The wait was agony for Sam - he had no doubts that Chris was coming but he had no idea of what costume he had decided to wear or if the kids had any idea of what was about to happen. He had tried to keep his face neutral, to not give anything away, but this was Sam and his kids knew him better than he knew himself and while they had missed the issues he had been plagued with for months (thank god for that) they could usually tell when he was hiding something from them and Margot almost always had a way of ensuring she got it out of him. But not tonight. The excitement of what tonight was easily overshadowed whatever secret Sam and Chris might have. Pip had been crushing on one of the neighborhood kids (he wouldn’t divulge further) and had mentioned that his Riddler was meant to be a partner to their costume and as more and more kids began to emerge from the homes, he caught himself looking around to see just who else was dressed as a Batman villain. Margot meanwhile was screaming for her “sister” Ana, the little girl across the street that had become her best friend. His decorations were prominent, he’d won again this year and told himself that he’d finally give someone else a chance next year but even he doubted those words. Everything felt normal as he made small talk with everyone around but looking beyond them for any sign of his ex-fiance.
He watched as Pip’s stance stiffened when someone dressed as the Penguin walked up and together, they disappeared to talk about whatever kids their age were into but Sam couldn’t help but notice the way Pip was behaving and it put a smile on his face regardless. He felt his phone buzzing in his pocket and pulled it out, excusing himself from the crowd as he texted the number back. It was Chris, announcing that he was almost there and how excited he was to see the kids again. Yes, the kids. Chris’s affections were no longer towards him and he was okay with that - well he wasn’t but he had started telling himself that daily in the hope that eventually he would believe it. He had formed a bond with Pip and Margot that couldn’t be matched and even though they weren’t together anymore, Sam would never deny him the opportunity to see them. It felt like a custody agreement, except Chris wasn’t threatening to take them away or demand they live with him permanently. All Chris wanted was to see them, to spend time with them and Sam eagerly agreed. He walked around and mingled but it wasn’t what he wanted to do so after the crowd thinned and most of the kids had left with their parents to start their trick or treat journey, Sam and the kids sat down around the table on their patio and handed out candy to anyone who walked up. Finally, there was a honk and all three of them looked at each other beore they ran to the window and looked out to see Chris pulling into their driveway. “Daddy is that….” “He’s back?” “OH MY GOD, ITS HALLOWEEN, ARE WE HAVING A WEDDING NOW?!” Margot’s scream caused a blush to creep onto his face but he shook his head. “No… not yet. He’s… still filming.” He said, a sad but confident smile crept onto his face as he stood up, preparing himself for the hardest acting job of his entire life. He walked the long distance (when did the path become the yellow brick road?) and threw open the door to come face to face with Chris, still as handsome as ever, if not more so. “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise!”
He grabbed tighter to the large, wicker basket overflowing with the special-order, impossible-to-find British chocolates Pip loved, and the tiny tiara Margot had begged him to bring back from the "filming trip." He took a deep breath, the crisp night air stinging his lungs, and opened the car door.
Stepping onto the driveway felt like walking onto a stage. The decorations, Sam’s masterpiece, were even more spectacular than Chris remembered—cobwebs draped like ghostly lace, glowing green fog curling around the porch steps, and the triumphant, oversized Grim Reaper standing guard. Sam had won the neighborhood contest again, of course.
Chris's heart hammered against the thick wool of his outfit as he waited for the door to open. He adjusted the brim of his jacket at the cuffs. This was a ridiculous idea. A stupid, self-indulgent, completely unnecessary idea. He reached Sam’s front porch, the carved pumpkin grinning mockingly from the railing. It was Halloween, and the neighborhood glowed with the orange flicker of lights and the buzz of excited children.
He saw the movement inside the house, a sudden flurry as they rushed to the window. Chris lifted a gloved hand and offered a small, awkward wave. He could almost hear Margot's squeal from here. The thought made the heavy cloak feel a little lighter.
He stood there waiting for what felt like forever, trying to focus only on the door and not the surrounding houses where Sam’s neighbors might be lurking, ready to ask about his "film schedule" or worse, offer genuine condolences on their split. He could hear the rapid thud of his own heart beneath the shimmering fabric of his waistcoat. He was not here for Sam. He was here for the kids. The kids. He repeated the mantra, trying to make himself believe the simplicity of the statement.
Just as he didn't expect it, the door was thrown open. Sam stood there, framed by the warm glow of the hall light. He was dressed in a simple button-down, handsome as always, his expression a practiced mask of surprise and delight—a performance Chris instantly recognized.
"Well, isn’t this a nice surprise!" Sam said, the voice loud, carrying just the right note of unexpected pleasure. It was pitched perfectly for the kids hovering somewhere behind the door.
Chris stood tall, adjusting his posture to match the character. He gave a slight, formal bow, letting the shimmering cape flare out behind him.
"Good evening, fine sir," Chris said, his voice dropping slightly lower, laced with an artificial formality. He held out the wicker basket. "Prince Reginald, at your service. I was told two of the most charming—and trickiest—subjects in the kingdom reside within this castle." The brief eye contact with Sam was electric, a quick, sharp reminder of everything they had lost.
