rainglitchblonde

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October Moon

THIS IS THE SECOND INSTALLMENT OF A 2 PART SERIES to understand the plot, you MUST read October Sun.

summary: in the aftermath of the theater of terrors, there'd been a single, short moment of silence when everyone had been too stunned to speak. too frightened confused sick horrified to say a word. and then everything had descended into chaos.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smutty smut smut. mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

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OCTOBER MOON prologue

There was a single, short moment of silence before the commotion began. A moment of confusion and sick loss that weaved its way between and through everyone until it thinned into a desperate need to understand what they'd all just been through.

"He was so alone," Charley whimpered, pitiful, arms curled around his middle as he tried to forget the little boy who'd needed someone to stay with him so badly, "I didn't want to leave him..."

Rhonda scowled, "How could she not know!?" Spitting her anger through gritted teeth, gesturing widely as if the air was too close and she had to push it away.

Wally was frantic, hands moving as fast as his mouth, "I saw Maddie's dad—"

"What?" Weakly, tortured, "Where? Why did you get to see him and I didn't?" And Maddie began to tremble because she'd always known her father had died but she and her mother had never been given more than a feeble, 'it was an accident'.

An accident that had rendered her father unrecognizable and dead. An accident that had driven her mother to the bottom of too many bottles and away from her daughter. An accident Maddie had never believed because she'd known, she'd KNOWN, it was a lie. But rather than see him, she'd been stuck in a hospital room with a twelve-year-old girl and her great-aunt, forced to watch as Then Deputy Baxter held his hat to his chest and declared a little boy dead.

It wasn't fair and Wally held her even as he explained, "Janet was there," to Charley and Rhonda who stared at him in disbelief.

They all talked over each other, "What was she doing there?" - "Do you think Mr. Martin knows?" - "Maybe that's why he helped her move on; he knew she was dangerous!" - "He can't know, if he did, he wouldn't have let her near us."

Meanwhile, Ajay was urgently scouring the rows, under every seat, down every aisle, calling out Mina's name before disappearing at a run to the back of the stage, into the rafters, "Mina, Mina, Mina!" Over and over, heart in his throat, where was she, she never left the theater, where was she!?

But all of that faded into the background when you heard a weak, strained voice ask, "Why didn't you tell me?"

On your knees on the stage, staring blankly at the spot the farmhouse door had been, you tried to make your mouth work. There was no evidence of the supernatural wind; no smashed stage light, no cuts on your skin, nothing. Slowly, you panned to Xavier who stepped toward you, his face pained, his brow creased and eyes filled with so much sorrow it felt like a kick to the heart.

Meekly in return, you confessed, "That's not how it happened," as if that solved the problem. A band-aid over a bullet wound, as true as it was.

No, you'd snuck into one of those old heritage properties near the elementary school to get out of the rain. Aiden had wandered off when you'd tried calling Nanna to pick you up. He'd fallen down the steep steps and hit his head so hard on the stone wall that he'd bled out at the bottom of the stairs. You'd watched his spirit rise after tumbling down yourself.

It was in your statement to Xavier's father. That was how you'd remembered it, in vague flashes, for the past six years.

"I didn't......it wasn't like that." You repeated, forcing the words out around the lump in your throat. "I didn't remember..."

You couldn't even be sure Xavier was talking about Aiden and not about connectedness and how you didn't seem at all confused about a door that had appeared from the ether like a ghost. His face told you everything, though. It was indeed about Aiden.

Xavier collapsed to his knees in front of you, devastated, "How? How do you not remember that? How could you not tell me?" It wasn't harsh or mean or loud though part of you wished it was. It was a quiet expression of betrayal. And then, a breathy whisper, "He was my brother, too."

Maybe not biologically, but emotionally, spiritually, it was true. Xavier had held Aiden as a baby; had held Aiden's hand on his first day of kindergarten; had taught him big words to impress his teachers, and how to kick a ball into the net, and how to skateboard like a big boy, and how to—you shook, eyes welling with tears as Xavier continued to look at you like you'd just shattered his whole world.

"Xavier," Maddie said softly, her own voice rattled with grief, "It's not her fault."

Xavier exhaled deeply as he turned his head to Maddie, pressed his lips together, suddenly appearing anxious beneath the pain, "When did you get back?"

Maddie shot you a helpless look and you took the responsibility from her, saying in a wet tone, "She didn't, Zav."

Xavier was confused for a long minute, staring at Maddie as if he could piece her together like a puzzle.

He blinked several times, looked—really looked—at the students he didn't recognize, noticing their outdated apparel, their pale complexions, their...not-really-thereness. All at once, it struck him, a knife-twisting epiphany while your voice in his mind, carefree and purposefully teasing, told him and Mathilda about your hot football player ghost. He gazed at Wally Clark, the number 57 on the sleeve of his varsity jacket, and then swallowed.

Xavier's eyes closed almost as soon as his gaze returned to rest on you; his lips pressed together so you wouldn't see how the bottom one wobbled. His shoulders tensed, and, when he opened his eyes again, he couldn't stomach to look at you. In that moment, he understood like common sense exactly where he stood with you and it hurt.

"Zav," You whimpered, reaching for him, but he shifted away, shaking his head. "Zav, please," You attempted, shuffling forward on your knees. He stood, stumbled back a step and then grabbed his head, breathing heavy.

"No." He said, then louder, "No, no way." You clambered to your feet as he jumped off the stage. "It's too much," He said and you could tell he was fighting tears, "I can't do this."

He marched to the top of the center aisle as you called after him, pausing only for a second to glance back at you over his shoulder, his expression utterly destroyed, and then he opened the door and left.

You made to run after him, but Wally grabbed you, pulled you to his chest.

"Let him go, baby," he said, calm and soft, and when you struggled, wailing, folding forward, and falling to the ground, he went with you and cradled you in his arms. Let you cry out everything that had happened; with Aiden, with the farmhouse cellar, with the cult, and Amelia and Anabelle. All of it. Wally held you through it, shushing you, holding your head to his chest, rocking you, kissing your hair between variations of, "I've got you, baby, I'm right here."

As you began to recover, thick sniffs and small whimpers, you burrowed into the safety and comfort of Wally's arms, not wanting the others to see you like that. Unfortunately, you didn't have a choice. Your phone vibrated in the back pocket of your skirt. Wally shamelessly retrieved it, handing it off to Maddie without a word.

"Simon's here." She said, as somber and morose as the rest of them.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Nicole had been a saint. Picked Xavier up even though he'd been late, had allowed him to sit stoically in the car the whole drive. Until something that'd been nagging at her had finally prompted her to ask how he'd known about Claire's hot-and-cold behavior.

He'd been too...fuck, defeated? Hollowed out? Numb, really, to care that Nicole had deduced in his silence that he'd cheated on Maddie with Claire. Xavier had barely tried to defend himself. Stopped talking after a few words when it'd hit him that it hadn't fucking mattered.

After everything that'd happened in the theater, the shit he'd seen. The murder and then—Jesus Christ—the cover up, Xavier hadn't been able to muster a single fuck to give.

He was still disturbed by his dad's reaction to the evidence Xavier had found in his home office. A bagged and bloodied patch, black thread stitched into khaki spelling Maddie's last name. He thought he was going to be sick, lowering the window and sticking his head out for some air.

Nicole had ordered him to stay in the car while she searched the crowd at Horror Con for Maddie. Who she wouldn't find because Maddie was a ghost at school which meant she was dead. How long had you known?

He didn't want to talk about it with you. Didn't think he was capable of looking you in the eye right now after everything he'd experienced and learned. The sheer extent of the shit you'd been keeping from him for years. Who even were you? What even were you? A witch? A medium?

Did it matter? His mind asked and Xavier clenched his eyes shut, fists balled in his lap. Whatever you were, you'd hidden it from Xavier for over a decade of friendship. And it fucking hurt. You were the only person in the world he could trust, who he'd believed would be there for him through anything and everything.

Through his dad's profound betrayal... How was he going to get through that? He'd seen it with his own eyes. Austin Baxter, Deputy favored to take over Sheriff Stallow, forcing a dead and mangled Christopher Nears behind the wheel of his car and rolling it off the cliff into the quarry for pit workers to find the following morning.

Xavier's stomach rolled.

His dad hadn't said it, but the timing made sense. Xavier's mom probably found out and that's why she'd left. Why she'd abandoned Xavier, he didn't know, but that barely stung in the face of everything else.

What had caused Xavier the most distress during the encounter with his dad, though, had been the weird, flickering threads of light that kept appearing in the air. Faint and glowing. First blue then spun black, then blue again. Strung between Xavier and his dad as if it connected them.

He'd seen one between he and Nicole when he'd climbed into her car. A soft yellow that hadn't seemed established, so dim and loose. He'd nearly asked her to take him to the hospital for an MRI, but decided against it. Some instinct deep in his soul told him it wasn't a tumor. That it was so much more than anything that could be explained by medical science.

Xavier sat in the car for almost twenty minutes, his brain a maelstrom of anger and grief and hurt and anger again. He'd seen Maddie. She'd been there. Probably knew about Claire. Probably hated Xavier's guts. God, she'd probably told you about it, too, and now you didn't care if Xavier was upset or not because you hated him as much as he hated himself for what he'd done.

Unable to marinate in his thoughts any longer, Xavier ditched the car and charged into the crowd to find Nicole. He felt horrible that she was worrying herself sick trying to find someone who wouldn't be found. He knew she hated the horror stuff as much as Xavier did, yet she was in there, doing it scared because she loved Maddie more than Xavier had.

He grabbed a Pennywise mask off some rando on a bench and donned it, tried to blend in. He didn't want anyone from school to see him, they still wanted his blood for whatever had happened to Maddie. Murderer, they called him behind his back.

Maybe he was. God. Was it...his fault that Maddie was dead?

Those fucking threads kept blinking into and fading from existence, linking strangers to each other. Webs of relationships that made Xavier dizzy trying to follow them. He felt his chest tug and glanced down, saw that thin, pale yellow thread pulling ahead.

Taking a leap, he followed it until he saw Nicole.

He reached out, she shoved him away, terrified. Xavier ripped the mask off, having forgotten about it in his amazement over the delicate thread connecting him to Nicole.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" She demanded, visibly shaken.

"Looking for you." He said, stepping an inch closer, worried at how close to a mental breakdown Nicole seemed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," She croaked between hard breaths.

Xavier gave her a concerned look, "Are you sure? Because you look a little shook up."

She didn't appreciate that, "Just go back to the car, Xavier."

It unraveled from there. The next thing he knew, she was yelling at him, accusing him of failing Maddie—"Yeah, it definitely has the whole 'someone who's supposed to look after you fails' thing going for it," you'd said—and he cast his gaze to the ground, ashamed and overwhelmed with guilt.

"She's nowhere, she's gone!" Nicole cried, movements frantic.

"I know that!" Xavier said before he realized. He did know. He knew where Maddie was—her ghost, at least—and he knew Nicole wouldn't find her at Horror Con, and he knew he was probably to blame for all of it. But...he still couldn't tell her everything. Fuck, she'd think he was crazy, anyway, so he exposed different vulnerable flesh and said, "You're right. I failed her."

It was an appeal for forgiveness.

"And if I could take back what I did, I—" He thought of Aiden. He thought of you. He thought of Claire and Maddie. "But I can't. I have to live with that." He looked Nicole in the eye, desperate, "So, if it makes you feel better to hit me, then please, swing away."

Xavier couldn't stop thinking about Aiden's little body being put in that ambulance. Blue lips and alabaster skin. Dead. And all the blood that'd covered Christopher Nears' body, all the blood that had gushed out of the hole that had once been his face, shoved behind the wheel of his car by Xavier's dad.

His voice cracked, "I just... I'm sorry."

Nicole turned, didn't say a word, and didn't protest when Xavier quietly followed her from person to person, showing them Maddie's photo until she burned herself out.

Sitting together at a picnic table, Nicole said, "I really thought she would be here."

"I know." Xavier sighed, eyes down, regretful and biting his tongue.

A long, tense silence and then Nicole croaked, "I think Simon might be right.

She didn't need to elaborate. Xavier knew that Simon thought Maddie was dead. Nicole had ranted to Xavier about it yesterday when they'd finalized plans to search Horror Con for Maddie. Before he knew the truth.

He didn't have it in him to break her heart and tell her that, yeah, Simon was right. Instead, he stared at that thin, warming thread, the color deepening into a soft orange from his chest to Nicole's. Xavier placed his hand palm-up in the space between him and Nicole on the bench, staring blankly ahead as he tried to suppress what he'd seen in the theater. How he felt about it. How he felt about you.

Moments later, without a word, Nicole placed her hand in his.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Derek Anderson hated this fucking town. He hated what he'd had to resort to. The man he'd become. The cards he'd been dealt. He was done.

He'd used his one phone call to beg forgiveness and ask for help from the one person he could trust with everything. Your Uncle Andrew. Derek's best friend since their early rowdy college days. Andrew was two years older than Derek, but had started college a year after. Had taken time off to backpack across South America and live like a nomad.

The guy was nuts, a free spirit, and exactly who Derek needed right then. He stared ahead, at the mirror he knew was a window, the deputies behind it discussing his fate. The state appointed attorney had been of little help, but had assured Derek would be released on bail within 24 hours.

Fuck.

What was he going to do now?

His whole career had been blown up in a matter of seconds because Simon Elroy was convinced Derek had murdered Madison Nears. He should've seen it coming. Had known the kid was hellbent on finding Maddie, and had already discovered the cash Derek had been hiding in his classroom.

Yeah, fine, he should've been more careful, but how the hell had Simon found it in the first place?

Derek dropped his head into his hands and tried to breathe slowly. A suggestion from Ms. Chung who'd been at the staff meeting when Simon had monologued Derek's guilt. She'd also been the only person to show him any sympathy, his other colleagues immediately putting distance between themselves and him, the new Split River scandal.

"Don't worry," Ms. Chung said, rubbing his back as Derek waited for the cops in Principal Hartman's office. "Everything will work itself out. Just be honest."

"That entails telling them that I did actually commit fraud." Derek chuckled, dry and flat, his world crumbling. "God, Meredith, what am I going to do?"

She didn't tell him. Didn't have any advice. Just another placating, "It'll be okay," that did nothing apart from make him more anxious.

The door to the interrogation room opened and Sheriff Baxter entered. Derek huffed a humorless snort, shaking his head in disbelief. A boy who'd been picked last in gym class had become the town's protector. A boy Derek had been guilty of bullying in elementary school, so the Sheriff got him back years later by marrying the woman Derek had seen a future with.

He'd never felt more fucked in his life.

"Your friend called the front desk," Sheriff Baxter began, taking the seat across from Derek. "He's arranged for his sister to stay with the old man tonight. Is there anyone else who could take him on, long term, you think?"

Derek shook his head. "No. No one. My aunt died a year ago, I don't have any siblings. He'd be left to the state."

"Alright," Sheriff Baxter said after a long lull, "Look, we're going to keep you for the next twenty-four hours while we investigate the accusation Simon Elroy brought against you." He paused, studied Derek as if waiting to see if he'd spit excuses or threats. Something vile that Derek wasn't feeling. When he didn't, Sheriff Baxter continued, "After that, there'll be a bail hearing and, if you post it, you'll be closely monitored pending a trial. Unless the school is virtuous enough to drop the charges."

Derek nodded, eyes on the metal table, heaving a sigh that made his bones ache. "Got it."

"Okay, then, let's get you settled in for the night." Sheriff Baxter stood, came around the table and hooked his hand under Derek's arm to pull him to his feet.

He was escorted to one of the private holding cells, uncuffed and locked in. A lumpy cot and thin, itchy blanket, flat pillow, and moonlight. He hated everything in that moment, but most of all himself.

Why had he done it? It hadn't even occurred to him to try something so misguided until he'd heard a story about how easy it'd been to get away with. You can do anything on a computer these days, and, why shouldn't I have trusted them, they were so nice!

That woman who'd known his dad back in the day and still visited every weekend. Darcy Behr. She'd been nattering his father's ear off over iced tea when she'd let slip about a scam she'd been naïve enough to fall for.

He shouldn't have done it. He shouldn't have glommed onto that of all things. He could've figured something out. Sold the furniture, his mother's jewelry, the fucking house. Instead, he'd resorted to fraud because it'd seemed so much simpler and less painful than parting with memories.

Derek sat on the cot and stared at the wall. If it weren't for his father, he would've gotten the fuck out of Split River years ago when he'd had the chance.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

You and Simon had just retrieved Mr. Anderson's phone from the top of the lockers. It had been a joint effort, Simon lifting you, your ass pressed into his cheek while he grimaced toward the end of the hall, petrified that your, "dead boyfriend is going to kill me and then I'll be stuck here, too."

"He's not even here, Simon, calm down." You'd rolled your eyes as you'd grabbed the phone. Once he'd placed you on your feet, you'd handed the phone to Simon to hold on to.

Making your way out of the school, Simon asked, "Do you know what Xavier saw?"

You shook your head, "No," solemn, shrinking into yourself as you continued, "And I doubt I'll ever know. He's never going to talk to me again."

You felt Simon's arm drape supportively around your shoulders before he squeezed you into his side, smiling softly as he said, "He'll come around."

"Maybe," You said, not so sure. While Simon had taken the news of your abilities like it was just another day in the neighborhood, Xavier wasn't so quick to move on. He held grudges as if they were missions entrusted to him by the gods. He still didn't trust Hana enough to drink chocolate milk around her after she'd stolen one of his during recess in 1st Grade...

Simon moved the conversation along, "So, you think this Amelia person is still out there. What about that cult? Think she assembled a new team of yes-men to sacrifice?"

You pondered the question as Simon held the door open for you to walk outside. "Honestly, I'm not sure. I'll see what I can find about the Something-Something of Dagda when I get home." You turned your head to look at him, "I really hope that whatever reason she had to kill Aiden isn't connected to why Maddie's a ghost."

Simon nodded and then, quite absurdly, said, "And here I thought we were dealing with aliens."

You stopped walking, stunned into silence, mouth gaping as you absorbed his words. At last, after a second or two of staring at him like he'd grown a second head, you blurted, "Aliens?"

"Or mummies," Simon shrugged easily, snickering at you.

You couldn't help it. It began in fits and starts, and then a loud laugh bubbled out of you that was contagious, Simon snorting and laughing along with you. After everything that had happened in the theater, you hadn't been sure you'd ever be able to laugh again. It felt good. Liberating. Your spirit warmed and somewhat renewed in the wake of such a nightmare.

He opened the passenger side door of his car for you, but as he made his way around to the driver's side, you and he heard a frantic, "Simon!" followed by an equally as worked up, "Babe!"

Instantly, you spun around and Simon halted mid-step, both of you drawn away from the car as Maddie and Wally ran down the path from the school. You glanced at Simon and then shifted to meet Wally and Maddie in the bus shelter. Simon's brow furrowed as he waited for Maddie to explain.

All she managed between gasps was, "4-9-5-2-7-3."

It took a moment, but Simon got with the program quickly, pulling Mr. Anderson's phone out of his pocket. He punched in the numbers when Maddie repeated them more slowly. As he did, you unconsciously moved closer to Wally who strung his arm around your waist, stamping a sweet kiss to your hairline, his big hand engulfing your hip.

You snuggled into his side, weight leaned comfortably into him, and you felt him give your hip a little squeeze. When you looked up, he was already staring down at you, a soft smile on his face.

"Where does Mr. Martin think you are?" You wondered quietly, gazing up at Wally.

"I told him I was gonna make sure Maddie was okay. She bolted out of there and he was kinda worried." He explained into your hair as he pressed another kiss to your head.

You hummed and rested your head against his chest, happy to bask in his presence until "...You've reached Claire Zomer. Do me a fave and just text me, okay?"

Before anyone could react, you felt Wally tense. "Wait. Isn't that the chick Xavier was cheating on Maddie with?"

There was a pause. You looked at Maddie. Maddie looked at Simon. They both looked back at you. And you, so slowly, panned up to look at Wally.

"WHAT!?"

💀___________________________

OCTOBER SUN PT.27 - PART ONE

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