"I'm not claiming to be an expert on anything, you bitch."

.

.

.

"I know you're annoyed that we left Layla behind," Sam said as she kept her eyes trained on the road ahead of them. She could hear Tara huffing in the backseat of Richie's car, unaware that her cut up hands were frantically rummaging through her bag in search for the younger Carpenter's missing inhaler. "But I left a message for Mom and I told her where we're going. Once this is all over, once they've somehow caught this bastard... we can tell Layla too."

Tara didn't respond, just increasing the speed of which she rummaged her hands through the bag. Sam looked up in the mirror, noticing that Tara wasn't listening to a word that she had just said and was instead preoccupied.

"You good back there?" Sam asked, worry in her voice as she noticed the state that Tara was working herself into.

"FUCK! Where is it?" The girl exhaled, getting frustrated as she looked back up at Sam for a moment. The girl reached up, switching on the light above her to aid in the search as she began to throw clothes from the bag into the backseat of the car. Tara spoke up again, realising that Richie and Sam were still looking at her like she had gone mad. "My inhaler, I usually keep an extra one."

Sam turned her fur attention to her sister, contemplating the situation. "Should we go back?"

"Whoa, hold on. I vote for not going back to the murder hospital!" Richie, almost slamming on the breaks in disbelief at the suggestion, chimed in immediately. 

He was ignored. Sam exchanged glances with Tara, both of them worried about what might happen if Tara didn't have her inhaler in the first place. It would be quick - they could go, grab her inhaler and get straight back on the road.

"You want to stop at a pharmacy?" Sam suggested, but she wasn't stupid. She knew that they wouldn't be able to just get an inhaler of the level that Tara needed from a pharmacy. She just didn't want to let the other suggestion fall off her lips.

"I'd need a prescription," Tara said, before her eyes snapped up to Sam's with a sudden realisation. Her fingers fiddled with her phone, her eyes focusing hard as she zoomed in and out on the screen with a determined look. "Layla always carries my spare, she's at Ambers house! It's on the way!"

Tara almost grinned at the sheer chance of it. She knew that Amber and the others were having a gathering in memory of Wes, but she was surprised that Layla was there after what had happened to Dewey. She thought the last thing her girlfriend would be doing is partying.

"No! NO!" Richie tried to argue, but it was useless as Sam and Tara both knew that she needed that inhaler or Ghostface might as well have just finished her off back at the hospital anyway.

"Okay, what's the address?"

"123, no fucking way lane!" Richie replied, causing the two girls to glare at him as he continued to drive down the road and further away from Amber's house. Sam shot him an exasperated look, knowing that he was scared but just wishing that he could see this was the only solution to them being able to leave Woodsboro with all three alive by the time they got to Modesto.

"Richie, she needs it!"

"And I need to keep all the blood inside my body!" He snapped back, his eyebrows almost disappearing into his hair line as he raised them in frustration. "So do you!"

"Richie, please," Tara half-wheezed, her chest feeling a little tighter now than it had previously. He looked up at her in the mirror, a half groan on his lips as he gripped the steering wheel tighter and turned around in the road to head back in the direct of Woodsboro.

"Fuck," he breathed, rolling his eyes almost. "What's the goddam address?"

Stage one was in motion.

_______

The music seemed to quiet for a moment as Mindy and Layla walked up Amber Freeman's drive, as if even the house sensed the weight of Layla's grief. Mindy puffed out her chest and squared up to those that stared at Layla for slightly too long as they walked up the drive, everyone diverting their eyes once they were called out for staring.

News travelled fast in Woodsboro - everyone knew that Layla had just watched her adoptive father die in the hospital. Tara had been attacked, again, yet here the girl was as if nothing had happened. Mindy hated the fact that it was giving her bad vibes, hating that she was at a point in her life where she was now having to consider if her friends were going around killing each other.

"Layla?" Chad's voice was a gentle shout, as if he couldn't quite believe his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

The girl shrugged, feeling numb as she took the beer that Amber passed her as the dark haired girl entered the room. She was also surprised at seeing Layla here so quickly, a development that she hadn't predicted earlier that afternoon when planning the party.

Chad didn't hesitate to stand up from the couch, his arms wrapping tightly around his best friend. He pulled Layla into a tight embrace, feeling the shudders that racked Layla's body. The two friends stood in the doorway, ignoring the party that blazed on around them, as Layla's grief refused to spill out in a torrent of tears and broken sobs. She knew that it would hit her soon, but until then, she wasn't going to let anyone see how much she was hurting.

The atmosphere inside the Freeman residence was a stark contrast to the heaviness that Layla carried, and she felt like an outsider in a world that had lost all color. The moment she stepped into the house and the whispers and curious glances started, she wondered if any of them knew who had done this to her adoptive father.

"This is supposed to be a memorial," Amber reminded Chad as the boy downed a shot as he pulled away from Layla, passing the girl one and smiling at her as she let the clear liquid pour down her own throat too. Amber rolled her eyes, crossing her arms across her chest as her eyes flickered with thinly veiled annoyance at the two of them.

"Well, this is how I mourn and distract myself from the looming specter of Death," Chad snarked back, allowing both himself and Layla to flop down on to the couch in the middle of the room. She snuggled her head against his shoulder, pulling out her phone and furrowing her eyebrows a little as she saw no new notifications.

She knew that Tara, Sam and Richie were long gone from Woodsboro by now, but it hurt that she was apart from the one person that she knew she could trust the most in the world. Layla understood it was for the best, and that Tara wasn't safe here, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of her head telling her that this didn't just end with Woodsboro.

"Hey, we're low on beer," Mindy told Amber, rolling her eyes at Chad and Layla lying across the couch as the party continued on. Amber snapped her glare away from the back of their heads, turning to look at Mindy in acknowledgement.

"There's more in the basement, I'll go get some."

Layla turned her head to thank Mindy for driving them, only to furrow her eyebrows a little as she realised that the girl was now no-where in sight. Her eyes flickered over to the basement door, a small concern flickering through her chest before the ping of her phone snapped her out of her worry.

where are u? - gale

___

Gale sighed as she looked down at her phone, noticing how the read receipt showed that Layla had read her message but not replied. She knew that the girl was hurting with the loss of Dewey and she knew that Layla's initial reaction to trauma was always to bottle it up until she finally exploded - and Gale was wise enough to know that her adoptive daughter ignoring her was a perfect indication of this behaviour.

"If I hadn't have written that book about your mother, none of this would've happened," Gale finally said to Sidney, breaking the silence that had engulfed them as they drove towards the ping of the tracker location.

"Gale..."

"I started all of this - if I hadn't have wrote it, then none of this would have happened, Sid. Tatum, Ricardo, Dewey... they'd all still be here."

"No, you didn't," Sidney replied, her voice firm as she reached across the console and squeezed Gale's hand loosely. Their eyes met for a moment, understanding written in each other's faces as they thought about everyone else that they had lost. This was a trauma that they had shared for so long, and it needed to end. "Billy Loomis started this, and we're gonna end it."

Gale nodded in agreement as Sidney continued.

"After tonight, no more books, no more movies, no more fucking Ghostface."

____

"I still can't believe Wes is gone," Chad murmured, his voice tinged with a mixture of grief and disbelief. The party had continued to rage on, more and more alcohol being poured as the teens around them got drunker and drunker. Layla was clutching her third beer, Mindy and Amber having returned with more fresh from the fridge in the basement.

"I know, Chad. It's... it's been a tough week."

Chad turned his head to look at her, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange of understanding. He hadn't known Dewey that well, but he'd pretty much grown up around the man due to their family's shared history and Layla being his closest friend.

"I can't imagine what it would be like to lose you too," Chad admitted, his eyes no longer having any sparkle as he turned to look at her with no humour on his face. Layla nodded, fiddling with the bottle in her hands as she felt his concern under her own skin. She wished that she could look him in the eye and say it would be okay - but Layla knew that the chances of them both surviving this was getting smaller every day.

Layla placed a gentle hand on Chad's forearm, offering a small but genuine smile. 

"We're a team, Chad. And no matter what happens, we'll always have each other's backs."

Chad's lips twitched into a faint smile, a hint of guilt shining through his eyes. "Just like we had Wes's back."

"Wes wasn't our fault."

"We don't know that," Chad snapped, before apologising. He ran a hand through his hair, something that he often only did when he was stressed.

They fell into a contemplative silence, the memories of their adventures with Wes playing like a film reel in their minds. Wes's infectious laughter, his unwavering loyalty, and his remarkable ability to bring light to even the darkest situations—they were all etched into Chad and Layla's hearts. Sure, Layla and Wes hadn't seen eye to eye as much once she had found out about his crush on Tara, but she'd never stopped loving him.

Layla held on to his hand, her expression determined. Chad looked at her, wondering how she could be so fine right now after seeing all the things she had.

"We owe it to Wes to keep his spirit alive in us, to keep pushing forward no matter how tough things get. And believe me, this never goes away," Layla told him, Chad suddenly feeling a bit guilty for not having even thought about the trauma this had brought back for Layla after how her father had died.

A sense of unity enveloped them, a bond that transcended words. In that moment, they understood that their friendship was a lifeline—a thread of connection that could weather any storm. Layla just hoped, and she really hoped hard, that Chad wasn't connected to the reason behind any of this at all. She wasn't sure that was something she'd ever recover from.

"Chad, I want to go upstairs."

Chad and Layla turned their heads to see Liv standing in front of them, hands on her hips as she looked at the hand that Layla had rested on top of Chad's. No matter how many times they had told Liv that there would never be anything between them, she just didn't seem to lose the jealousy over their friendship.

"Like now? You want to go upstairs?" Chad asked, the uncertainty strong in his voice as he looked at the way she was looking at Layla. Slight alarm bells were going off in his head as he almost sensed the hostile energy from his girlfriend.

"Uh-huh," Liv replied, clearly pissed that he wasn't jumping at the opportunity to finally have sex with her. "Right now."

"Don't take this the wrong way," Chad started, causing Layla to shift uncomfortably as she sensed where this conversation was going. She looked over her shoulder, studying the scene as she tried to figure out what her exit plan was going to be before she somehow got dragged into this argument. "But I think I have to pass on that."

"What? Why? Is it because you're fucking Layla?"

Too late.

"Fuck off Liv," Layla replied, flipping her the middle finger as she rolled her eyes. Liv went to move towards her, but Wes lightly pushed her back and away from his friend.

"Look, you know, I'm not like entirely sure that you're not the... killer."

"Don't take this the wrong way?" Liv snarled, furious at what Chad was insinuating. Not only was she being publicly rejected from her boyfriend, but he was now saying that he didn't trust her enough to think that she wasn't going to try and murder him as soon as he got her clothes off.

"No, no, look I'm almost 100% certain that you are not, but... the safest option is to be down here with all the people..and the potential witnesses..."

"Fuck you," Liv snapped, storming away from the couch and into the crowds that surrounded them.

"That is a completely valid emotional response to have!" Chad replied as Liv turned around and stuck her finger up at him. "That too!"

Layla smiled softly at Chad, patting him on the shoulder as she stood up. He slumped a little into the couch, almost as if he was wishing that the couch cushions would swallow him alive out of embarrassment as people oohed around them.

"I'm not drunk enough for this," Layla joked, moving towards the kitchen. "See you in a bit, Chad."

_____

Layla washed her hands in the bathroom, the thump of the music outside reminding her where she was. Alone, in one of the many bathrooms in Amber's house, without her girlfriend and once again with a dead father. It seemed like history was just repeating itself over and over again in Woodsboro.

"Layla," Amber began cautiously, her voice breaking the silence that had enveloped the bathroom.

Layla screamed out loud as her gaze locked onto Amber's in the reflection of the mirror, jumping and spinning around to face her as she hadn't even heard the girl enter the bathroom. "Fucking hell, Amber. Why are you even in here?"

Amber shook her head, her fingers slowly tracing the necklace that rested around her neck, Layla knowing exactly who had given the jewellery to her. Amber took a deep breath, knowing that what she was about to say would kick off the rest of the night. 

"I just... I care about Tara. You know that. But lately, I've seen her hurt so much, and I can't help but wonder if this pattern between you two is healthy."

Layla's eyes blazed with a mixture of defensiveness and anger. "And you think you know everything about our relationship?"

Amber held Layla's gaze, undeterred by the hostility and met it with her own. "I don't claim to know everything, Layla - but I also don't fucking care about your feelings when it comes to Tara. I've seen her cry, I've seen her doubts, and I've seen her question herself because of this back-and-forth between you two. And EVERY TIME I'm left to pick up the pieces of her broken heart before you sweep back in and poison her again."

Layla's shoulders tensed, her jaw clenching as if trying to suppress her emotions. "You think I don't care about her?"

Amber's voice softened, her concern cutting through the tension. "I never said you didn't care, Layla. But caring isn't enough if it leads to this constant cycle of hurt. Ghostface has followed you your entire life, and now suddenly the people that are closest to you are being picked off one by one? Sorry if I'm a little suspicious of that."

Amber took a step closer, her voice cold. "I get it, Layla. I know that your bond with Tara is deep and rooted. But that doesn't mean it's immune to toxicity, and it certainly doesn't mean that I think you're innocent for a single second."

Layla's head snapped back towards Amber, her eyes narrowing. "You waltzed into her life not so long ago, and suddenly you're an expert on us? An expert on all things Ghostface and Woodsboro? I've been in this situation more times than Tara's probably even thought about you, and I'd never fucking wish this shit on anyone."

Amber held Layla's gaze, the weight of her stare undiminished. "I'm not claiming to be an expert on anything, you bitch. But I'm Tara's best friend, and I can't ignore her pain. You're not good enough for Tara! I love her and I want to see her happy, to see her with someone who brings out the best in her."

Layla scoffed, instantly understanding where this conversation was coming from now.

"Someone like who? You?"

Amber took a deep breath, her voice softer now. "Yeah, someone like me."

"You're fucking delusional!" Layla yelled, throwing her hands in the air as Amber continued to just stare at her with a look in her eyes that the girl couldn't quite place. "Tara will NEVER see you as anything but her friend - she doesn't fucking love you in that way!"

Layla went to push past Amber and exit the bathroom, but Amber's wrist shot out and latched itself around her upper arm with a force that Layla didn't realise the girl possessed. She struggled against her grasp, bringing her other arm back and slapping Amber directly across the face as the girl refused to let go.

"What the hell is your problem?" Layla spat, shoving Amber backwards to create more space between them as she went to exit the bathroom once more. Amber didn't try to stop her this time, instead raising a hand to her face to lightly touch her stinging cheek. She moved out the door behind Layla, looking down the stairs to see that Richie, Sam and Tara had just barrelled through the entrance to her house.

A smile slowly slid across her face, the grimace from her encounter with Layla now a distant memory.

They were in the end-game now.