#Charlie's father UWO

[dragonsdomain]

Out of Office chapter 6

AO3

Chapter 5

"Hey, hey."

Eugene groaned weakly as a voice penetrated his slumber. Who was that? Where was he? Why did everything hurt? Was he sick?

"Oh, uh, it's just... this is my stop, so I'm gonna go now, okay? And I wanted to make sure you were okay 'cause you don't look too good. So. You good?"

Eugene processed maybe half of whatever that was. He fought to open his eyes, hissing at the light, silently yelling at the world to stop spinning and shut up while he figured out where he was (then feeling bad for being rude to the world). A hand landed on his shoulder, and he jolted back to reality, letting out a little hiss.

"Hey? Dude? Are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital?"

Eugene breathed in air which felt cold. He became aware that he felt hot, and sweaty. Did he have a fever? Wait, that voice was... what was his name. Mike.

"Goodness, is he alright?"

"Er, I don't know. Eugene? Hey?"

Eugene finally processed that Mike wanted a response from him. He didn't want to. He felt hot and grimy and weirdly hollow inside, like parts of him he'd never wanted to be aware of were hanging open and exposed to the air. He finally managed to crack his eyes open and glance down at his chest, which was, strangely, intact.

"Did someone say 'Eugene'?"

Linda? His head was too heavy to look, but after a second, her face appeared in his line of sight. "Eugene? Honey? Are you alright?"

"Uh..." Eugene tried. Just the effort of generating sound made his head spin.

"Do you know him?" Mike asked quietly.

"Yes." Linda smiled at him gently. "I can take care of him from here. Thank you for your help, young man."

"Okay. Thanks. 'Bye. Uh, hope you get better, Eugene."

Linda's presence soon pulled up against Eugene's side, and he sagged against her (taking a second to wonder whether it was her or him that was burning hot).

"Woah, Eugene, don't fall asleep just yet." Linda's hand pointed Eugene's heavy face up toward hers. "Are you sick?"

Eugene fought to keep his eyes open. "I'm... a-uh... th' ghosts..." Oh, he'd tipped forward on her shoulder again. Uh, oops. This seemed like it would be a good time to sleep again, actually. If his head wasn't burning up. That didn't feel good, he'd like it to stop.

"...any water today? Come on, hey. Have you spent lots of time out in the sun? Eugene?"

Loud footsteps came over, and Eugene gritted his teeth as their owner spoke, close and unfamiliar and loud. "Is your son alright? Sick people aren't supposed to be using public transit, you know. At least not without masks."

"We're sorry," Linda said gently, though her voice was still a dagger to Eugene's brain, along with the sounds of everyone breathing and the subway grinding against the train tracks and somebody coughing once and the way every jolt of the train violently jerked Eugene's body up and down. What was going on? Linda was talking again. "...at the next stop."

"Alright, fine. Er, make sure he gets the help he needs. He looks awful."

"Okay," Linda responded cheerfully. As soon as the footsteps retreated again, she whispered sharply into Eugene's ear, "Eugene, I need to know whether to call an ambulance."

He jolted, then heaved a breathy moan. "Not again... I'm poor..."

"Eugene," she said, in a tone that left no room for negotiation.

"Hhh..." Eugene did feel awful, but the last scraps of logic in his brain knew that the hospitals of the living wouldn't have any idea what to do with this. "I'm just sick... and, um. Water. Yeah... need t'... drink water." There, that was a good argument. Eugene's face buried itself in Linda's shoulder again, and he gave a little sigh.

Linda grumbled even as she gently rubbed Eugene's back. "You had better be telling me the truth about this, okay?"

...

Charlie sat blankly on the wooden floor. Luke was standing near her, and she could glance over at the scissors he was holding, half-open, black ichor congealed on the blades.

Charlie couldn't look up, but she could feel the eyes of her father from every direction. At any second, whatever was holding him back-- oh, River's seal-- would fail, and he would reach in and drag her out, away from her friends and the temporary freedom she clung to, and back into the empty, dusty hallways of his control. He was such a large ghost. He must have died with such a burning hatred of her, one that had only been festering for however many years it had been. He would catch her, and this time there would be no escape. He was already dead. He could no longer be killed.

Distantly, Charlie registered Sean giving Luke a rundown on how things worked with evil spirits, on ghost artifacts, and how River's hair was protecting them. Luke's footsteps eventually retreated from the room, and there was the sound of running water. Charlie wished for protection, so she was sitting with her back to a wall, but she could feel the presence of her terrifying father directly on the other side, and felt already imprisoned by the knowledge that she was inches away from touching him. She wondered if she wanted to scoot away from the wall, but she couldn't bring herself to move, except to lean forward onto her knees. Luke's footsteps returned, and he placed her scissors, sparkling and clean, on the wood floor in front of her.

"You okay?" Luke asked gently.

"How much did Sean tell you about the ghost out there?" Charlie rasped.

"A tortured spirit, or 'monster', powerful and dangerous. Must've been nasty when he grabbed you."

"Huh," Charlie said. Her brain registered that Sean didn't know the spirit was her father. Luke didn't know. Somehow none of them had yet figured out that she was the entire reason he'd returned as a monster. That she had murdered him. Fun web of lies she'd woven, delicate as spider silk to be torn to shreds any second.

"Are you okay?" Luke repeated.

Charlie dropped her head back into her knees, waiting for Luke to give up on getting words out of her and leave.

Luke pushed the scissors closer to her.

Charlie closed her eyes. She didn't want to pick it up and then feel just as powerless as before.

"Ugh." Luke grabbed the scissors again and tapped them impatiently against the floor. "Your name is Charlie, right?"

Charlie grumbled out a sigh.

"You're being self loathy, aren't you? I know what that looks like. I know Eugene. Well guess what? You don't get to." Luke took Charlie's hand and placed the scissors into them. "Making yourself suffer by not accepting help from people isn't going to help anything. It's just going to make you feel worse. And I don't know you, but I know Eugene didn't even deserve it. This big ghost showing up isn't your fault."

Charlie tightened her grip around the scissors. "Shut up. I'm not like Eugene. You don't know what you're talking about."

Luke huffed a breath. "Fine. Be like that." He stood up and walked away.

Charlie let her grip loosen again, her scissors hanging off of one finger. Her eyes were wet. "I do deserve it," she whispered.

...

"This is fine, right? I mean, there can be lots of normal reasons why Luke isn't waking up, right?" Oliver asked desperately.

"How old are those smelling salts?" Joy said, ripping them out of Oliver's hand, then sniffing them. She gave a deranged little laugh. "Okay, yeah, these are definitely too old."

Oliver had returned to gently jostling Luke's limp body back and forth. "Luke, hey? Hey? Pleeease wake up."

"Hospitals are so expensive," Joy muttered to herself as she started pacing. "Do you think he has insurance? He's gotta, right? He's a cop. Maybe this isn't that bad, but it would be irresponsible not to take him to the hospital, right?"

"Hospital?" Oliver repeated, voice cracking. "He's-- he's possessed or something, Joy! We've gone and stuck a magic flower we know nothing about in his mouth, and now he's unconscious! Hospitals don't know what to do to fix stuff like that!"

Joy threw her hands apart. "Fine, Mister Supernatural! Then what do you suggest we do?"

Oliver hesitated. He glanced worriedly over at Luke's limp form, then took a deep breath. "I think... we should talk to Eugene."

Joy blinks at him. "What?"

Oliver cringes. "Luke was right. We shouldn't have been doing any of this behind his back. Not just because it was dishonest, but because we didn't know what we were getting into either."

Joy's expression sank. "But... we're so close. We finally have a lead. If we come clean to Eugene and stop now, we'll never find out what's wrong with him."

"We have more important things to worry about right now," Oliver said, pointing at Luke. "Whether or not this is something doctors can treat, Eugene will know how to fix it. It's his flower. We shouldn't have taken it."

Joy sagged against the wall. "Okay. Alright. Get him on the phone."

Oliver pulled up and clicked on Eugene's number, putting it on speaker. It rang into the quiet room as Joy and Oliver waited for Eugene to pick up. Then it reached his generic voicemail.

Joy raised a worried eyebrow at Oliver as the robotic voice listed the unavailable number. The beep sounded, and Oliver spoke into the phone to leave a message. "Hey, Eugene? Please call us back as soon as you can. We need your help." Oliver considered speaking the confession into the phone receiver then, but the words tangled on his tongue. There was an awkward second of silence, then he jabbed the hang up button.

Joy sat down onto a chair, rubbing her arms. "Call him again? Text?"

Oliver gnawed his lip anxiously. "This can't really wait for a text response. Maybe we should go to his house."

Joy combed a hand through her hair. "It might not be a good idea to move Luke though. Should one of us stay with him?" She grimaced. "I can go ahead and do it. This is my fault, anyway."

"Hey, no, if you want to go, go. I'd rather be with Luke so I don't have to be worrying all the time if something else has happened to him."

"You know I'll call you if anything happens out there though," Joy said, grabbing her bag and checking her shoelaces. "And I'll tell you when I find anything out."

"'Kay. Thanks." Oliver gave her a nervous thumbs up. "Good luck."

"Gotcha," Joy said, with an earnest mock salute, then she dashed up the staircase and out the door.

She pulled her own phone out of her pocket as she marched down the street, double checking for texts. Her phone started ringing, and she jumped. Eugene's number. She quickly answered, putting the phone up to her ear.

"Hello, this is Linda," said a matronly voice from the other side. "I'm with Eugene right now and saw you'd called."

"Oh. Hi." Joy pivoted and started speedwalking back towards her house and Oliver. "Could you give the phone to him? I really need to talk to Eugene."

"Alright, just a minute. Or... no, I'm sorry, he's not very lucid right now."

Joy's eyebrows pinched. "What? What's wrong with him?"

"He's dehydrated, I think. We're on our way to my flower shop."

"I'm going to come to you, okay?" Joy turned the phone to speaker so she could tap out a text to Oliver as she continued talking to Linda. "This is pretty important. I have to talk to Eugene."

"Alright then, I'll see you soon. It's 'Linda's Flower Shop'."

"Thank you," Joy said, then hung up.

As she passed her house, Oliver burst out of it and ran up to her. "Hi. Changed my mind. I'm coming too. Door's locked, Luke'll be fine."

Joy snickered, wondering if he'd even seen her text. "Whatever floats your boat."

Oliver grabbed her hand and pulled her along as he started sprinting down the street towards the flower shop.

...

The world faded in and out, and Eugene was slumped into Linda after their conversation for an instant, then being helped unsteadily to his feet the next, then they were heading up the staircase out of the subway station, with most of Eugene's weight supported by Linda (he wasn't completely sure he'd been supporting any of it, but his legs kept on moving as far as he was aware). At one point Linda slowed down to talk to someone on the phone, and Eugene couldn't register what she was saying with the way the words grated on his ears. At least the walk to Linda's flower shop was short enough.

Eugene thought he was probably imagining the aura of hatred choking the air leading closer to the shop. Maybe he was worse off than he thought.

He was forced back to lucidity when he comprehended Oliver and Joy dashing up towards the flower shop just as he and Linda neared it. Why were they here? Did Linda call them in to help him? This might be rough to explain.

The walked up to him and Linda, and Eugene tried to pull himself upright, but the wince on Joy's face made it clear he hadn't managed to fool her.

"Wow, you look bad," said Joy. "Is this really just dehydration?"

Eugene tried to pull out a response for her, but his head was spinning, and for a second it was all he could do to keep from fainting. Oliver stepped forward and slipped an arm under the side where Linda wasn't before Eugene could muster an answer.

"Whatever. Let's get you some water."

That malicious energy Eugene had sensed became powerful, and his eyes widened as he realized it was not in his imagination. Linda reached her hand towards the door of the flower shop. Eugene gripped the lock of River's hair in his pocket and opened his mouth to tell her to stop.

Several things happened very quickly. Linda turned the doorknob, and then cried out as the door was ripped wide open out of her grasp. A force slammed past her, and Oliver's grip was all that kept Linda and Eugene from hitting the pavement. Eugene tried to swing out River's hair, but he was too slow and too weak to do anything more than swipe harmlessly at the air in front of him.

A scream that sounded like Charlie stabbed directly into Eugene's head, then the force shoved back out the door, whipping it roughly against its hinges hard enough they likely would have snapped if not for the hair from River they were tied with.

And all was quiet.

Eugene's head was spinning again, and he spent a minute just doubled over next to Oliver (who was gaping in confusion) trying not to throw up. His chest was hurting again, though he was pretty sure he hadn't actually gotten injured again. Maybe soul wounds could get re-opened? Like when half-healed gashes started bleeding again? He needed to sit down. He needed to lie down. In the shade. Had he dropped River's hair? No, it was still clenched in his hand. He laboriously put it back in his pocket.

Also, what had just happened?

"Eugene?" Oliver nervously asked. "Do you know what that was about? There's no way that was the wind."

Eugene was tired. He was hurting. There was no way he could come up with an excuse. "Don't know," he mumbled breathlessly. A half truth. He could suspect it was a ghost, but he didn't know which one. Unless... there was something on the edge of his realization. What was he forgetting? His head was thick, everything hurt.

"Let's get him inside," Joy said. She sounded really worried. About the ghost? No, wait, about him. 'Cause she didn't know about the ghost.

Nnoooo, not the stairs, he didn't want to struggle up the... now they were at the top of the stairs. Eugene was slipping in and out of consciousness again. Had someone carried him up the stairs? Now both Joy and Oliver were supporting him.

They lowered him gently onto a couch, and Eugene liked how he could sink down into it, though not how warm it was. He could take a nap here. Should he take a nap here?

Presently Eugene noticed that he was alone in some sort of drawing room with Oliver and Joy. Joy was staring at him nervously while Oliver glanced around the room like he was trying to avoid his gaze.

"What?" Eugene asked tiredly.

Joy laughed desperately. "Well, uh, so we might have messed up. A little bit. And we need your help."

Oliver burst out, "We stole your magic flower and Luke put it in his mouth and then he fainted and we don't know what's wrong and we're really sorry and we hate to put this on you when you're sick and we promise we were just trying to help make things easier 'cause we were worried about you but now we've just made things worse and we're so sorry and we'll never do it again."

Eugene squinted, struggling to keep up with how fast Oliver had been talking. "...What?"

Joy grimaced. "Yeah. It was my idea. Probably a bad one. But, well... we were worried about you. How you've been stressed and depressed lately. You've always been so mysterious about your job, and the fact that something happened with it and you couldn't tell us what made us really worried."

Eugene gave a little sigh. He'd guessed this conversation would happen eventually. He'd just wanted to believe that his friends wouldn't ask, that he wouldn't have to try very hard to keep them away from the truth and things would just be fine. Still, he really was not in the condition to be thinking of explanations for everything. "Do we have to talk about this right now?"

Joy looked away awkwardly. "I mean, yeah. We need your help with Luke."

"Oh yeah," Eugene responded tiredly. "What did you say about him?"

Oliver responded. "He put your magic flower in his mouth and passed out."

Eugene nearly fell off the couch. "What?" His voice was high pitched. So his flower had been missing this morning... because they'd taken it. "Why'd you-- why'd you think that was a good idea? How long have you been planning this? Was Luke in on this?" He was panting. Had Luke come to visit him just to nab that flower?

"N-no!" Joy flinched. "I-I'm sorry. You're right. This is the wrong time to talk about this. But we need your help with Luke."

Luke. Had put the flower in his mouth. "Oh. Oh no." There was absolutely no way Eugene was going to be able to hide the truth anymore. Eugene sighed, grimacing as his stomach shifted uncomfortably. "Okay... okay. It's-- his ghost is out of his body. But he should be okay. Not sure why he would have left instead of finding a way to communicate with you."

Joy blinked. "You're serious. It really is ghosts."

Eugene groaned. "I didn't want to tell you. You were better off not having to worry about it! Why did you have to butt in on my secrets like this?"

Joy glared. "Hey, it's not our fault you decided to keep us out of all this. Why did you even feel the need to keep it hush hush? How would just knowing ghosts exist hurt us?"

"I mean," Oliver leaned over to Joy and whispered, "You're really fine with all this? You're not going to have an existential crisis about your worldview being shattered?"

"No!" Joy spluttered (even though she absolutely would have an existential crisis as soon as she took the time to actually think about it).

Oliver turned back to Eugene. "You're right. It's completely our fault that Luke is in a predicament right now. We shouldn't have messed with your stuff. And we're sorry." He glanced at Joy doubtfully, and she looked back defiantly before sagging, then nodding in agreement.

Eugene drooped, sinking back into the couch. "...Okay. Whatever. I guess I'll have to see if I can check on him."

Eugene braced himself, then reached into the pocket and pulled out his guardian flower again. Joy and Oliver watched as he laboriously placed it in his mouth, then let himself sink into the couch and fall asleep.

It happened fast, and Eugene sat up as a ghost as his body went limp beneath him. Eugene flinched as the pain in his chest flared up again, and he made the mistake of glancing at it before holding it with his hand and standing up again.

An F-bomb ripped through the room, and Eugene jerked to attention, looking for who had said that. His eyes found Luke, ghost-monochrome in orange, with his hands covering his mouth in horror.

"Oh," Eugene mouthed, using both hands to try to cover as much of his tattered chest as he could.

"Eugene?" Luke stepped up to him, hands hovering towards Eugene's wounds. "Are you okay?"

"Uh, I--" Eugene tried to take a step back, but he felt weak and dizzy, and Luke had to steady him to keep him from falling over.

"H... hi," Eugene mustered when he caught his breath. "Yeah, it's, um, not good."

"Yeesh, dude." Luke helped Eugene back over to the couch. "Do you need a bandage or something? Ghost bandage? Do those exist?"

"Don't think so," Eugene gasped. "It hurts, but I don't think it'll be lethal, 'cause I'm still in one piece."

Luke frowned in worry at Eugene's wound for a minute, watching dark magenta blood clot. He pulled off his shirt and moved Eugene's hands so he could hold it over his wound. "So, I was listening to the conversation you were having with Oliver and Joy. I'm fine, just can't get back to my body right now for some reason, but there are other things to worry about probably sooner."

"'Kay..." Eugene blinked blearily at Luke's hands holding the shirt to his chest.

"Yeah, so, your friend Charlie? She got attacked by this huge tall black ghost a bit ago, and we ran and hid here. The big monster ghost followed us, and when you and Joy and Oliver and Linda (that's her name, right?) opened the door it burst in."

Eugene blinked, his mind starting to register that that was really bad. And-- Oh yeah, he'd told that ghost that Charlie was here. So it was his fault. "Oh," he said. "Where's it now?"

"Yeah, so it grabbed her again and then flew away fast."

"No..." Eugene whispered, ducking his head, wanting to curl in on himself but not being able to 'cause he was bleeding all over Luke's shirt and hands for being a stupid, stupid idiot, who kept making the wrong decisions, who kept hurting the people he should've been helping. He'd told that ghost where Charlie was, then after leading it right to her had let it into the flower shop himself (or at least people with him had). And what could he even do to help her now? He was injured and useless.

"Eugene? Hey, snap out of it!" Luke tapped his shoulder insistently. "Come on, hey, we'll figure this out. She needs to be rescued, right? Is there any way we can rescue her?"

Eugene stared at the floor. Then he sighed. "I need your help."

Chapter 7

[fallingflowers0]

Boss

(5/28/2023)

[aeoni-sw]

HAHAHAHA!! *spills incorrect UwO quotes all over your food*

i edited some of them to make sense but for the most part theyre incorrect quotes

River: I’m telling you, my team is competent.

Charlie, rushing in: River! Hayden tried to make pasta in the coffee pot and now it's broken!

Luke: I wasn’t that drunk.

Eugene: You colored my face with a highlighter because you said I was important.

Luke: BECAUSE YOU ARE!

Eugene, at Charlie: You're my bitch.

Charlie: Yeah I am!

Eugene, at Lilly: You're my child.

Lilly: Yessir!

Eugene, at Boss: You're my father figure.

Boss: Yeah I am- wait, what?

Eugene, at River: My bestie.

River: Naturally.

Eugene, Cassius: HA, GAY!

Cassius: Fuck you.

Eugene: Why would you think any of this was a good idea?!

Charlie: Probably because I’m a dangerous sociopath with a long history of violence.

Eugene: Oh...

Boss, from across the room: I don’t understand how you keep forgetting that.

Sean: Yesterday, I watched Hayden try to eat a decorative rock from Joan's potted plant. Eugene caught them, and told them they can't eat rocks. Hayden started whining something about no food being in the house before walking away.

[orizukuin]

Still thinking about your blog! I'm not going anywhere dw. I'm a big fan. I felt my attachment to uwo and cue fading because I couldn't find much content before I found you. And now Im more excited about it which is great!

I was give a writing prompt in class and first the teacher told us to think of anyone we wanted- real or fictional- and I chose Charlie.

AND THEN THEY TOLD US WE WERE NOW THAT PERSON

And I just went bonkers. I would feel so bad about hurting Mike 😭 He's such a good kid. And so first thing I would do is, since I would like cutting things, cut some fabric and then figure out how to see pieces together to make a nice, comfortable eyepatch for Mike. And I would use that as an excuse to go talk and apologize for what happened (albeit somewhat awkwardly and I would probably struggle not to cry)

If you suddenly went into the game and took Charlie's role, what's the first thing you would do? Could be at any point in the game.

Hello! Thank you for the support Anon! sorry for taking so long to answer as I've been busy these past few months. I appreciate that your message somehow made me feel better. I'm glad to hear that your writing prompt in the class went well. Perhaps it is safe to say now that you're Charl!  

To answer your Question. If I suddenly went into the game and took Charlie's role, I guess the first thing I'd do is :

TO SMACK MY FATHER IN THE HEAD!

 (JK XP) okay, okay a serious answer now- haha I think if I did so then I'd try to at least somehow try to live- like rather than sticking to Charlie's introverted(?) and self-isolation.  I think I would change that by being a teenager who sneaks out the night but then starts a mental debate in my head "Why the hell did I sneak out", hacking Daddy's dearest bank card to buy myself stuffies- Making Charlie's life somewhat like a teenager that goes into places other than home because home isn't what it used before.  if we are going talk about the Mike situation- well Brooskie-poo I guess at first I'll be like Charlie in the game- but sooner will apologize to Mike regarding it. Take it in the image like we're going to have a serious talk and all and will somehow slowly open up to him. And probably for the last? I think continue living and hope for the best as I can

[ttte-tugscrowskullausmainblog]

Does Edward have biological kids or only younger engineers he mentored? Sorry for not being around that much, currently under the weather 😅

Edward has no children of his own, but has plenty of his own unofficial adopted babies. Gordon and Thomas he truly sees as his sons(they even have his last name, Thomas actually was legally adopted by Edward when he was a baby, Gordon was already an adult at the time so there was no need), the Claypit twins are a close second, Philip probably third, and others like Percy, Charlie, and Ryan, he's more of just a father/grandfather figure.

He and James do hope to have children of their own one day. UwO✨

[dragonsdomain]

Out of Office chapter 2

AO3

Chapter 1

Joy shut the door to the basement and flicked on a light, turning to look intensely at Luke and Oliver. “It’s time for the first meeting of the Eugene Protection Squad.”

“EPS?” Oliver repeated. “I feel like there are cooler acronyms we could create.”

Luke frowned at Joy. “While I’m all for protecting Eugene, I’m not sure about this plan. Spying on him? Sneaking around behind his back? We’re his friends! He trusts us!”

Joy sighed. “He doesn’t trust us enough to confide in us about what he’s going through. It’s been years. I think it’s about time we step in and find out the truth so we can really help him.”

Luke sagged. “I don’t feel good about it. But okay.” He glanced incredulously at his surroundings. "Do we have to be meeting in a basement?"

Joy rolled her eyes. "There's nothing wrong with my basement. It has beanbag chairs and everything. It's comfy."

Oliver looked between Joy and Luke. “Uh, so. What’s this meeting going to entail? What are we doing?”

“First let’s pool our knowledge of what’s going on with Eugene,” Joy said.

Luke shrunk down uncomfortably as both Joy's and Oliver's gazes turned to him. He sighed. “It’s definitely something supernatural. Back when he and I were trying to save those kids a couple of years ago, several figures appeared out of nowhere to help.”

Oliver raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean 'figures'? Were they not people?"

"I didn't get great looks at any of them since we were busy running for our life," Luke snapped. "I'm not sure."

Joy sat down on a beanbag next to Luke. "So that had something to do with Eugene's job?"

"I think so," Luke responded. "He didn't really explain much about it to me afterwards, and I never pushed since he seemed a little shaken up about it. But it was weird." Luke cringed. "I feel bad sharing this behind his back."

Oliver shrugged. "Joy, what do you know?"

Joy tapped her foot on the concrete floor absently. "I don't think I know much more than you guys. We know what little he's told us. He helps people. Works with a couple of coworkers who he sounds close with--Oh!" She perked up. "I talked to a few of the other station attendants from station 00, and it doesn't sound like they're close to him. So that's interesting."

“You went to his work and talked to his coworkers?” Luke burst in, astonished. “How long have you been spying on him?”

Joy leaned back defensively. “That was only today! If we were going to do this, I wanted to come to our meeting prepared! It’s not weird!”

“It’s a little bit weird,” Oliver conceded.

Joy glared at him.

“What?” He asked.

Joy sighed. "This is beside the point. If it's not his coworkers at station 00, who is Eugene close to?"

Oliver tilted his head. "That's a good question. Does he have another job, maybe?"

Joy tapped her chin. "Or he could've been lying about being close to his coworkers."

"Guys..." Luke said. "Are we really in here wondering if Eugene's been lying to us?"

Joy winced. "I didn't mean... obviously it wouldn't have been to trick us. I just thought that maybe it was a white lie or something, make his workplace sound more cheerful than it is."

Luke shook his head. "He's genuine about being friends with his coworkers. Back when I was first getting to know him, he told me they were the whole reason he wanted to work there in the first place."

Joy held up a hand placatingly. "Okay. Sorry. It could also be that he's misreading the situation, that his coworkers don't think of him the same way he thinks of them."

Luke frowned, feeling defensive again on Eugene's behalf, but he said nothing.

"So, what? You think his coworkers might be dangerous to him?" Oliver asked. "That's what we're here to figure out, right? Whether his job is putting him in danger?"

"Uh, uh." Joy shook her head. "We know his job is putting him in danger."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "I mean, it could've just been an earthquake. And what Luke said was years ago."

"Seems like far too much of a coincidence to me," Joy said. "And back then too, if Luke is right about the kid chase thing being related to Eugene's job, it was dangerous then also."

Oliver shrugged. "Okay then. So our real objective is to... determine why Eugene's job is dangerous?"

Joy pounded a fist into her hand. "And then stop it. Exactly."

Luke folded his arms. "It's not our place to 'put a stop' to anything. Eugene wouldn't have kept doing this job for years if there wasn't something good about it. Whatever it is, it's important to him. Maybe we should just let him be."

Joy looked at Luke incredulously. "Come on. We've been over this. We all love Eugene, we love how good and kind he is. But he can be a bit self-sacrificial at times."

Luke shrank down, breaking Joy's gaze.

"Joy is right," Oliver added. "As his friends, it's our responsibility to make sure he isn't in over his head. We need to look out for him. If we don't, who will?"

"I get it," Luke said, defeated. "I'm sorry. I'll help."

Joy smiled appreciatively. Luke was looking down at his lap.

Oliver shifted in his seat, the beans making a shh sound. "I don't really know much either. He's always been closer to you, Luke, than me or Joy. I mean basically all I've got are some slips of the tongue he's made. Don't know if they're important or even if they mean anything at all. I think he's almost said something like 'ghost' a couple of times. But what I heard was jus--"

Joy snapped her fingers. "'Ghosts'! I've heard him almost say that too!"

"So now will you guys take seriously what I mentioned before about the weirdness in that chase?" Luke asked.

Joy sat up straight. "What? It can't actually be ghosts. They're not real. This is just a possible piece of the puzzle."

Luke raised an eyebrow.

Oliver shrugged. "I mean, if he was working with ghosts, it'd explain why the friends he talks about aren't his human coworkers."

Joy laughed nervously. "Are you hearing yourself right now?"

"The first full conversation I had with Eugene was in a dream..." Luke said absently. "And he remembered the same dream the next day. I'd kind of... always wondered how that happened. If it was ghosts..."

"Wait, can we go back to the part where you met Eugene in a dream?" Oliver interjected. "You didn't feel the need to mention that earlier?"

Luke shook his head. "It's not important. I think I already know what we need to do."

"Really?" Joy said, leaning forward.

Luke nodded. "Eugene has a particular flower he always carries with him in his shirt pocket. A couple of times I've come to the station to see him, and his coworkers have told me he's taking a nap. I find him with the flower in his mouth, and he doesn't wake up, whatever I do."

Joy stared at him. "That is weird."

"So we're going to steal the flower?" Oliver asked.

Luke sagged. "I hope it won't come to that. But yeah, we've got to get our hands on it somehow."

"It could be an important piece of this puzzle," Joy said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Even if we can't figure out what it's for just by having it, we could try to see if Eugene's behavior changes at all without it." She sat up straighter. "Great work, team EPS. We've got our next step figured out."

"I still think we could come up with a cooler acronym," Oliver said.

...

Eugene flew though the darkened town after dark, floating into the subway and eventually arriving back among the wreckage of Station 00. He'd come here almost every day over the last few years. It had felt more like home than his actual apartment, though now it lay in ruins, rubble and glass everywhere with caution tape that he ignored. Though it was a transformed place, it felt good to be back there with a purpose, almost like he was back with the Underworld Office again.

Eugene stepped towards the lost and found closet, opened the door, and picked up Boss's fan. It was bent from how roughly River had broken out of it a few days ago (it had only been that long? It felt like weeks, months), but Eugene could still feel the power within it. How many evil... or suffering spirits were trapped within it?

He bit his lip and thought of Finley and Tatum. Their mom was still in here, wasn't she? How fair was it that he and Boss had kept her there, trapped, for... years? She'd been a good mother for her children. She'd only wanted to protect them. Eugene had objected at the beginning to her being sealed, but... he'd let it happen. Eugene took a deep breath, set his jaw, then pulled the fan open carefully to prevent damage to the paper.

A gasp escaped Eugene's throat as he felt the power emanating from within. He stumbled back a little at the shock of it. He heard churning voices, calling, corrupted noises of pain and writhing within. He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself, but it did little as a ghost.

He gritted his teeth, trying to steel himself. He'd rarely used ghostly keepsakes before, and the power of this one seemed overwhelming. Was it really a good idea to try this?

He looked at the fan, eyes watering. Moans came out of it. So much pain... Finley and Tatum's mother was inside of there, and he knew she was innocent.

Eugene gasped, held his breath, and thrust his hand into the fan.

He let out a yell as the screams seemed to claw at his hand physically within the fan. Fingers brushed his hand all over, each carrying with it a thousand flavors of emotional agony.

He gasped, feeling like his whole soul was drowning, unsure if it really was only his hand in the fan or if all of him was inside. "Susan..." he coughed, reaching out.

Something cold grabbed onto his hand, and he screamed, trying to pull it out. The thing came with him, sliding out of the fan in a cascade of dark reddish slime. Eugene dropped the fan, scrambling away from the figure on the ground.

Eugene watched with wide eyes, desperately trying to regain control of his breathing. He was okay. The screaming was over. He checked himself for a pulse and had a brief moment of panic at its absence before remembering he was a ghost.

The pile of slime moved, pulling itself together. The familiar shape of Susan's ghost raised its head, white teary eyes looking at Eugene. "My babies..."

"Susan..." Eugene said. "It's been... a while." He pursed his lips, wondering how she would react to the sight of him.

Susan leaned towards him. "My babies," she repeated more insistantly.

"They're okay!" Eugene said, standing up. "They're safe."

She started sobbing. Her slimy form shook with the effort. She shifted closer to Eugene, and he resisted the urge to pull back, feeling her pain radiating off of her. "Where. Show me."

Eugene gulped. Would bringing a monster to Finley and Tatum be a good idea? It was nighttime, so Susan would be more powerful. He'd picked the wrong time to let loose an evil spirit, hadn't he? And she'd been in the fan for a long time, so he didn't know how stable she was. Eugene couldn't stop her if she decided to try something.

He bit his lip. He had to. It wasn't fair to leave her like this. "Okay. Follow me." Eugene quietly walked over, picked up the fan, then flew through the ceiling to the surface, checking behind himself to make sure the spirit was following.

Eugene flew down the street, leading Susan through the shadows towards Linda's flower shop. After the kids' father had been arrested, Linda had adopted them. Susan followed behind Eugene, leaving a couple who were out late shivering as her tendrils of slime brushed against them.

They reached the flower shop. The bit of River's hair was still tied around the door to prevent ghosts from going through, so Eugene tugged the door slightly open to allow himself and Susan to slip in. Sean had left it unlocked after Eugene left.

The two of them flew up to the second floor and, after a moment of hesitation, Eugene directed Susan towards the kids' room. The slipped through the door, and Susan's breath caught on the other side.

"M-my babies...?" Susan moved to the bed to the left and looked down at Finley. Finley shivered in her sleep. Susan glided over to Tatum. "You're both so big, you look so healthy... Mommy is proud, mommy loves you."

Susan placed a hand on Tatum's shoulder, but he jolted, his eyes fluttering open. He sat up and looked around confusedly. Susan drew her hand away as Tatum looked through her apprehensively, unseeing. "I can't touch them? I hurt them?"

Eugene stepped up to her cautiously. "Ghosts should try to keep some distance from humans so we don't drain their energy."

Susan looked back at Eugene. "You... you! You're bigger too..."

Eugene flinched back, worried by the abruptness in her tone. "M-me...?"

Susan drew close. "You tried to help me kill that man..."

Eugene shrunk down, chills running up his back. "I don't... did I? I didn't mean..." He tried not to envision the recurring nightmare he'd had about helping the monstrous Charlie finish the job.

"Where is he?" Susan asked.

Eugene froze. The man was alive, but in prison. But Susan had wanted him dead. If he told her the truth, she might try to kill him, and Eugene might not be able to stop her.

He could lie... but the thought made him sick. Boss' words about how truth was not always best came to mind. He'd thought it was better to deceive Eugene, River, Hayden, and Joan, and he'd hurt all of them because of it. Eugene... didn't want to be like him.

Susan put a cold hand on Eugene's shoulder, and he shivered from the rage he could feel bolt up his arm. "Where?" she repeated.

Eugene gulped. "He's in prison."

Susan let go of Eugene and drew back. She held still for a minute, looking calm. Would it be okay? Was she content with him being in prison?

But then Susan shot down and out the front door.

Eugene flew after her, shutting the door again and silently apologizing to Finley and Tatum. Eugene pursued Susan, calling out to her. "Wait! Stop! What are you doing?"

She grabbed him in the muddy tendrils of her clothing and Eugene yelled in surprise as she dragged him along with her.

"To KILL HIM," Susan said.

Eugene grabbed her arm. "Please don't. He's not a threat anymore."

"Was I a THREAT?" Susan pulled to a stop, pulling Eugene up close to her face. "Was I a threat when he KILLED ME?"

"N-no..." he could feel the power in her arm, how easily she could crush his soul.

"Were my children a THREAT?" Susan cried, tearing up. "When he LOCKED them UP? When he let them STARVE??"

What did that matter though? What use was Eugene if he couldn't do anything good? Eugene gritted his teeth. "Is it right?"

Susan paused. "What?"

"Is killing him... right? The right thing to do?" Eugene winced as Susan's hand tightened around him.

"Who cares?" Eugene's eyes widened. "It is my revenge. It is what he DESERVES."

"You don't care whether it's right...?" Eugene said softly. He slumped. But she wanted to do it anyway. Like River.  She wanted justice... even if it meant she did something wrong. Eugene had promised River he'd support her in what she did before she left.

"Those years ago you said this was just revenge," Susan said. "Are you taking back what you said? Were you wrong?"

Eugene felt torn. This was so similar to what he'd promised River. But... his dream. His recurring dream of murdering that man, of turning into a monster because of it. That was wrong.

Eugene shook his head. "Killing him will hurt you," he said. "Even if it doesn't matter whether it's right or wrong. You won't be able to come back from it."

Susan snarled. "Then you don't have to watch." She dropped Eugene and bolted away, towards the prison.

"NO!" Eugene flew after her. He went as fast as he could, but he couldn't fly as fast as a full ghost. He slowed down after a minute, tired, but kept flying again at full speed after only a few seconds. "Susan, stop!"

By the time Eugene reached the prison, he could see a trail of Susan's pain streaked across the windows and doors of the prison. He zipped in the nearest window. He had to catch her before she found Jack.

After a few minutes of frantic searching, Eugene spotted Susan on the ground floor. He rushed up to her. "Please, please don't! Leave him! It's over, Finley and Tatum are safe!"

Susan shoved Eugene roughly out of the way and kept searching.

"Susan! You're better than him! Stop!"

Susan kept ignoring him. She stopped at one cell and a manic smile stretched across her face. Eugene felt a chill of horror.

"Found you," she said.

Sharp fragments of cloth shot out towards Jack, but Eugene bolted forward, blocking them with his body. The tendrils slammed into him and pain shot through him as he was flung across the cell.

Eugene gasped. It hurt, oh wow it hurt. Eugene managed to prop himself onto his elbow.

Susan looked at him in astonishment. "N-no! That was your fault! I didn't kill you!"

"Kill--?" Eugene whispered, then looked down at himself. What he saw made him feel sick to his stomach. A fragment of his soul had broken off and was hovering beside him, fibers holding weakly onto it. The hole was big enough to put his hand through. That was why it hurt.

Eugene tried to hold his soul together, still fighting against the pain. "Su... please..." He closed his eyes, hoping he could hear his weak voice. "What'd Tatum and Finley... think...?"

Eugene sat there panting for a minute. His soul had never been hurt this badly before. Oh, this was bad... He didn't want to do this again. Would it stop hurting if he could make it back to his body?

"Ugh..." Susan hovered nearby, her essence hovering threateningly around Jack. "UGH! Y-you! They are children! They don't need to know. Will you tell them? Are you GOING TO TELL THEM?"

Eugene whimpered as he felt Susan's presence draw close to him. "Don't tell themmmm."

"I won't..." Eugene cried, still holding onto his side.

Susan turned around.

"No..." Eugene whispered. He laborously reached for his pocket as Susan moved towards Jack again. Eugene pulled the fan open, set it on the ground, then grabbed the hem of Susan's skirt.

Her eyes bulged. "NO!" She screamed, clawing at Eugene's arm, and he screamed in pain in turn. He held onto her as tears came to his eyes and shoved down, thrusting her back into the fan. It sucked her in, and Eugene faded from consciousness as her wails were absorbed once again by the paper fan.

...

The sun had risen, recently, and the morning air was chilly. Birds were chirping merrily, and Charlie thought that, if she were still alive and sleep mattered, she'd be annoyed at them for being loud so soon after dawn.

If Charlie was so independant, then why was she hanging out here outside of Eugene’s apartment? She kicked a rock, and it bounced off the wall. Eugene hadn’t been going to work lately ‘cause of the station getting smashed, but he could stand to do more ghost stuff, couldn’t he? Was he depressed or something?

Charlie sighed, then sat down on a bench. A couple of humans drifted by, none noticing her. None caring. None knowing anything about her. She curled into herself. She didn’t want to think about that. A bird landed near her blindly, but she whacked her scissors against the bench with a ding that sent it flitting away. She slipped behind the bench, then started cutting up leaves from the ground.

Chills arced up her back, and she startled. A sudden drop in temperature. Charlie stood, looking around herself for the threat. She saw oblivious humans, a cat on the other side of the bench.

“Boss?” She whispered. “Eugene? River?” She winced, feeling stupid. River was gone. Hopefully no one had heard that.

There it was. A shadow on the ground. Just as Charlie spotted it, it zipped off into an alleyway.

“Hey!” She glared. Then she sighed. What, was she going to not follow it? She dashed after it.

The thing slid along the ground, darting between patches of shadow. Charlie had heard about the daylight making ghosts weaker, but personally she could hardly feel it.

The thing kept sliding until it reached a chain link fence.

“I have you cornered,” Charlie said, snapping her scissors. “Now show what you really are!”

The shadow slid under the fence.

“HEY!” Charlie dashed after it. She slipped through the fence easily, but her scissors hit the metal and flew out of her hand. Grumbling swear words, Charlie rushed back over to grab them from the ground, tossed them over the fence, then ran over to grab them from the other side as the shadow continued away.

Now they were going through some trash alley place. Ah, if her father could see her now… n-no, don’t think about him. Charlie ran after the shadow.

The thing stopped in the middle of the path, and Charlie paused a few feet away, confused. Why wasn’t it fleeing again?

ChArlie… it hissed. Charlie took a step back. The voice was warped, but there was something familiar about it.

“W-who are you?” Charlie held her scissors protectively in front of herself.

It rose up. Large, cold white eyes opened, tugging her soul towards their void. Large, cruel hands, thick fingers made for crushing, took shape. Charlie froze. "N-no--"

"Charlie," her father's ghost said, legs solidifying. "You're not going to try to run away again, are you?"

Charlie ran.

She bolted towards the opposite end of the alley, glad to see light at the other end unfiltered through a chain-link fence. She wanted to glance over her shoulder to see where her persuer was, but she didn't want to slow down to do so.

Charlie burst out onto the daylit street, sharply turning to the left. If she'd been human, she'd feel her muscles burning now, but as it was, there was nothing to distract her from the unfiltered terror coursing through her body.

She finally found herself in front of Eugene's apartment complex, stopping only long enough to shove her scissors through the old-fashioned mail slot before phasing in, grabbing them, and jumping straight up through the ceiling to Eugene's bedroom.

"Eugene! Eugene!" Charlie grabbed at Eugene's clothes in an attempt to shake him. It took a second before she could concentrate enough to touch them, and even then when she tugged and pushed, he still didn't respond.

She whacked him in the shoulder with the head of her scissors.

Eugene gave a labored groan in his sleep, but didn't move. Was he breathing kind of heavy?

Charlie gritted her teeth as she glanced about the room for anything she could use. Was there anything that'd have any effect on a ghost? Was there anything but ghostly artifacts that one could use to fight a ghost? She could sure have used an infodump about all this just about several days ago!

She glanced out the window to see how close her pursuer was. She didn't see him. Her eyes held the corner where she'd turned, watching for any sign of movement.

Charlie only looked away when her eyes started watering for not blinking for so long. She noticed how tense she felt. Had her father's ghost not followed her?

After a minute, Charlie was starting to calm down. She took one more glance out the window...

Just as a long black hand became visible around the corner.

Charlie choked and whipped her head back. She pulled Eugene's curtains shut, then curled up down below the window, shaking. Had he seen her? Please let him not have seen her.

Charlie wouldn't be safe here. If her father's ghost could sense ghostly auras, he'd locate her within minutes, especially with all her fear. The walls were a little comforting, but Charlie jolted as she reminded herself they wouldn't matter to a ghost. She had to go.

Standing and darting towards the opposite wall, Charlie fired a glare at Eugene (though she felt more disappointed than angry). "Of course you don't protect me the one time I need you."

Charlie popped open the window on the other side of the room and jumped out, darting out amongst the sea of buildings.

...

Chapter 3

[dragonsdomain]

Out of Office, chapter 7

AO3

Chapter 6

"Who's gonna be the one to explain to Linda why all three of her guests are now senseless on the couch?" Oliver asked.

He and Joy were now standing as spirits several feet from each of their bodies. While Oliver was glad to see that Luke was okay(ish), and the colors were fun (Joy was a pretty shade of blue, and Oliver was green), things were happening fast, and there were a lot of parts of the situation that still needed to be worried about.

"Please don't tell her the truth about it all," Sean asked, blowing on his fingers after making two extra guardian flowers in a row. "It was hard for her to find closure after I died, and I don't want her having to worry about me still being around."

Joy raised an eyebrow. "No wonder you and Eugene are friends... uh, fine. Okay. We'll come up with a lie of some kind. Eugene might have to be the one to tell her though. Eugene? Do you think you could tell her we had a long day or something and were super tired?"

Eugene was curled up on the couch, half in his body. "Uhuh," he wheezed, struggling to keep his eyes open.

Oliver turned back to Luke. "Okay, so. Evil ghost monster kidnapped a ghost friend and now we have to go save her."

"Because if we don't, Eugene will try to, which in his current state would be really dumb and end badly," Joy added.

Eugene grumbled something from the couch.

"You can't just go after that thing unarmed," Sean said nervously. "Eugene, did you happen to bring any of the Office's ghost artifacts?"

Eugene wordlessly dug in his pockets and pulled out a black fan, a lock of dark hair looped in a knot, and a cloth hat of some kind.

Sean floated over and took them from him. "Thanks, Eugene. We'll be sure to keep them safe. You can sleep now, if you want."

Eugene glared and stubbornly kept sitting upright.

"What are those?" Luke asked, walking over.

"Some ghosts (usually strong ones) have items from their life that gain power after they die. They can do a number of things," Sean explained. "This fan can seal hostile ghosts in it and also be used as a weapon in a pinch. The hair can be used to trap and entangle ghosts, or fling them, if you want. This hat lets you talk to cats. Not sure how useful that'll be, but we have it."

Oliver blinked. "Wait... what about a crucifix? A crucifix with the power to ward ghosts?"

Sean tilted his head. "I mean, I guess that's an example of an artifact somebody could have."

Oliver put his hands out. "You guys. My grandmother's crucifix. She loved that thing. Luke got yeeted out of his body by my grandmother's magic ghost-warding crucifix."

"Oh yeah," Joy said, pressing her lips together. "That, or any number of the other anti-ghost things you brought."

"Oh, uh, oops." Oliver smiled apologetically at Luke.

Luke waved his comment off. "It's fine, you didn't know. Could that crucifix maybe be useful for fighting the monster, though?"

"Er, seems like it would be a problem that we can't get to it in ghost form," Oliver said. "And then in human form we wouldn't be able to see the monster."

"Good point," Joy said.

Luke took the fan. "So the plan is to seal the ghost in here at the end?"

Joy took the lock of hair. "But first we have to weaken it and make sure we get Charlie out of there safely."

Oliver took the hat. "...With cats?"

Sean shrugged. "I guess? Joan's gun probably would've been more useful." Oliver whispered ghost gun under his breath as Sean turned to Eugene and asked, "Eugene? You didn't happen to bring Joan's cane too, did you?"

Eugene blinked, looking barely awake. "Uh... no, it didn't feel right with her in it."

"Oh, okay," Sean said. Why is she in the ghost gun Oliver whispered under his breath, and no one deigned to answer.

The four of them started heading towards the staircase down to the front door. Eugene started to push himself up to follow them, but Sean gently pushed him back down.

The four of them walked to the front door, and Luke tentatively pushed it open. "Oh, huh. Somehow I thought the ghost we're chasing would be easy to see from here?"

"Drat. How are we supposed to find it now?" Joy grimaced.

Oliver grinned, pulling the hat onto his head. "Cats."

...

Charlie's house was old and creaky, full of dust, like no one had lived in it for a long time. Her father's ancestors had lived in this house for generations, and with each of them that died inside of it, more of the house died as well.

Quite a few pieces of Charlie had died here too. She remembered the day her father had torn up her first paper doll because he'd caught her playing with it instead of studying for a test. She remembered the day her cat had gone missing, and the day a week later when she'd found its body rotting in a shallow grave with a gunshot wound in its side. She didn't remember the first day she saw her father hitting her mother, but she remembered the first day he'd hit her.

She vaguely remembered a time when she'd been young and hopeful. When she had rose-tinted dreams for the future. When she'd been happy. But those parts of herself had died, and their unreachable memory haunted the manor along with all the other ghosts.

There were many rooms in the house, but the older Charlie got, the fewer of them she ever went in, until in her last year she only traveled through the few that lead in a direct path from her bedroom, to the kitchen, to the front door.

Now she was in her bedroom again, wondering why she'd killed her father.

She knew why, of course. She'd... resented him for a while. "Hated him", she would've said, but somehow that didn't quite fit, even though she felt like she ought to hate him, deserved to. If she truly hated him, Would she have felt so guilty for having killed him? But now she felt ashamed. Her hands were covered in blood; it wasn’t wet anymore, but she couldn’t wash it off. It would be with her forever.

However long her route through the house usually was, it was now very short. She was grounded, never to leave the house, never to leave her room.

She was so alone, but it was what she deserved.

“Charlie?” a voice called, and she flinched before realizing it wasn’t her father’s voice. Not her mother’s either.

Charlie looked up toward her bedroom window (no light came through it). Mike was there, peeking in at her. “Could you let me in?” he asked, tapping the glass.

Charlie hesitated, not wanting to involve him, but eventually decided to go ahead and listen to him for once. She stood from her bed, then reached up and unlatched the window.

Mike pushed it open and climbed inside the room with her. He grinned. “It’s really you! It’s great to see you again, finally.”

Charlie felt confused for a minute. Somehow she felt like they hadn’t seen each other for years, but he hadn’t aged. He looked exactly the same as when she’d last seen him. Except…

“What are you doing here?” Mike asked, walking around. “Is this your bedroom? From when we were kids?”

“I’m grounded,” Charlie said.

“I thought your dad was… um… not around anymore?”

“He came back to haunt me,” Charlie said blankly, dropping back down onto her bed. “To make me face what I did. To give me what I deserve.”

“What did you do?” Mike said, sitting down beside her.

Charlie’s head sunk. “You know what I did.”

“No, I don’t. Are you talking about this?”

Charlie looked up, and Mike was pointing at the scar over his eye.

She glared at him, tearing up. “Of course, I should’ve known. Are you here to haunt me too?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not. I’m not mad. Well, I might’ve been, a little, when it first happened. But it’s been years. I’ve moved on. You should too.”

Mike was older than Charlie was. He’d kept on growing while she stayed the same. He looked like he might be somewhere in his twenties now, and the gash over his eye was long-scarred over, fully healed. But she was still in her worst year of high school, wearing her rumpled uniform with dotted with unwashed blood.

Charlie let her head drop. “You’re an idiot. I can’t move on. I can’t forget it. I can’t ignore it. I can’t keep it secret. I tried to move on and be better, but I can’t stop messing up and hurting people. Eugene’s ghost friends are all gone ‘cause I couldn’t keep my stupid mouth shut, ‘cause I couldn’t stick my nose where it doesn’t belong. And my past has caught up to me too, ‘cause it knows I don’t deserve to have people around me who don’t know what I did.”

“Oh, come on.” Mike folded his arms. “If running away from it is such a bad idea, then say it out loud. What did you do?”

Charlie snapped at him. “I murdered my father!”

Mike flinched, but he didn’t look surprised. “Yeah. That’s it.”

Charlie sagged. “Why’d you make me say it?”

“Why’d you do it?” Mike countered.

Charlie glared at him, then looked back down. “I was angry. And… scared.”

Mike nodded. “Yeah. Okay. That checks out. So do you regret it?”

The room was silent for a minute. “I don’t know,” Charlie responded.

“I think you do,” Mike said, “if it’s been a decade, and you’re still beating yourself up over it.”

“So that’s it then,” Charlie said, resigned. “I deserve this. I am a monster.”

“Ugh, no you don’t. That’s not what I was saying.” He gave her shoulder a little shake. “Look up at me, Charlie-Charlie.”

She did.

“Yeah, he did a bad thing. A really bad thing. But you were, what? Sixteen? Seventeen? Teens mess up sometimes. I sure know I did, though thankfully not so bad anyone’s dead about it. And also I know you were having a rough home life, and it was kind of obvious you had some mental health issues. Yeah, you messed up, but you wouldn’t do it again. I’ve moved on, your dad’s moved on, so should you.”

Charlie looked up at him incredulously. “My dad hasn’t moved on. Don’t you know where we are?”

“No? Oh wait.” Mike blinked as the gears turned in his head. “Oh, was that big lanky ghost thing your dad? I thought it was you, or, some manifestation of your self-hatred, I guess?” He grinned sheepishly. “I’m honestly a little confused. No one really explained to me what’s going on.”

Charlie stared at him. “Are you the real Mike?”

“Yeah…?”

Charlie dropped her head into her hands, muttering a muffled swear. “I can’t believe I said all that stuff to you. I thought I was just having a heart-to-heart with a dream Mike, from my subconscious or something.”

Mike cackled at her, and she wanted to punch him (affectionately). “That’s so dramatic!”

Charlie glared at him. “Well how did you get here?” she snapped, like she was accusing him of something.

“Well okay, so get this.” Mike splayed his hands out like he was ready to drop a bombshell piece of gossip. “Couple days ago I had this dream where a tall asian-looking dude told me to find ‘Eugene’ at Station 00 and he’d help me talk to you. And I thought, yo, that’s so specific, and I could remember it super clearly when I woke up. So I went and did it, ‘cause I thought it would be funny if something cool actually was there, and also it was a good excuse to go exploring. But there was a guy named Eugene there! Crazy!”

“Ah. Okay then.” Charlie didn’t know how to feel about Boss still messing around near them. Eugene might be happy to hear that? Or not?

“No there’s more. I had another dream today! I mean, it wasn’t really a dream ‘cause it kind of just happened while I was walking along, super weird, I kind of thought I was hallucinating. Maybe I was. I sure hope I’m not crazy. But anyway he told me to go over here, so I did.” Mike stared off into the distance for a second, like he was finally realizing how insane he sounded. “Please believe me.”

“Hey no, I believe you. I know the guy. Weirdo.”

“Okay. Cool.” Mike stood up. “So we’re in your dad’s ghost’s nightmare dimension or something? We should probably get out. Forget what I said about him moving on. Because I still think you should move on. And him too. Talk about holding a grudge. So! Let’s go.”

“I’m grounded,” Charlie said dismally.

“Oh, come on! Now you start listening to your dad?” Mike pumped a fist. “The only one grounding you is yourself!”

Mike grabbed Charlie’s arm and pulled her towards the door. “Come on!”

“Ack! My dad’ll catch us! Can't we just climb out the window?"

“The window actually doesn't lead outside, just to another room of the house, for some reason. We’ll be sneaky! We just need to get out of your house and we’re home free! Probably. I still don’t know how ghost things work.”

Charlie winced. "Okay. We'll try. But if he catches us, you run. I don't want to see you hurt."

...

When they found the ghost monster that'd made off with Charlie, it was hunched over against a wall, like it was meditating. Charlie was not in sight.

"It's sleeping?" Oliver asked. "Do we just suck it up into the fan now?"

Sean waved his hands anxiously. "Wait, no, I don't think that's a good idea. It ran off with Charlie, right? It might have her in its dream."

"Dream?" Luke asked.

"Yeah. Ghosts can go into people's dreams. Or memories. Either way, we can't contain that ghost until we've gotten Charlie safely out." Sean chuckled nervously. "Or, until you guys've gotten her out. I don't know how much help I'd be."

Joy cringed. "We really don't know what we're getting into, and I'm thinking we might need all the help we can get. Plus, the three of us don't know what we're doing. Come with us. Please?"

Sean sagged. "Okay, okay. I'll come."

...

Charlie and Mike rounded another corner, and Charlie felt a growing knot in her stomach tighten. "Something's wrong. I don't remember this many hallways existing before," she whispered.

"Oh, okay. Uhh, maybe we should just keep wandering, hope we find the way out?" Mike whispered back.

"I don't like this," Charlie said. "This is his dream. We'll probably take way longer to find an exit than he'll take to find us."

"Well, if he finds us we run." Mike shrugged. "Simple as that."

"And we'll split up," Charlie said, narrowing her eyes. "So he chases me, not you."

"Sure, sure. I'll run... somewhere. Whatever."

"Ugh, you." Charlie scoffed.

They rounded a corner and found themselves in the dining room. Despite it being next to the kitchen, Charlie hardly ever ate there. The paintings she vaguely remembered being hung on the walls were gone, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

"I wonder if there's some kind of clue as to where we should go?" Mike muttered.

Charlie walked around the table, looking at the different doorways they could take. The kitchen she knew was not through any of them. She paused for a second to shake some kind of debris from the carpet off of her foot.

Wait.

Charlie looked down and saw that that debris... was paper. Shreds of colored paper, intricately patterned. She recognized them as being the remains of paper dolls, though couldn't identify which ones. She could see on each shred of paper the clean and deliberate edge where she cut with her scissors, as well as the ragged edges where the dolls were torn apart.

"Mike," she whispered. "Come over here."

Mike came over, and Charlie pointed out the paper. "It's a trail. It leads this way."

"Those remind me of the paper dolls I used to see you making in class. Is that a good sign? Should we follow it?"

Charlie frowned. "It might also be a trail of destruction left by my father's ghost."

"It's our only lead, but... what do you think?"

"I want to follow it," Charlie said with a conviction that surprised her. "Wherever it leads, I want to get there. I want to reach an end."

"Well! That was a really ominous way of saying that. But okay," Mike nodded. "Let's follow the trail."

The two of them headed off, following the trail of shredded paper. Charlie kept her gaze pointing down at the trail as they passed through halls that looked almost the same, rooms that each seemed like several rooms Charlie remembered, yet also neither and none, all missing paintings on the walls, or else housing empty frames, which were equally disconcerting. Charlie started to wonder if the trail had really started in the dining room, or if she'd missed something, and that maybe they were following the trail the wrong way.

The trail came to an end just before a door Charlie knew all too well. The only one besides her bedroom door which she and Mike had found closed. The door to her father's study.

"Why'd we stop?" Mike whispered.

Charlie's hand moved forward, driven by something akin to curiosity, to purpose, laced with dread. She gripped the handle and turned the door. It slowly swung open with a creak that grew louder as it opened wider, before the door finally dropped softly off of its hinges.

The body in the middle of the floor looked old, as did the rest of the room. It was nothing but a skeleton, all its flesh having worn off, with no memory of it but the strange stains weighing down the crusty clothes hanging over that figure. A large splotch of the rug below it was stained a dull brown.

"Charlie?" Mike asked. "What are you looking at?"

Charlie blinked, and the illusion was gone. She was still holding the door handle, unopened.

She let go of the handle and stepped back. "I can't do it."

"I'll get it," Mike said. He took the handle and pulled the door open.

The office was empty. And behind Charlie's father's imposing desk, letting in a stream of cold moonlight, was a large window.

"An escape!" Mike cried, rushing towards the window to undo the latch and pull it open. Cold air puffed into the room. "Charlie-Charlie, come on!"

"Coming, coming," she said, taking one last glance over her shoulder.

Then she froze.

The door had swung closed behind her, and on the back of it was hung a portrait of her father.

"Trying to run away again, Charlie?" the picture said.

Charlie whirled around and vaulted out the window, landing in a run through the snowy ground.

Mike broke into a run beside her. "What's wrong?"

"My father! He's there!"

She took a glance over her shoulder and saw him slowly walking towards her, but gaining on her as though she wasn't moving at all. He looked just as he had been when he was alive, yet as horrible as when he was dead.

Mike slid to a stop and started pitching snowballs at him. "Take that! Ha! Leave her alone!"

Charlie whirled around. "Mike, no!"

Charlie's father came up to Mike, and his hand snapped out, gripping Mike's neck. Mike scrabbled uselessly at the man's hand as he picked him up like he weighed nothing.

"Let him go!" Charlie screamed, swinging a punch at her father's face.

But her scissors were in her hand.

She froze in terror, blade held inches from her father's face, as images of what she'd done to Mike flashed through her head.

Her father chuckled, making no move to stop her. "So you still want to kill me, do you? Well I'll never be dead. I'll haunt you forever. You think you hate me? Imagine how much I hate you. You horrible girl, you ruined everything. Kill me again and see if it makes you feel better! You'll never be free."

Charlie let loose a rage-filled scream and brought her scissors stabbing down on the arm holding onto Mike's neck.

Charlie's father let out a surprised gasp, letting Mike drop to the ground. Mike tried to lunge toward Charlie's father, but Charlie grabbed him and shoved him away. "I told you to RUN!"

Charlie's father slammed into her from the side, shoving her to the ground. Her face was pushed against the snow, and she inhaled it when she tried to breathe and started coughing.

She struggled against her father, but it was like trying to wrestle the sand. She couldn't budge him. He shoved her face down into the snow again and she tried to stay calm and hold her breath. She heard Mike yell and try to shove her father off of her, but she heard him get thrown aside with a deep thud into the snow.

"Got you!" Someone yelled, and Charlie felt the weight on her lift, then be abruptly yanked off of her to the side.

She shoved up off of the ground and gulped in oxygen, then searched around for Mike. He was there, just a few feet away, also pushing up from the snow. He looked dazed, but unhurt.

Charlie looked back towards her saviors and saw Eugene's friends, along with Sean. Joy was roughly slamming Charlie's father up and down onto the snow by the ends of what looked like River's hair. After a minute he lay still on the ground, Luke pulled out Boss' fan, snapped it open, and Charlie's father was sucked in.

Charlie sagged, dropping to the snow in exhaustion, as the cold world faded around her to be replaced with real life. That was it. She was so tired...

...

It was a few days later, and Eugene and Luke, Joy, and Oliver were working together to sweep up broken glass from the office at Station 00. Eugene's station boss had called him out to help with it (Eugene was grateful for any number of work hours after sudden week of unpaid vacation), and his three friends had volunteered to come along and help, to make sure he didn't push himself too hard while still recovering from his ghostly injuries.

Luke picked up a large piece of glass and threw it into a bin. "Did Charlie tell you about how the ghost that kidnapped her was her father, who she'd killed as a teen?"

"Yeah," Eugene said. He was taking a breather at the moment, sitting on a beat-up chair. "Though I already knew beforehand."

"That's messed up," Oliver said, shaking his head as he swept.

"Yeah, it is," Eugene said, resting his chin on his knee. "I'm tired of trying to be hard on people for bad things they've done though. She regrets it, she's doing better. That's enough for me. Turns out a lot of people are less perfect than you'd hope they'd be."

Joy rested her chin on her broom to give Eugene a pointed look. "Does that include not being hard on yourself?"

Eugene sighed. "Yes, I'm sorry. I know I was stupid, I shouldn't have been trying to do everything on my own."

"We can help if you need us," Luke said. "We might not work at the station with you, but now that we're in on your secret, we can help out with ghost stuff."

Eugene frowned. "I'm still kind of peeved you guys went behind my back about that."

Joy put her hands up. "I get it! I'm sorry! I won't do it anymore, I've learned my lesson. Yes. It's my fault, that was invasive and not okay and we should've just talked to you." She rolled her eyes.

Eugene had the feeling she didn't completely regret it, but he was going to let it go. "I appreciate this."

"No problem," said Oliver. "I'm an expert at cleanup stuff."

"I mean..." Eugene looked down sheepishly. "Thanks for. Making sure I didn't get myself killed. For being my friends. And... sticking with me even if it's weird and I wasn't great at being open with you."

Luke walked over and threw a hand around Eugene's shoulders. "Dude, it's cool. Generally speaking, you have a right to your secrets, so long as they're not hurting you. But like you said, nobody's perfect. We still love you."

Eugene smiled, giving Luke a hug back. "Thanks."

...

Charlie stared at the headstone. Her full name was written out on it, her birth date, and the date of her death. A small note about her being a daughter and a friend.

She turned to look at Mike, who was hovering beside her in ghost form. "How did you know I didn't know where my gravestone was?"

Mike chuckled. "I didn't, not really. But I wanted to make sure you knew that you weren't forgotten. I visit it sometimes, like on your birthday. Your mom does too, by the way. She's still around, and she remembers you fondly."

"Wow," Charlie said disbelievingly. "Don't know how she manages that."

Mike punched her in the arm. "C'mon Charlie-Charlie, you gotta stop getting down on yourself."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Easier said than done." She knelt down beside the tombstone. "It's kind of plain... not sure what I really expected. I didn't think too much about what it might be like. I think I kind of assumed there just wasn't one."

"It's been there this whole time," Mike said softly. "Well... at least you know about it now."

Charlie stood up again and looked at Mike. "Uh..." She rubbed her arm awkwardly. She wasn't sure how to end the interaction. "Thanks. I guess. This was cool of you. Sorry everybody was out of office and it was so hard for you to find me."

"It really wasn't that bad," Mike said. "I'm glad I was here to help when, uh... all that stuff went down."

Charlie slapped her forehead. "I'm so embarrassed."

Mike shrugged, looking amused. "Eh. We all have our cringe moments. You make fun of me for tripping on my shoelaces that one time, I can make fun of you for..." Charlie gave him a death glare, "...actually I'll probably just try not to bring this up."

Charlie looked away. "Well. Nice seeing you again. I guess this is goodbye."

"Well, I mean, it doesn't have to be. I only live like thirty minutes away," Mike said, thumb-pointing vaguely behind himself.

Charlie stared at him.

"What?" Mike asked. "You don't want to be friends with me anymore?"

"No! I mean, I do!" Charlie sighed. "I can't believe this is happening. Don't you want to move on from me? I'm dead."

"Er." Mike held up his hands helplessly. "I mean, from what I understand, you'll only be gone-gone for real once you get over all your angst and pass onto the next life, right? So we can totally still be friends until then."

Charlie looked him over. She still didn't completely believe he was real. The past had haunted her for so long, it seemed weird for something good to finally come out of it, for a friend to come back to her from the worst time of her life.

She spoke softly. "You're really not mad at me?"

"I'm really not."

Charlie relaxed. She smiled. Eugene wasn't mad at her after finding out the truth. Mike wasn't mad at her either. Maybe if they believed she could be better... she really could be. "Okay. Yeah." She looked back up at him. "I guess I'll see you around."

Mike grinned. "Count on it."

[dragonsdomain]

Out of Office chapter 5

AO3

Chapter 4

Charlie was done with snipping her scissors. Now she was just sitting in the corner, hugging her knees, with said scissors held in a death grip in her left fist. The reasonable part of her understood that she was the guest here and this was a flower shop, but the emotional part was in charge right now and she wanted to scream at everyone in the room to get out and stop making noise. The two kids were back down there and bustling around and doing work like everything was fine.

Sean was not in the room. Charlie wasn't sure whether she felt a spiteful satisfaction at that or whether she wanted to give him a piece of her mind again. Maybe it'd feel good to just glare at him from across the room, putting little cuts in his conscience like the way she snipped at napkins. He wasn't there though, which maybe was good, since she really wanted to hit him over the head with something heavy.

Her hand tightened 'til she could feel every sharp edge of her scissors on her skin. Why did Sean tell Eugene about the ghost she'd run from? What made him think he had any right to rat her out like that-- or-- or to let Eugene go off by himself! What was that about? Was he stupid?

She'd already yelled all that Sean about all that, but she felt ready enough to do it again. And he was gonna try to defend himself again, saying, what was it, that Eugene deserved to know things, that it wasn't like there was someone better to take care of it. He hadn't said that she should go and fight it, which she distantly appreciated even though she was still unreasonably angry at him.

Charlie tipped sideways onto the floor and grumbled to herself. Sean could pull out that card at any time, actually. And logically, he would be right. Logic was so nasty sometimes. Why couldn't it be on her side for once?

Suddenly Sean burst down into the room and started fiddling against the front door handle. Charlie scrambled to her feet, making some affronted sound in lieu of any formulated words.

"You were right," Sean said without looking at her. "I shouldn't have let him go alone. I'm gonna go find Eugene."

"You're what?!" Charlie sprang after him. "Are you an idiot? What can you do!"

Sean got the bolt open and shoved through the door. "Whatever I can!"

He flew out at top speed. Charlie watched him through the glass door, wide-eyed, and he'd disappeared around the corner before the door had even slowly clicked shut.

"...Huh?" Charlie stood dazed. What. What was that.

Her scissors slipped from her hand and clanked against the floor.

Finley looked up curiously. "Scissor ghost?"

Charlie clenched her fist. She felt cold. She scratched at the last flecks of white on her chest. They were going to know. Eugene and Sean were both about to find out that that horrible monster was her father, that he was like that, that he was dead, because she'd murdered him.

Charlie stumbled backwards, trying to breathe, but she didn't have lungs. She was dead too. Maybe it was about time she started paying for her sins.

That thought made her freeze. No. She couldn't she couldn't. She wasn't ready.

Charlie gasped, grabbed her scissors off of the ground, and threw open the door to run after Sean. She had to stop Sean. She had to stop Eugene. She couldn't let them find out all the horrible truth about her, or she would lose the last few people in her life who were still around and willing to give her a chance.

Hopefully she wasn't already too late.

...

Getting to his body was slow going.

Eugene managed not to pass out this time, but he had to keep alternating between flying and walking. His vision was fuzzing at the edges again, and it hurt, a lot more than he'd even known spirits could hurt, but he had to keep moving. What would even happen if he didn't make it to his body? Would that be death? Worse than death? His mind conjured the worst case scenarios, years passing as Sean and Charlie had to collect the fragmented bits of his spirit until he was whole again, only to be left with no memory of who he was and a dead body.

Eugene shook his head at the thought, then had to fight off a wave of nausea. He would keep going.

He journeyed in a painful daze. It felt like a long time passed before he reached his body, even if he could hardly remember any of it in retrospect. Finally he managed to slip back down into his body, and he started feeling his human senses come to life again.

"-lo? Hello?" Eugene came to feeling an incessant tapping on his shoulder.

"H-huh?" Eugene hissed then, pain twisting through his torso. He curled in on himself and groaned.

"Woah, man, are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?"

Eugene pulled his head up. It was... Mike. The guy who'd asked for Charlie.

He was looking at Eugene in concern, which was probably reasonable. "Are you hurt?"

Eugene drew in a sharp breath, then pulled himself upwards in an effort to sit normally and offer Mike a polite smile to ease his concerns. He failed miserably to do any such thing, and Mike's frown deepened.

"I'm alright," Eugene assured him, not because it was true but because there was nothing he could do, and he didn't want to explain to anyone right now about how pathetically he had just messed up.

"Oookaaay," said Mike doubtfully. "Um. I was just wondering if there was any update about Charlie? I haven't heard from you for a bit."

Eugene tried to stand, but grunted quietly and sat back down. "S-sorry about that. Charlie said she doesn't want to see you, though she wouldn't tell me why."

"Oh," Mike's shoulders drooped. "Okay then. I guess... I don't know. I guess she's still mad at me."

Eugene closed his eyes. What would she have to be mad at Mike for? He hadn't sicced a massive evil spirit right towards her.

Mike sat down next to him and leaned over to try to look at Eugene's chest. "You really don't look very good," he said. "Why don't you at least go to a clinic and get checked out?"

Eugene abruptly stood up, gritting his teeth at the new rush of pain it caused. "Maybe I will. I'll be fine. I'll get back to you if anything changes with Charlie. Goodbye, Mike."

Mike waved doubtfully as Eugene stumbled out the door and towards the subway station. He struggled to the platform, finding a bench to sit down on. Twice in a row he tries doing anything without a bodyguard and gets seriously injured. Pathetic. He really can't do anything, can he?

He sat there panting and felt a slight annoyance when Mike sat down next to him, then an embarrassment as he realized that this was the only way out of the station.

The pain from his injuries gradually became bearable as they waited for the train. It would've been pretty embarrassing if Eugene had passed out or something, and there probably would've been no way to get out of going to the hospital then either. The silence was awkward though.

Mike eventually broke it. "Did Charlie mention why she doesn't want to talk to me?"

"No," Eugene responded. "She just said she didn't want to talk about it."

"Okay," Mike looked away thoughtfully. He started muttering to himself. "Would it be a bad idea to try to talk to her anyway...?"

Eugene watched him, wondering if he knew he'd heard him. "If you don't mind me asking, what were you wanting to talk to her about?"

Mike glanced at Eugene, then looked away. "I don't know if she'd want me telling people. I should probably leave that to her. I'll just say that something happened a while ago, and I want to talk to her about it. I haven't gotten the chance before." He looked somberly down at the ground. "For... reasons you can probably guess."

Eugene scrunched his brows. Why should he be able to guess the reasons?

Mike saw his confusion. "Oh, it's just... she died soon after. Oops, maybe that was too much information too. Um. Drat, I hope she's not upset I told you that."

"Okay," Eugene said. The subway approached as he thought about Mike's words, and he got on first, trying not to wince as he moved. Mike, giving Eugene one last concerned glance, went and sat down elsewhere.

Mike said Charlie had died soon after the event, but he worried that that'd been too much info. Had what happened between them had something to do with her death? And what did that towering evil spirit have to do with it?

...

Luke bit down on the flower and was immediately torn out of his seat and flung across the room and through the ceiling.

Luke made a baffled whimper as he found himself on his back, staring up at the roof of Joy’s kitchen, the room above the basement.

After pulling himself to his feet, Luke processed that somehow he wasn’t actually in any pain. He jogged over to the stairwell he’d somehow been flung through (how does someone get thrown by a blast in multiple directions? In a curve? This would change crime scene investigations), but stopped short when he found the door still closed.

“Huh?” Luke asked, then jumped at the sound of his own voice, weirdly echoey. “H-huh?” Yeah, he definitely hadn’t imagined that. The echo was slight, but distinct, like the sound characters’ thoughts make in movies.

Luke glanced down at his hands and shrieked. They were semi-transparent, and colored a gentle shade of yellow-orange.

“H-heh, uh, Joy? Oliver?” Luke tried to knock on the door, but his hand phased right through it. Luke should’ve felt sick, but he didn’t have a body, did he? “Joy? Oliver?”

Luke held his breath, then stepped through the solid wooden door. He gasped as he stepped out the other side. Had he phased through the floor too, been flung upwards after biting the flower? That would make more sense than a curved force. And also much less sense, because none of this made sense, because people don't go through roofs.

Thankfully walking down the staircase felt fairly normal, except for Luke feeling weirdly weightless, but he tried to ignore that.

"Guys?" Luke asked as he reached the bottom of the staircase, but rather than being greeted by his friends, Luke found himself floundering against a force pushing him backward. Luke fell backward and looked out on the room he hadn't been able to enter.

Joy and Oliver were looking expectantly at-- o-oh, uh, woah, yeah, that was his body over there. Luke was outside of his body. Okay. Wow. That's fine, that's okay, everything's fine. Ahem. Joy and Oliver were looking at. His body. Expectantly or in puzzlement. What really drew Luke's attention was the crucifix from Oliver's grandmother, which was glowing with a blue-hot radiance that overpowered the little light bulb on the ceiling. It felt bizarre that Joy and Oliver didn't seem to notice it. Had it been glowing like that before and he just couldn't see it, or had it started glowing when he left his body?

Luke pushed gently against the invisible barrier again and was pushed back just as hard, with the crucifix noticeably growing in brilliance. So. He wouldn't be able to get back in that room. That was probably what had thrown him out right when he bit the flower too. How was he going to communicate what was going on to his friends? And... how would he get back to his body?

Surely there was a solution to this. Surely there was no reason to freak out. Luke was freaking out. Well, drat.

Luke hummed frantically in an attempt at self-soothing as he headed back up the staircase. He reflexively tried to push the door open, but of course it didn't work, and Luke's humming increased in urgency as his arm fell through the door again.

He darted through the door quickly, finding himself again in the kitchen.

A desperate laugh bubbled out of Luke's throat. He stopped abruptly. "I need help. I need Eugene."

When he set his mind to it, Luke could do something that felt almost like taking a deep breath, and it did help him calm down, at least a little. He did a few more, willing the air to stay within him each time before he exhaled it.

Finally he was calm enough, so he walked towards the front door, steeled himself, then stepped through it.

Looking around himself revealed a familiar environment, except, that is, for the giant spindly slenderman walking down the street.

"hMMM," Luke turned the opposite direction from whatever that was and started walking resolutely toward Eugene's apartment.

Luke was distracted enough that he ended up bumping into someone. "Sorry--" he said, then froze.

"hMm?" a female voice said, sounding distracted as well. "Oh, you're so colorful. Like Eugene."

Luke stared at the woman. She wasn't shaped quite like a human. Her entire being was made up of greys and blacks and whites. "Who are you? How can I touch you? Where am I? What's going on?"

The lady curled back timidly. "Oh, I'm not good at this. Where's the Underworld Office when you need them? Oh... Eugene..."

"Huh?" Luke perked up. "How do you know Eugene?"

She made a nervous hum. "He's the living boy at the Underworld Office. They help ghosts." She tapped Luke's shoulder experimentally, then gave a nervous laugh. "You're not supposed to be out of your body. You're still alive."

"Yeah. Um. Okay." Luke swallowed. "Do you know where Eugene is?"

The sadness on the woman's face deepened. "He looked hurt when I saw him last. Maybe he's working too hard. He's always working hard, and now his coworkers have all left."

Luke frowned. When he'd last seen Eugene, he'd been really sick. "Where did you last see him?"

The woman tipped her head thoughtfully. "Mmm. He was going over that way." She pointed in the direction of the tall black monster lumbering along. "That monster went the same way soon after."

"So I. Have to go that way. Great." Luke gulped. "Okay, um. Thank you, ma'am."

She hummed one last time, then turned and floated off in the other direction. Luke's brain twisted at the sight, and he turned away quickly.

So... Luke started walking off in the direction of the tall, dark creature. He could guess at a couple of places Eugene might've been headed. Maybe he'd been going to Linda's flower shop, where the two kids they'd saved a couple of years back lived. Or maybe he'd been heading towards Station 00. Was that where the "Underworld Office" was? The woman had mentioned that his coworkers were gone. Maybe that was connected to why Eugene had been in such a depressed mood. Funny, Luke had somehow found out more about Eugene's double life in a one-minute conversation with a ghost lady than in years of being friends with Eugene personally. He wanted to laugh and cry at that.

Ideally, Luke would be able to check on the flower shop first, but the towering creature was still between him and it. Luke wasn't stupid, though. He ducked into a nearby side street, jogged down it and around, and popped back onto the main street in front of the tall figure.

Right in front of the tall figure.

Luke stared at it as it stared back down at him, and he thought that maybe he was, after all, a little bit stupid.

He screamed, then dashed off down the street at full speed.

Luke spotted another ghost as he ran, a chubby one this time. He was running towards him. "Hey!" Luke called, waving his arms. "Run! There's a monster this way!"

As they came upon each other, the ghost grabbed Luke's arm, eliciting a yelp, and pulling him to a stop. "Did you see Eugene over there?"

"Huh?" Luke said. "I thought he was over this way?"

"Who told you that? Do you know where he is?"

Luke pulled up his hand defensively. "I don't know! Some ghost lady!"

"Maybe... um," the ghost man cringed. "I can't be wasting time hesitating. He could be in danger. Bye, guy."

"Wh-- hey!"

The pudgy ghost man dashed off towards the towering shape coming ever closer.

Luke gritted his teeth. "He's crazy." He continued running down the street in the other direction.

Soon enough there showed up another ghost charging towards him, this one an all-black androgynous figure. "Outta my way!" She yelled as she passed him, but then she screeched to a stop. "Luke?"

Luke was surprised enough that he also paused in his dramatic flight. He turned around. "...Yeah?" He scanned the person up and down, but he didn't recognize her.

She blinked, then shook her head. "Ugh, forget it." She turned to run off again.

"Wait!" Luke cried, grabbing her wrist.

She froze.

Luke got the distinct impression that he'd done something wrong. Carefully, he let go of her wrist.

She turned back towards him slowly, a haunted expression on her face. "What?"

Luke held his hands up away from her. "Sorry. Sorry. I just... why are you guys running towards that thing over there? Is that where Eugene is? I'm trying to find him, 'cause he can probably help me figure out what's going on, and I'm kind of confused--"

The girl pointed a pair of scissors at Luke which he hadn't noticed her holding. "You better not go towards that thing, got it? I'm on my way to bring back Sean and whoever else you saw going toward it. So help me, do not ask me any more questions right now or I will cut something!"

"A-ah! Okay, I'll-- um, wait here, I guess, or..."

The round ghost man came running back towards the two of them. "Eugene's not there!" He yelled.

The scissor girl whirled on him. "What do you mean he's not there?!"

"I didn't see him! Run! Or else--"

A shadow covered the three of them, and time froze. Luke looked up, and found himself standing in the line of sight of the towering black figure he'd been running to avoid. It had caught up with them.

"chARLIE."

...

She couldn't move.

The grandfather clock was ticking, so slowly, next to her father's desk. His long fingers drummed on its polished wood. She couldn't meet his eyes.

"Charlie," he said. "Tell me what happened."

He knew what had happened. The teacher had already told him when she called. Charlie wanted to purse her lips and say nothing.

"Charlie." There was a sharper edge to his voice.

It snipped through Charlie's composure. She bent down, shaking. "I-I'm sorry, I-I didn't m-mean... I... I didn't..." her voice was so small.

"Stop groveling," he snapped, standing. "Tell me. What. Happened."

Charlie fell to her knees. Her uniform was dirty. She remembered a lot of things that had happened. She'd kicked a locker. She'd ripped up that girl's notebook. She'd punched a teacher.

She'd cut a slash across Mike's face. Blood everywhere.

She hated herself for all of it. She hated her father for making her hate herself.

Hot tears were coming down her face. Charlie gritted her teeth, and exhaled a hiss of air she wanted to be a scream.

"What did you do, Charlie?"

Her scissors were in her hands. There was blood all over the floor.

Charlie's voice was a tiny gasp, barely there at all.

"I killed you."

Drip.

Black, black blood slid off of the scissors' handle, from her father's chest, where it was impaled.

"Why did you do that, Charlie?" he asked, voice deceptively cool.

Charlie was panting, gasping for breath. "I--" I don't know. "I--" I didn't mean to. "I-I... I..." I... was... angry.

"Of course you were," Charlie's father sighed. "And it's always other people who have to deal with the fallout. It's always me. You're still a disgrace. You keep managing to top yourself."

He stepped around his desk towards Charlie. She gave a cry as he grabbed her hair and yanked her up to eye level. "Now you're not just a failure and a brat. You're a murderer too. Was it fun? Did it feel good to finally do everything you've ever wanted?"

Charlie was sobbing too hard to answer. She reached up to grab the hair that was being pulled, but her father shook it until she let go, crying harder.

"Well? Was it?"

"No," Charlie gasped out. "N-no, it w-wasn't."

Charlie's father finally let go of her hair. Instead he grabbed her head in both hands, and turned her face up to his, and she had to look in his eyes. Those sharp scribbles of eyes that cut just by looking. "Then what do you do now?"

Charlie didn't want those eyes to swallow her. There was a right answer to give. One answer her father wanted. An apology would be the wrong answer, one she'd already given, and it had not been enough. He didn't want a promise that she would do better. He wouldn't believe her, and neither would she.

There was no right answer.

Her scissors had slipped from her hand at some point. Where were they? She wanted them, for some reason. Maybe she would stab her father again. Maybe two wrongs would make a nothing. Maybe she could forget everything again, run to the other side of the earth and pretend none of this was real.

But her scissors were gone. She was weak without them. Powerless.

"Well?"

Charlie opened her mouth breathless, maybe with a plea for mercy on her tongue, but suddenly a slash lanced down through the dream, and she was awake again, back on the sidewalk. She blinked, looking around herself.

Luke had her scissors in his hand, and they were stabbed into the reaching arm of the monster that Charlie's father was. The fingers that were holding her pinned against the ground. A drop of black blood slid down her father's arm and dripped onto the one white spot left over her heart, staining it black.

Then the arm ripped back away from Charlie, and the monster screamed. Someone grabbed Charlie and started dragging her back towards the flower shop until other arms scooped her up and carried her there. They burst through the door to the shop, startling Tatum, and slammed it shut behind them. Sean clicked the lock shut.

Sean set Charlie onto her feet, looking dazed. Luke was panting. "Can someone... explain... what just happened?" Luke gasped wildly.

Outside the flower shop, the legs of the ghost of Charlie's father came into view. He crouched down, holding the sides of the shop and blocking out the sun through the windows. He peered in through the front door straight at Charlie.

Sean gulped. "That's probably not good."

Chapter 6

[dragonsdomain]

Out of Office chapter 4

AO3

Chapter 3

"You got the flower?!" Joy's voice cried through the phone, making Luke wince and pull it away from his ear.

"Yeah, I did," Luke answered with a frown Joy couldn't see.

"Wow, you go! You're a credit to the EPS, Officer!"

"Joy..." Luke grumbled.

"Alright, alright. Sorry. Where are you? I could call Oliver and we can come find you."

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now. I mean, unless you're busy? It's a Saturday, so I thought..."

Luke sighed. "No, it's fine. Let's meet at your house again."

"Awesome! See you soon."

Luke hung up the phone. He touched the wilting flower in his pocket. This all felt so wrong. He'd never done things behind Eugene's back before. Obviously they didn't tell each other everything, but this was a whole new level of not okay. This didn't feel right. Somehow Luke couldn't imagine Eugene wouldn't eventually find out what he, Joy, and Oliver were doing, and the thought of his reaction made him feel sick. There was no guarantee he'd understand their reasons for doing this. Luke barely understood his reasons for doing this.

He was already walking towards Joy's house. Was that it? Was he just weak-willed, so he let himself be swept along with whatever Joy and Oliver wanted to do? What if... he stopped?

Luke paused in his tracks. He could tell them right now that he didn't feel good about this. He could give the flower back to Eugene. They'd understand his hesitance; it'd all be fine. Eugene might feel a little betrayed about him taking the flower, but he'd apologize, and they'd make up, and it would be over.

And then Eugene would keep doing whatever it was that he'd been doing. He'd still be depressed and distant and unable to tell Luke why. Luke clutched the flower's stem. It might be a childish thought, but Luke sometimes wondered if Eugene secretly wanted someone to talk to about what he was doing. If it was as hard for him to keep things from Luke as it was for Luke to be kept out of it. It still didn't feel like this was Luke's decision to make; it should be Eugene's. But... it had been years, and Eugene hadn't.

Luke sighed, sagging. Maybe the fact that Eugene hadn't told him about things was a sign that he didn't want him to know. That thought kind of hurt. Luke considered Eugene his best friend, but maybe Eugene didn't feel the same way. And... should Luke be upset about that? Shouldn't he let Eugene make his own decisions? Maybe none of this was Luke's choice to make.

Luke's phone buzzed with a text. "Oliver and I are here. You close?" Joy.

Luke shook his head. Had he really just been wondering if Eugene even wanted to be friends with him? Maybe he was just overthinking all of this. Maybe he was overreacting. He might as well just find out a little bit more with Joy and Oliver. Maybe they'd find out they had nothing to worry about all along.

...

Eugene's plan had been to go on patrol, but usually the goal on one was to make sure there weren't any evil ghosts in the area. According to Sean, Charlie had already found one for him, right near his apartment, so he might be able to just skip the first part of the patrol and go straight to... confronting a powerful evil spirit. Which had frightened Charlie enough that she was cowering in the flower shop.

Eugene put a hand to his chest as he walked down the street. It wasn't hurting anymore, and he felt fine. Mostly.

He still really didn't want to fight anyone. Now that he knew the truth, that every monster was just a spirit racked with guilt, Eugene couldn't help but feel that sealing any away was a sin. He wondered sometimes what would have happened to himself if, that day all those years ago, he'd chosen to take it upon himself to avenge Susan's death and kill her husband. He remembered considering it. Things could have gone very differently. Eventually he'd shaken off the idea since he didn't think he was strong enough alone.

Maybe he was projecting a little too much... but maybe he was right. Maybe this ghost could be reasoned with. Almost every one of his ghostly friends had struggled with some degree of dark guilt. It would be unfair to their memories not to try.

Eugene sat alone on the subway on its way towards Station 00. He always thought it was interesting how the ride looked. The farther down the track they went, the more people got off, the fewer got on, until gradually the train trickled into emptiness, leaving Eugene all alone. It was routine, just as usual. He wondered how many of these people even knew about what had happened at Station 00. Was the confrontation that had been so life-wrecking for him just the ghost of a thought for them?

The feelings of the ride were also familiar to Eugene. With people crowded around him, he always felt isolated, but the emptier the train became, the more that isolation dissipated. He'd assumed before that it was in anticipation of seeing his friends at the Underworld Office, but he felt the same this time. Maybe he just felt better being alone when there weren't others around at all. 

The train slowly pulled to a stop at Station 00. Eugene got off. Broken glass crunched under his shoes as the train rumbled away. It didn't look like much progress had been made with repairs. Maybe this station was low on the city's list of priorities.

Eugene made his way into the empty room that used to be the Underworld Office. He walked up to the lost and found closet. He'd be going to face this ghost alone again, but should he bring something to help? Hayden's hat might not be much help in combat, but it might come in handy for finding the ghost. Joan's gun... that didn't feel right to use. He grabbed Hayden's hat and the lock of River's hair, putting both with Boss's fan in his pocket.

Eugene brushed aside some debris with his foot then sat down against the wall of the room, pulling out Sean's flower to look at it. It felt like he was holding his breath. Going to face a powerful ghost felt wrong without anyone else. But what choice did he have?

Eugene bit down on the guardian flower, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes.

...

Luke sat down in Joy’s basement. He pulled out the flower, and held it out towards Joy and Oliver.

“Wow… you really got it.” Oliver looked up at Luke in surprise.

Luke didn’t look at him. “Now what?”

Joy glanced down at the flower again. “I guess one of us should probably check on Eugene. See if he acts any different or mentions the flower.”

Luke sagged down. “This is stupid,” he grumbled. “We don’t even know what we’re doing.”

“No, no!” Oliver said. “One of us needs to put the flower in our mouth like he does.”

Luke raised an eyebrow at him. “What if something weird happens?”

Oliver clapped his hands. “I already ghost-proofed the basement.”

Luke gaped at him. “You what?”

Joy made a horrible grunting noise that sounded awfully like a stifled laugh. She coughed to cover it up, straightening her face. “He was bored. While we were waiting for you. So he started googling ghost wards and sticking every one he could find around this room.”

“I got holly, haint blue cloth, a weird crucifix from my great-grandmother,” Oliver listed the items off on his fingers. “Salt.”

Joy sniffed in what may have been another attempt to cover laughter. “Yeah, um. I maintain that there’s probably a bigger risk of, say, a surprise allergic reaction. But I guess it’s good to know we definitely won’t be getting possessed tonight.”

“Then who’s going to be putting the flower into their mouth?” Luke asked, staring down at it in his lap.

Joy and Oliver looked at each other. Joy raised an eyebrow. Oliver’s eyes widened, and he shook his head.

Joy looked back over at Luke. “I mean, I could do it, if neither of you want to.”

Luke looked up at her, then back down at the flower. “No. I’ll do it. If we’re right about this, I want to know what Eugene has been going through.”

Joy frowned. “I hope you won’t be too disappointed if it doesn’t do anything.”

“I’d rather it not, actually,” Luke said. That would mean their worries were for nothing. Or at least, nothing quite so strange as Luke was worried. He wasn’t afraid of being proven wrong. “I guess we’ll see.”

“Good luck,” Oliver said solemnly.

Joy was starting to look uncomfortable. “Okay, get it over with. This suspense is killing me.”

Luke put the flower in his mouth. He looked at Joy and Oliver.

Oliver stared. “Anything?”

“Mm’m,” Luke shook his head.

Joy sagged in relief.

“‘M’a try one m’r thing,” Luke mumbled past the flower. Then he lay down on his back in his beanbag chair, and closed his eyes.

...

Eugene sat up, his body slumping away from his spirit, then checked his pockets to ensure he was ready to go toe to toe with a dangerous spirit. He still had Boss' fan, as well as River's lock of hair and Hayden's hat. It felt strange to just take the artifacts without asking, but this was the reason they'd been left with him.

Eugene floated up through the ceiling, then flew quickly towards his apartment. His flight was slow compared to River's or Boss', but it was quick enough. Faster than the subway, anyhow. He reached his building within a few minutes and landed atop the roof, scanning the surrounding streets.

It was oddly peaceful. There were a couple of living people walking down the streets, one peaceful spirit he recognized who hung around his apartment complex. Nothing seemed wrong. Had the evil spirit Charlie ran into left?

Eugene hovered down to talk to the peaceful spirit, a woman with a melancholy face. "Ma'am? Have you seen any dangerous spirits around here?"

She looked at him hesitantly, tilting her head. "Hmmmm... I saw... a thin individual, pitch black... with scissors...?"

"Oh, that's just Charlie. She's harmless," Eugene said, frowning.

"Harmless...?" the woman muttered. Her eyes became visible under her long hair. "So dark for someone harmless... She... has done something terrible..."

Eugene coughed, avoiding her searching gaze. "She's good now. I'm looking for a different dark spirit. Have you seen another one?"

"Mmm... no..." the woman pondered. "But your dark friend... she was... running... Afraid..?"

"Which way?" Eugene asked.

The woman pointed. "From there."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Eugene said, giving her a nod.

"Be careful..." she said.

Eugene gulped, then nodded, walking away. He headed off down the street. What did she mean? Sure, Charlie had done something. There was something she felt awful for. But how bad could it have been if she'd never become a monster for it? Should Eugene ask her about it?

Wait... that man from Charlie's high school had come to Station 00, wanting to talk to her. He knew what had happened. So it couldn't have been so bad, if he still wanted to talk to her. Right?

Eugene came to an intersection, and wasn't sure which way to turn. He's seen no sign of Charlie's monster.

"Hello?" he called out tentatively.

Silence. Strange. How could Charlie have been the only one to notice a spirit so dangerous it left her spooked?

"Mrow."

Eugene jumped, whirling around. A cat. He let out an embarrassed chuckle. "Ah. Hey there," he said.

The cat gave another sharp meow, flicking its tail impatiently.

Eugene hurriedly pulled Eugene's hat out and put it on. "Sorry," he said, "I forgot."

The cat sniffed disdainfully. "If you want my help, act like it," it said, now understandable to Eugene.

"Sorry," Eugene said again, then winced at the redundancy.

"You're looking for an evil spirit who was chasing your friend, hm?" the cat said.

"Yes," responded Eugene. "So yo--"

"This way," the cat interrupted, turning and dashing off to the right.

"Ah! Wait!" Eugene jumped off of the ground and flew quickly after the cat.

The two of them zipped along the sidewalk, then the cat led Eugene down an alleyway. Buildings stretched tall on either side, and the place was dark and dirty, like it was rarely visited. The kind of place Eugene would never go as a human, for fear of being mugged.

“Keep walking along this path, human. I’m leaving,” the cat said.

Eugene nodded to it. “I’ll reward you later today.”

“As you should,” the cat scoffed, then turned and dashed away.

Eugene gulped, looking back at the alleyway. He felt the fan and lock of hair in his pocket. He was starting to wonder if he really should have brought along Joan’s gun.

Eugene shook his head. He wasn’t going to fight this ghost, not unless he had to. He’d find out what was wrong, and then help. He didn’t want to cause any more damage than he’d already helped cause.

There was a dark feeling hovering in the alleyway. Malice from the ghost. Eugene tried to focus. He took an unnecessary deep breath to calm himself.

“Hello?” he called out. His gut clenched with fear. It’s fine, it’s fine. The spirit was just in pain.

“ChaArlie…?”

Eugene froze. He turned around. And his eyes traveled up… and up. He met a set of wide, piercing eyes. It felt like they were looking into his soul, picking apart his every flaw.

Eugene’s mouth was dry. “Who are you?”

The creature stared down at him, where he stood far below its long, long limbs, and hands that could crush him. “Who ArE YOU?”

One of the hands reached down and grabbed Eugene by his collar, causing him to cry out, then yanking him up towards the face. Those massive eyes felt like they were burning him, roasting him for every sin.

“Ah‒” Eugene choked. “Stop… please…”

“Where is Charlie… Where is my daughter?” The eyes burned into him hatefully.

“Ah! Y‒ your what?” Eugene’s eyes widened as the long fingers curled around him. “Your daughter?!”

“You know where she is,” the monster’s eyes narrowed. Its voice was becoming clearer. “And you’re trying to avoid telling me. You awful boy.”

The fingers squeezed Eugene, and he whimpered. “Th-that hurts‒”

“Tell me where my foolish daughter is, and I’ll let you go, boy.” The creature pulled Eugene close up to its face.

Eugene desperately tried to breathe. He was fine, he was fine. It wasn’t like he had ribs to crush. He… he needed to get the ghost to calm down. “Why do you want her…?” Eugene gasped out.

“Because she’s in trouble, boy.” His hand squeezed tighter. “Now tell me.”

Eugene cried out. He felt himself starting to panic, unable to breathe. Great, calm down, calm down. Panicking wouldn’t help anyone. “I’m sure she’s… sorry…”

Something seemed to snap in the monster, and it crushed Eugene in its hand. Eugene gasped silently at the pain. Some part of his soul had ruptured.

“SORRY?” Charlie’s father slammed Eugene against a brick wall. “You think she’s sorry, for KILLING ME?!”

Eugene couldn’t respond. Killing… him…

Charlie had killed him?

Charlie had killed her father.

Charlie had killed her own father.

Something was dripping. The ghost tossed Eugene onto the ground, and Eugene drew in a painful breath.

The monster leaned down over Eugene. “Where. Is. She.”

It was him. He was dripping. His spirit had split again along the wounds from yesterday and was leaking. Eugene hurt. A lot. Maybe he should have used River’s hair earlier? Yeah, he should’ve… he was too weak now.

“...Flower shop,” Eugene panted.

The ground shook as Charlie’s dead father stood up. Eugene felt him walking away.

Eugene closed his eyes.

What had just happened…?

Charlie had killed her own father…?

And Eugene had just directed him right to her…

Chapter 5