year he’d melted the mini candy bars down into a liquid and poured them into the gas tank of Steve’s car in the Garnier parking lot.
But Erik was no longer at the Garnier—he had been living with Christine for months now in a nice apartment they had chosen together. Her generous new salary from her position at the opera house had made this luxurious and wheelchair accessible little place a possibility.
It was their first October together, and thus their first Halloween as well. Christine had told him ahead of time that she was going to be helping at the Halloween trick-or-treat event for children at the opera house. He had wanted to go with her—until he saw how late the event ran.
“That’s probably for the best,” she had said. “After all, who will hand out candy here if we’re both gone?”
Erik had said nothing at the time, wondering who was going to be handing out candy if Christine wasn't there, because it certainly wasn’t him.
He put the mild disturbance from his mind and soon forgot all about it. Handing out candy to children was not something he had ever done and therefore when he found the big bag of mini candy bars hidden away in the coat closet by the front door, he thought nothing of it other than it must have been Christine’s secret stash. She was always going on about you’ll break your dentures if you try to chew that, Erik and other such slanderous lies, she was probably trying out of some misguided yet pure impulse to keep him from the apparent—yet false—danger of Crunch bars and Butterfingers and the ever so aptly named Mr Goodbar.
But it truly was such an enormous bag, sitting here in this plastic bowl decorated with witch hats and black cats and eerily grinning pumpkins. Surely his love would not miss a few bars here and there?
That was what he told himself every time he snuck off to pilfer just one or two or three or four more, and in theory he was perfectly correct. It was just that as he pulled the last bar from the bag and hastily unwrapped it before putting it in his mouth, he had the sinking feeling that she was definitely going to notice that one hundred and forty four bars of candy had definitely gone missing.
He wheeled himself pensively back into the living room, the cheap, waxy chocolate with crisped rice melting on his tongue, finding it hard to regret what he had done. He could buy her more chocolate, after all. Why, Halloween was tonight, which meant soon the chocolate would not only be plentiful in stores, but also very inexpensive! She would surely forgive him.
Christine appeared at that moment, dressed in her fluffy, flowing white dress with little golden wings attached to the back of her. She was going to the event as an angel, and Erik had protested this lightheartedly when he first heard, saying that she was already an angel every day.
“Ok,” she said, grabbing her purse and stuffing her halo headband into it. “I’m gonna go. I’ll text you when I get there.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, cupping the side of his unmasked face with her hand. “Be good, okay? I left a bag of candy in the closet for you to hand out to the kids.”
He swallowed down the remnants of the chocolate, his hand encircling her wrist as she touched his face, the gesture tender and pleading even as his mind began to grow worried.
“What?”
“For the trick-or-treaters,” she reminded him. “When the kids come to the door, you give them a couple pieces of candy, right?”
She gave him a searching look, hoping he had remembered what they’d talked about weeks before.
“Oh. Right. Of course.”
“Tha candy is in the closet, do you want me to get it out for you?”
“No! No, that’s fine, I am perfectly capable of getting it myself.”
“I know.” She smiled. “I’ll let you know when I’m leaving. I’m sorry it’s so late. I’ll try to get back as soon as I can though. And tomorrow we can spend all day in our jammies watching spooky movies and eating snacks and cuddling on the couch, okay?”
“Okay.” He reluctantly let go of her hand, his fingers trailing over it as it slipped from his grasp. The diamond ring on her finger twinkled and once more, like it always did when he thought about it for more than a mere second, it almost brought a tear to his eye. How he loved her—and how she loved him.
He saw her off to the door, parting with sweet words, locking it behind her. Then he waited until he was certain she was out of earshot before he swore loudly.
He had eaten all of the candy he was supposed to hand out, and there was no way to get any more in time. He glanced at the clock on the wall. In an hour or two those little bastards would be coming by and demanding sweets for free and there were now no sweets to be found.
Or was there?
He made his way to the kitchen, searching through every cabinet and cupboard and closet and drawer, trying to find something that would appease the horde that was surely on its way to his very doorstep to threaten him with mischief if nothing satisfactory was found. And if the apartment got egged or some other such nonsense, how would he explain that to Christine?
My dear, I ate all of the chocolates you had set aside for them, so I had nothing to give out, so our house was ransacked. Oh well. Yes, I did. Yes, all one hundred and forty four of them. No, my dentures are fine, I’ll have you know.
It would never do.
At last he spied the singular food that would save them and the fine decorative trim of their little home. And just in time—the doorbell rang.
He wheeled his chair over to the door, proudly holding onto the treats he was going to surrender to the little brat on the other side.
He opened the door to find a small mummy, poorly wrapped and eager for candy. The child stared at him, uncertain.
Erik dropped a mini box of raisins into the child’s pumpkin bucket and smiled.
“Happy Halloween,” Erik said after a second, hoping these were the words that would make the child leave. The foolish mummy hadn’t even said “trick or treat”. The nerve and audacity of children today, he mused to himself.
The child still stood, frozen to the spot.
“You may go now,” Erik said, raising a brow. “Go.”
The mummy turned and haltingly walked away. Erik closed the door, wondering what that was all about. It wasn’t until he happened to glance in the mirror that Christine had hung by the door to check how she looked before leaving that he realized he wasn’t wearing his mask.
“Son of a—“
He found his mask in the bedroom and put it on with a sigh.
The next few children accepted their treat with only vague looks of disappointment, but Erik couldn’t fathom why. They should feel lucky to be getting raisins, just like he felt lucky to be able to pass them out—Christine had bought a rather large quantity of them when they had gone on sale, knowing that Erik enjoyed them.
A slightly older child dressed as a werewolf actually picked the box of raisins out of his bucket and looked at them with disdain.
“These aren’t even chocolate covered,” the werewolf grumbled. “That’s not a treat.”
Erik sat up as straight as he could.
“They are full of potassium,” he told the boy. “Potassium is a treat for your body. Get out.”
The boy scoffed and shook his head as he left.
Erik found the next group of three little girls dressed as princesses just as insolent.
“What are you supposed to be?” One of them asked innocently, looking at his mask curiously.
“What are you supposed to be?” Erik swiftly countered. “A mannerless brat?”
The girl burst into the tears and ran off, quickly followed by her friends.
Erik harumphed and narrowed his eyes at the receding gaggle of sobbing princesses, unable to close the door due to the next group of children approaching.
“Raisins!” A child dismayed upon seeing the treat dropped into their bag. “I don’t want raisins!”
“Aw man, raisins suck,” another child lamented.
“Don’t you have anything else?” Another kid asked.
“You should be grateful for raisins,” Erik snapped. “They’re dried by the sun.”
“Dude what?”
“Take your raisins and get out.” Erik pointed an accusing finger off the distance.
“We didn't walk all this way for raisins!”
Erik ripped his mask off.
“Get out before I steal your noses to replace mine!”
The children screamed in horror and ran off, scattering into the night.
Erik grinned smugly, reaffixing his mask.
“That’ll teach them to rag on raisins,” he muttered to himself.
He opened a little box and ate a few of them, wishing they were chocolates instead. His phone buzzed and he pulled it from his pocket to look at the text—it was Christine saying she was leaving early and on her way home. He smiled fondly. He wanted nothing more than for this night of horror to be over so he could see her again and hold her—and for children to stop ringing the doorbell!
A few more groups of children came and went without much fuss and soon it was late enough that Erik was considering simply not answering the door anymore. Chrstine would be back any minute, and he wanted this night to be over. Besides, he was nearly out of raisins, and there was simply no way he was going to resort to giving out those nice foil wrapped chocolates in the back of the pantry. Those were for him and Christine to have while watching movies!
One last child rang the bell. Or at least, Erik had been expecting a child. This person looked to be closer to a teenager than a child. Erik gave him a box of raisins suspiciously.
“Aren’t you a little old to be trick or treating?” Erik accused.
“Aren’t raisins a little sucky to give out for candy?” The boy retorted.
“Raisins are not sucky!” Erik bristled. “They are full of potassium—“
He was cut off when the boy threw the box back at Erik.
“Raisins suck!”
“You suck!” Erik took the little box, opened it, and began to pelt the boy with raisins.
The boy yelped and tried to defend himself from the sudden onslaught of dried grapes by throwing his candy at Erik.
“Get off of my property!” Erik shouted at him, removing his mask in an attempt to frighten him but the boy only scowled and threw the raisins he’d picked up off the ground back at Erik.
“What the hell is going on here?” A voice cut through the insults being hurled as viciously as raisins and bonbons.
The boy ran off, leaving Erik alone to face his beloved angel as she stared with dismay at the scene before her.
“Why were you throwing shit at each other?” She asked, gingerly stepping around the candy and fruit strewn on the ground. “Are you okay?”
“Ah! Christine, you are back,” he said innocently. “I am fine, thank you.”
“What was that kid’s problem?”
“Ah, yes, that… He was very ungrateful to receive that gift of delicious, nutritious raisins and we had a disagreement.”
“Raisins?” Christine wrinkled her nose. “Why were you giving out raisins? No one wants raisins. What happened to all the candy I bought?”
Erik steepled his fingers, looking deep in innocent thought.
“I really haven't a clue,” he told her.
She sighed deeply.
“Erik, you really shouldn’t fight with kids. It’s not right.”
“It was barely a fight, Christine,” he tutted. “Why, I didn’t even put any raisins in my nose and blow them out at him.”
She ran a hand through her curled and glittered hair, frowning hard.
“The doctor said you aren’t supposed to do that anymore,” she told him.
“Precisely why I did not!” He exclaimed, raising a finger. “And look here, my dear—“ he picked up a stray candy that had gotten caught in his wheelchair. “Perhaps I can interest you in a Three Musketeers bar? It is fun sized!”
She put her hands on her hips, considering.
“Yeah, okay,” she said, coming into the apartment with him, leaving the mess on the porch to deal with later. “Do you wanna watch a movie tonight?”
“I would be delighted, my angel.”
Neither of them brought up what happened to the mini candy bars or to the kid Erik had been fighting with. Instead they sat on the couch together and talked about her night at the opera house, cuddling under a blanket as they ate snacks. She knew he’d likely fall asleep before the movie was over, but she didn’t mind. She loved being there with him, loved him, even if he did get in fights with children and blow raisins out of his nose hole. And, she thought as she peeled open the ill-gotten fun sized candy bar, she really did love Three Musketeers.