Fandom: Halloween. Takes place during Halloween 5.

Fiction Rating T for a little violence and blood. Not much but enough to make squeamish people go ewwww.

Summary: This is a rewrite of a certain scene that I think could've been done better.

Disclaimer: John Carpenter and Debra Hill own the character of Michael Myers. I just like to play with him now and then.

Just Like You

Jamie Lloyd lay on the bed shivering, watching the knife that was being raised over her chest. The man holding the knife was ready to bring it down when the desperate girl shouted out the one word that might save her.

"Uncle!"

The knife paused.

"Boogieman?" Jamie whispered, as if unsure what else to call him.

The knife lowered slowly, until it dangled at the man's side.

Michael Myers stared down at the girl on the bed. His own niece, the target he'd been chasing all over this godforsaken house. Just a moment ago he'd been ready to cut her to pieces. Why wasn't he doing it now?

"Let me see..." She pointed to her face and Michael realized she wanted him to take off his mask. His hands had begun to fumble with the rubber face before he could stop himself, before he even thought about what he was doing or why he did it. The sensation of cool air on his true skin hit him like a physical force as he let his niece see him unmasked. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this exposed.

He hadn't looked at himself in a mirror for so long he'd forgotten what he really looked like. Would the sight of him frighten the girl even more than his knife had?

"You're just like me"

His eyes widened. How could she say that? Michael's stare focused on Jamie with an intensity that seemed to search her soul, looking for what lay beyond the face of the innocent little girl. And then he found it, the taint left by the same curse he was marked with. It was already under her skin, working it's way deeper into her soul, changing her in subtle ways that only one who knew what to look for could see. It was what had stopped him from killing her. It had created the telepathic link they shared. She was just like him. Or else she would be, given time. When the lust to kill became too much, the innocent little girl would be replaced by a vicious monster capable of killing the people closest to her. The monster had already appeared once when she'd attacked her foster mother but hadn't been strong enough at that time to take complete control.

He hadn't even realized he was crying until he felt the tear roll down his cheek. She would become an outcast, hated and feared by everyone. They would lock her up in mental institutions and treat her like some rare and exotic animal, just like they'd treated him. He'd had no one to help him bear his curse, having to deal with it completely on his own. Now his little niece was going to suffer the same fate.

No. He wouldn't let that happen. His niece let out a surprised squeak as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"My God!"

Sam Loomis stood in the doorway, carrying a sawed-off shotgun that looked ridiculously out of place in the hands of such an old man. He stared in horror at the hugging pair. "It's in both of you! You're both evil!"

And he pointed the shotgun directly at Jamie.

Before Michael had time to react, Jamie had picked up his fallen knife and hurled it with deadly accurarcy at the psychiatrist. It landed squarely in the center of his forehead with a meaty thwack.

The shotgun fell from the dying man's limp fingers as he crumpled to the floor. Jamie stared down at the dead body lying face first in a spreading pool of its own blood, then back up at her uncle. She burst into tears.

Michael pulled her to him, letting her cry into his chest. He wouldn't let her carry her curse alone. He would be there for her. When she was ready to kill the remainder of her foster family, he would help her. Then they could disappear until their time came around again.

Michael gazed down on Jamie, his sister's child, and smiled for the first time in fifteen years.

She was his child now.