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whoopsyeahokay · 7 days ago

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October Moon

summary: things had begun to escalate after Quinn Wu had been pushed from the roof by none other than your brother-in-law. revelations had been made and everyone had been prepared to get down to business.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

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

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER MOON pt.6

The Ciorcal. A council that oversaw a clutch of families whose blood was infused with connectedness. There were many throughout the world, the number of families under each Ciorcal's governance limited to ensure the rules could be effectively enforced. Ciorcals weren't all powerful or meddling. Nothing like the Volturi in Twilight or the Ministry of Magic in Harry Potter. More like a rural Board of Revision who stepped in to make decisions when families couldn't agree on courses of action. Very mundane stuff that often involved pots upon pots of coffee during deliberations, and a lot of paperwork. Often, hearings took time to schedule since most councilmembers had real lives with real jobs and real social demands.

You'd never met them. You didn't know who your family had to report to if an issue arose with someone's connectedness. There was a ledger tucked away somewhere that only the matriarch had the privilege of using to reach out to them or to the other families under your Ciorcal's administration.

The matriarch in your family was, of course, Ginny. And Ginny didn't seem pleased to have had to call one of the councilmen ('Godfrey', you'd heard her bark when he'd rambled on for too long about his grandkid's ballet recital) simply because Andrew had found a totem linked to a homicide that'd occurred in Mississippi in 2010.

The right thing to do, you thought, was to hand it over to police so they could test it for DNA or whatever. Only, there was nothing special about the totem to indicate that it'd had anything to do with anything apart from having been donated. They were normal-looking sneakers. Not even a pair that the victim had been reported as having worn. And Andrew had happened upon them at a Goodwill while browsing for costume pieces with his girlfriend. There was nothing Andrew could say that would sound plausible enough to avoid becoming the next prime suspect.

Ginny pinched the bridge of her nose, groaned, and then said harshly, "I understand that Marjorie has apples to harvest, Godfrey, but we need to———interrupt me again and I swear to every God and Goddess you can name I will choke you with your ridiculous bolo. I dare you to test me."

You tried not to laugh, pressed your lips together and grabbed Nanna's hand to share the intensity of your amusement. You were both sat in the living room hunched over a puzzle, a relaxing pastime Nanna shared with you when you were stressed. And, oh boy, were you stressed. It was your sophomore year; you felt awkward and ugly and you had nothing to wear to Homecoming. Plus, although you knew it was stupid, Wallace J. Clark had started haunting you for real and you maybe-sort-of wanted to impress him. Even if you couldn't have sought out, talked to, or acknowledged him in any way.

Ginny's agitated growl brought you back to the present. She tossed the cordless landline phone onto the couch and collapsed beside it, head on the backrest, fingers massaging her temples.

"All good, sister?" Nanna asked with an almost imperceptible upward curve of her lips, her focus on the scattered puzzle pieces in front of her.

Ginny rolled her head to the side to scowl at her, "They're all idiots and I want a new Circle. In fact, I demand it. Who do I bring this up with?"

Nanna's eyes glittered, "I think we'd have to move, if that's the case."

"Oh, hooey, the Botz's moved a state over and they still have to suffer Godfrey." Ginny glared into the middle distance, gaze fierce, "We should petition to have them replaced."

"Can you do that?" You asked and glanced between Nanna and Ginny. Surely, that'd be too difficult to manage given the short supply of qualified people with connectedness.

Ginny's eyes twitched, "Even if we can't, I will!" She exclaimed, truly frustrated. "Bloody sheep shaggi—"

"And~ we've sorted enough pieces for today," Nanna interrupted, clapped her knees and rose from her chair, encouraging you to follow her, "Let's get started on supper, sweetpea."

"I want steak!" Ginny called after you and Nanna, "With garlic mash! After putting up with slow-talker Godfrey, I've earned it!" And then, to herself, "It takes that man a thousand years to get to the point. I'm seventy-nine, for Chrissakes, I don't have time for that."

Nanna sing-songed back, "You'll get what you're given!"

"It's not too early to pass the baton onto you, you know." Ginny threatened through a pleasant smile. Apparently, dealing with the Ciorcal was a responsibility nobody wanted.

Nanna paused briefly and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, released it, "Garlic mash, you said?"

Ginny grinned victoriously.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

You were snuggled against Wally, back to front, between his legs on the floor at the back of the library. It was still too early on a Monday morning to worry about being caught. Charley sat against the opposite bookshelf, cross-legged with his back against the American History section. Ajay was sprawled across the windowsill. He listened as he gazed outside forlornly, still nursing Mina's ongoing absence.

Beside you, Maddie leaned against Wally, her head on his shoulder, arms around her knees, clearly battling with too many thoughts. Claire, Xavier; Mr. South, who was responsible for knocking her from her body with a crowbar, apparently. The surfacing of the crowbar nagged at you, the nature of how it wound up in the woods covered in blood didn't sit right regardless of the fact that the police found it near Maddie's lost backpack.

If Mr. South had hurt Maddie, why hadn't he simply cleaned the weapon and put it back where it belonged? No one had been looking at him; he'd have easily gotten away with it. Especially with an alibi that Xavier could have provided. Had provided and had been ignored.

Currently, Xavier stood at the end of the aisle, wary and alert and watching the door for anyone who wasn't on Team Parabnormal, as he'd called it. A loyal guardian.

He hadn't left your side all weekend, even on Saturday when you'd snuck onto school grounds to see Wally under Security Guard Barry's nose. Xavier had respectfully waited with Ajay while you and Wally had taken advantage of the makeshift bed that hadn't yet been dismantled. It'd been the distraction you'd needed after how Friday had wrapped up, and though Xavier hadn't been too keen, he'd driven Aurora's car and had diligently pretended he hadn't chauffeured you to a sex date with your forty-years-dead boyfriend.

Xavier was a good person. The only person you could trust without having to explain yourself, and now there was family drama aplenty.

After Aurora had arrived at the school to collect you on Friday, she'd informed you that Ginny had had another episode. That Nanna had had to stay behind to wait for an ambulance because Ginny hadn't opened her eyes when they'd tried to rouse her after you'd called. She'd had episodes often throughout your life, but this seemed to be the worst of them. It reminded you that she wasn't as youthful and vivacious as she seemed. That she was a woman in her eighties with a body that no longer performed the way it used to.

Xavier had had Claire drop him off at your house before Aurora had left, wanted to be there should Dave have returned. He hadn't, but that Xavier had stepped up to protect your grandmother and great-aunt solidified for you that Xavier wasn't what Maddie and Simon believed, regardless of what he'd done to Maddie. He'd taken a taxi to the hospital with Nanna and had stayed until you and Aurora had relieved him.

For her part, Aurora had been a shell of herself. Vacant behind the eyes. On the phone, you'd had to tell her why Sheriff Baxter had insisted she and Nanna and Ginny leave the house if Dave hadn't shown up yet. Shock, Nanna had whispered when you and Aurora had joined her in Ginny's hospital room, Aurora staring into space while you spoke quietly to Nanna. Currently, Aurora rotted in the bed of the Baxter's guest room, head under a pillow as if she could block out the world.

They hadn't found Dave. Dave who might not have been innocent, but who hadn't been present when his body had pushed Quinn off the roof. Though his eyes had still been hazel, you'd known that it'd been Amelia looking through them. His situation wasn't like Christopher Nears whose ghost had been expelled from his body and trapped. No, Dave had been a—

"Golem?" Charley asked, head cocked like a confused puppy, "Like the clay monster things?"

"Yes and no," You offered, "In myth it means the clay monster things, but Circles use the term to describe someone whose body is animated by energy that's not theirs."

Charley raised an eyebrow and, "So, a possession," he stated skeptically.

"Hard no," You said and held up your hand as you listed, "First, only a traveler can use a golem. Second, golems are temporary and the host's ghost is dormant in their body while their body is being used. Third, to be used as a golem, you have to have either full-blown connectedness, like me, or you have to have the potential to have it.

"Possession, on the other hand, can happen to anyone and the possessor has to be dead. A ghost with no body." Charley's face pinched as he tried to follow. You elaborated, "Also, the host is aware of the ghost. Generally, the ghost is a super pissed off person who died traumatically. Hence why there's always records of lashing out and cursing and all that stuff."

"Got it. Golems, temporary. Possessions, a lot of projectile vomiting?" Charley added with a question mark.

You winced and tipped your head from side to side, "Either one can make you sick, actually. Think of it like an infection. The longer it sticks around, the harder your body tries to reject it. Either the body wins...or it doesn't."

"Jesus," Wally said under his breath, "This shit is wild."

Xavier interjected, "Can we please go back to the part where you said to be a golem you have to have magic?"

"It's not magic," You deadpanned.

"Don't really care." Xavier dismissed, and then, "You're telling me Dave has or could have magic?"

The corners of your mouth dropped severely, "Yeah. I know. Trust me."

"You had latent magic," Maddie mentioned to Xavier, "Same with Simon." She panned to you for support, "Right? That's why they can see us."

"It's still not magic, but I'd say yes." After a moment of reflection, you urged Maddie, "Trust me, though, if you knew Dave, you'd understand why it's so..."

"Fucking. Dave." Xavier finished on your behalf. You gestured to him to encompass that.

Charley brought everyone's attention back on task when he asked, "Guys, if Amelia's already possessing people—"

"Borrowing," You inserted the correct terminology.

"Borrowing?" Charley blinked several times, "Okaaay. So, if Amelia is borrowing people...that means she has to have a body around here, right?" You nodded. "One she obviously wants to get rid of or she wouldn't be creeping around. And her whole thing is stealing bodies." Again, you nodded. "So, why doesn't she just...keep one of the bodies she borrows? Kick the person out and take over. Like she did with..." Charley grimaced, avoiding Maddie's eye, "With Maddie's dad." he finished limply.

To be honest, "I don't think she can," you said, then chewed your lip in thought. "You could technically push someone's soul out of their body. Amelia did do it to Christopher?" At that, Maddie bowed her head, "But if it's for long-term use, you risk the body rejecting you since it isn't yours. Compare it to an organ donation. Unless the chemistry matches, there's no guarantee a ghost can just keep the body. Which means, if they're in there too long and they're not a match, the body starts to die. A lot slower than an actual dead body. But still...same-same."

The ghosts looked between themselves, Charley's features conveying to you that usurping someone's body was something he'd never considered.

"We're not assholes," Ajay reminded him, having read Charley's expression for what it was. "Although it would be nice to leave the school. Even for a day."

"We're not assholes," Wally echoed as he stroked your hip with his thumb, almost as if he was reassuring you that no one in his haunt was going to shove a living person out of their body for a field trip.

You smiled up at him before informing everyone, "Besides, if you're inexperienced, you'd need a big source of energy to ensure you could successfully hold onto a body. Which brings me back to why Amelia can't just keep one of her golems. In that memory I got trapped in, Alastair said something about how the death of those cult members was what glued his and Anabelle's and Amelia's souls into their new bodies. I think Amelia would need to tap into........." You trailed off, the realization dawning in discouraging degrees. "Oh my god..."

There was an extended silence until, from the windowsill, "That's why we're trapped here," Ajay uttered as he came to the same realization, scanning the group. "Amelia's using us the same way she used the dead cult members, isn't she?"

Wally tensed behind you, his thumb stilled on your hip, "What does that mean?"

"It means the symbols I found were probably made by the Something-Something to trap their energy source." Ajay's gaze was heavy as he clarified, "Us."

Charley glanced between you and Ajay before fixing on you, "But you said there were, like, fifty or sixty of them. Including us, we're only twenty here. Nineteen now that Janet crossed over. If we're stuck here because of Amelia, she's been doing this since the '50s. That's—"

"That'd put her up there in age," Xavier acknowledged, brows lifting in disbelief.

"Unless she just got lucky." Maddie said, "We don't actually know how old the symbols are, just that they aren't recent."

You disagreed, "Rhonda's been here since 1963 and couldn't leave the grounds after her death."

"The only way out has always been crossing over," Charley said glumly. "And somehow Janet managed it despite being evil." He said Janet's name the way you said Dave's. As if spitting out bitter fruit.

Everyone quieted for a moment as you and they puzzled over their circumstances until something popped to mind. "You know, nothing in the research I did specified that the symbols would be enough to trap you guys here. Yes, ghosts are pure energy and energy can be harnessed, but you guys are still people. You have agency. You can decide things." Your thoughts tumbled like balls in a bingo cage, "There has to be something else, another part of it that we haven't figured out yet."

Wally smoothed a hand over your forehead, pulling your hair back so he could stamp a kiss to your brow before murmuring, "Something that Janet probably knew since she was working with Amelia." He skipped his gaze between Charley and Ajay, "That's probably why Janet was able to move on before any of us."

Maddie untucked her legs and stretched them out, folded her arms, and frowned, "But why would Amelia let her?" She shook her head, "If Amelia thought Janet was important enough to take her on day trips out of the school, why let Janet cross over?"

"Mercy?" You suggested, "Or maybe Amelia's plan, whatever it is, was taking too long and Janet didn't wanna wait around to see it through. In which case, I don't think she was supposed to cross over." The gears in your head turned, "That would explain why Amelia tried to kill Quinn. To...to replace Janet."

Xavier pointed out, "Didn't Maddie kind of do that?"

"Maddie's not dead," You reminded him, "Which is why we aren't clear if Amelia's involved in her stuff or not." You explained further, eyes falling to Maddie who openly couldn't discern the difference between her ghost and those trapped in the school since she was just as unable to leave. "You've still got a foothold in the living world. Amelia wouldn't be able to use you unless she can kill your body. She hasn't so..."

"So she might not be responsible for what happened to me." Maddie filled in, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Good to know that I may not be part of a cult I don't remember signing up for."

"Right. Yes." Xavier gave a general a-okay gesture, "That's a relief, but if Maddie isn't Janet's stand-in, let's say Amelia managed to kill Quinn," He pondered, did the math, "that still doesn't bring the total number of ghosts anywhere near fifty or sixty. If Amelia needs more than that..."

"If," Ajay said as he hopped down from the windowsill. "She could've perfected the ritual. It's just her now, right?"

"That we can confirm, yeah." Then you speculated, "Anabelle could be out there, too. Being Amelia's mom, I bet she is. It sounded like they were ride or die when I saw them in that memory." The group sat in troubled silence for a moment before you spoke, your voice pitched low, "This might not be the only place she's hording ghosts."

"Is it possible for her to use the energy if it's not all in one place?" Ajay asked, curious.

You bit your lip as you worked it out, "The symbols aren't just binding runes. The weird extra lines could be, like, a way to connect power terminals. To-to hook the energy sources together." You glanced at Xavier and took a deep, shaky breath, "I think I need to go back to the farmhouse."

"Why there?" Xavier asked.

You shrugged as you mulled it over, "It's where she brought me and Aiden." A condoling look to Maddie, "She trapped Christopher there. She and her mom killed a bunch of people there. There might be clues there that would help. Maybe I could find the same symbols around the property. It should be easier now that I know what to look for."

Wally's arms tightened around you protectively, "Not on your own, baby," and pressed a kiss to your head, letting his lips rest there for a few seconds as he inhaled you. He'd always been affectionate, but since the dance, it was as though he couldn't bear the idea of being apart from you for even a second. If you were within reach, he touched you, held you, kissed you. It was as overwhelming as it was welcome, his affection addictive. "Can Simon go?" Because he rejected the idea of Xavier accompanying you right off the bat. Not that you had any idea.

Coming closer and crouching a couple of feet away from you and Wally, Xavier said, "I agree with Grease Lightning, kiddo, you're not going alone," a short pause as he plotted, and then, "We can go tonight. My dad's working a double until 10PM, so he won't notice if we're not home."

"You're still staying at his house?" Wally asked a little roughly, shifting so you were forced to peer up at him. Beneath the concern, you could sense the jealousy he tried to conceal.

"Until tomorrow," You confirmed, "The locksmith's been booked solid since the break-ins started and couldn't get to us until tomorrow morning."

He pouted, a small thing that made your heart lurch, his lips twisted and his eyes regretful, "I wish I could go with you."

"You~ have an important job to do here," You smiled softly as you ran your fingers through his hair to ease him, "You guys are going to help Maddie get her memory back and then we'll be able to figure out what happened and if her disappearance ties into whatever Amelia's trying to accomplish here."

Wally nodded, but his arms tightened around you further.

"I promise to cooperate," Maddie said with humor, having noticed Wally's resistance to accept that you were going on a road trip with Xavier who she suspected had done something besides cheat on her to upset Wally. "I'll go along with whatever weird, kooky thing you guys wanna try." She lifted her hand, scout's honor, "No complaining."

"That's an offer we can't refuse," Charley chuckled and tapped Wally's foot with his toe, "Whaddya think, buddy?"

Unenthusiastically, "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds awesome." He stamped another kiss to your head. Tentatively, eyes soft, he asked, "Do you think Aiden'll be there?"

The question made Maddie flinch, because if Aiden's ghost was trapped in the farmhouse, it was likely that Christopher's was also. Measuring your words, "I'm not sure. This might sound terrible but," Your eyes met Xavier's, "I hope not."

Xavier's mouth pinched and he cast his gaze to the ground. You didn't know what he felt, though you could assume it was equal parts confusion, hope, and fear. Same as you.

Another deep inhale and sharp exhale, "I don't even know how I'm going to find the place. My memory is fucked. I still remember it being in town."

Charley volunteered, "I saw Meheive on the mailbox, if that helps," his voice hushed and uncertain.

"We'll start there." You said, giving him a grateful smile. "I'll head to the computer lab before the Mock Trial and put my name on the log." Mr. Balkin was a stickler about that. First come, first serve was not in his vocabulary, even if there were computers open. "I'll see what I can find at lunch and then text you," you told Xavier, getting to your feet.

Taking your cue, everyone stood, ready to leave, except Ajay who returned to roost on the windowsill. When Wally inquired about Group, Ajay brushed it off, stating he wasn't in the mood. If Mr. Martin was as out of the loop as Wally made it seem, you couldn't see how he'd have much to offer Ajay on the Mina front. In your opinion, the man seemed altogether at sea when it came to what ghosts could or couldn't do. Like open locked doors or—in normal circumstances—leave the place they died (though you couldn't blame him for not knowing the latter since he'd probably made the assumption based on his own experience).

Wally patted Ajay's shoulder and then returned to you. Leaned down and kissed you slowly, sweetly, pulling back to whisper, "I love you, baby."

"I love you, too." You replied, closing your eyes when you felt him kiss your forehead, all sweet and doting, his hands squeezing your hips as he smiled down at you. "I'll see you at lunch."

At Wally's agreement, everyone but Ajay exited the library; you and Xavier went left, the ghosts went right toward the gym. You had a log to sign and a Mock Trial to prepare for as liaison for the school newspaper.

"I'm going to find Simon," Xavier said when you and he reached the end of the hall, about to part ways. He glanced furtively down the hall as if checking to make sure the coast was clear before he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, "I'll be there, kiddo." He assured you, and then gave you a crooked smile, "If things go sideways, we go down together."

In mock appreciation, "Such a glass-half-full thing to say, Zav."

"You know me," He removed his hand and took a few steps backwards, "always looking for the silver lining."

You rolled your eyes, turned in the other direction, and called over your shoulder, "You're an idiot!"

Xavier called back, "You love me anyway!"

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Group was tense, a static hum closing in on Wally as he sat in his seat, leg bouncing, studying Mr. Martin carefully.

Things had turned sour almost immediately after Wally vetoed Mr. Martin's scheduled activity for the day. The Mock Trial last year had been a snooze fest and even your presence this year couldn't sway Wally's opinion. Sure, he enjoyed that you were close, that he could keep an eye on you; something he'd felt more inclined to do after Friday night for many reasons, but it'd been thirty-nine years of lackluster scenarios because the school didn't want to subject the youth to violence and gore.

When he'd walked into the gym and seen the fake evidence bag with the bloody knife, he'd almost been interested. However, a quick scan of your notes and his interest had flattened. Then knife had been planted to frame the accused so their business partner could sell the company. Ugh.

Vetoing Mr. Martin's itinerary wasn't new. And Wally wasn't the only one who'd done it. Cherub-faced Katelynn had bowed out of Model UN because she had no interest in politics. Charley had refused to participate in Mock Congress for similar reasons. Bernie had all but bitten Mr. Martin's head off when he'd recommended the overnight outdoor education the sophomores had elected to try in 2005. She did not do immersive survival campouts.

Yet, Wally had never seen this side of Mr. Martin. Jaw tense, eyes wild. Vexed. His feathers ruffled in a way that they'd never been. Traditionally, Mr. Martin was a pillar of even tones and encouragement. The man who'd assumed the role of leader for their patchwork haunt with grace and humility. He was the glue, the calk, the cement that kept them together.

Until Maddie threatened to leave Group to find clues to clear Mr. South's name. The session had already been going off the rails at thunderous speed since Charley had kept probing Maddie for answers. Wally figured it was Charley's angle to unlock her memories, but it only served to get under Mr. Martin's skin and put the man on edge. And, weirdly, spouting Mr. Martin's passive mumbo jumbo, Rhonda seemed to be on his side. She'd never bought into Mr. Martin's therapy speech, as well-meaning as it was, yet, recently, she'd been a lost duckling trailing behind him and regurgitating his words like revelation.

What the hell was going on?

Wally was startled from his thoughts when Mr. Martin said, "Whether your memory returns or not, you're not in a position to help the accused, Maddie." At which Wally and Charley shared a nervous look. "We have no influence over what happens in that world."

Wally flicked his gaze to the back of your head, visible above the back of the first spectators' bench.

"Do we?" Mr. Martin prodded. When Maddie didn't answer, he repeated, "Do we have any sway over a living person?" And the expression on Mr. Martin's face might've been docile, but there was something beneath it. Something that made Wally uneasy. "Is there something we're not sharing with the group?"

One more there-and-gone glance at you, and Wally interjected, "Uh, speaking of repressed memories..." He leaned down to grab the psychology textbook he'd boosted from the library.

"We're not," Mr. Martin insisted.

Wally ignored him, desperate to take the heat off him, Maddie, and Charley, "Well, we can, so I will." Wally presented the textbook and assured Maddie that, "We're gonna help you get through this, Maddie, okay?" A hand on her back, his eyes sincere. "We're all going to figure it out." Between you and Simon and Xavier in the living world; and he, Charley, Ajay, and, hopefully, Rhonda in the metaphysical world, the odds were in their favor. They'd trigger Maddie's memory and she'd be able to tell you what'd happened to her so you, Simon, and Xavier could go and valiantly retrieve her body like the knights in shining armor you and they were. Wally had faith in that. He had to.

"Thank you, Wally," Maddie said.

What remained of the Group session was rocky and, either defeated or unsettled, Mr. Martin dismissed everyone earlier than he usually did. Before vacating the circle, Wally leaned in to ask Maddie, "Quick question," his voice low to avoid being overheard. She resettled in her seat and slanted toward him, "The day you ended up here...you didn't by any chance drink tea that probably tastes like soap, did you?"

A hundred questions passed over Maddie's expression as she thought about how to respond. It was totally random, but Wally figured it couldn't have hurt to ask. If that tea had drugged you and possibly made fifty to sixty wealthy socialites attend to the whims of a crazy woman, it very well could've been what'd caused Maddie to forget why she'd been in the boiler room in the first place.

Eventually, "No," she said, and she sounded worried about Wally's mental health. "You think her sister snuck into the school to drug me with her favorite herbal sedative?"

"I just wanted to make sure," Wally defended, "And I'm not saying it was my girl's sister. Amelia could've golem'd—"

"Borrowed," Charley chirped as he came to stand in front of them.

Wally backtracked, "Amelia could've borrowed someone's body and slipped it into your drink at lunch or something."

"She could've spiked my odorless, colorless water with something that smells like a thousand grandmothers' perfumes without me noticing?" Now Maddie was grinning, cheeky, a glint in her eye.

Wally groaned, "If you're going to make fun of me for trying to help, I'm gonna find something else to do with my time." His gaze unintentionally slipped to you.

Maddie raised an eyebrow, followed his line of sight and then smirked, "You mean someone."

"Shut up." To get out of the hot seat, Wally stood and collected his backpack. Together with Rhonda, Wally was pleased to note, they left the gym. As they moved down the hall, "I have an idea," Wally announced, "but I need you to bear with me, okay?"

"Alright," Maddie said, and then, semi-curious, semi-concerned, "Why?"

"Hey, you agreed to do whatever weird, kooky thing we want to try, right?" Wally grinned at her, "And I wanna start with those triggers I told you about. First up," he turned toward the cafeteria. Without comment, everyone trailed after him, "Do you remember what your last meal was?"

Maddie's nose scrunched as she tried to recall. "Whatever they served in the caf," she said, albeit unsure.

"Great, we just have to check the menu rotation and we'll go from there." Wally was excited for his experiment. His blood pumped and his brain buzzed similar to how he felt on game days. Jittery, but good jittery. Like he was on his way to do something with purpose.

Charley made a face of disgust, saucily recommending, "If it's whatever they try to pass off as fish, we're skipping it."

"We don't have to eat it." Rhonda said, linking her arm with his. Charley relaxed and a wide smile curved his lips, seeming to enjoy the idea that he could play peanut gallery to Maddie's misery.

Beside Wally, Maddie snapped, "Thanks. Guys. Love the solidarity."

"Oh-ho-ho no," Wally shook his head as he draped his arm across her shoulders and gave her a friendly squeeze, "This isn't about solidarity. We're here to support you and to try to trigger your memories."

"And torture you with the school's trash fish." Charley added gleefully.

Maddie shot him a glare, shoulders drawing inward and mouth twisting in displeasure, "I think I'm good, actually. I don't need to remember anything."

Wally chuckled, "Too late for take-backs, Mads."

"It's never too late," Maddie disagreed, "I take it back. I'm taking it back now."

Wally waltzed ahead and opened the cafeteria door, merrily saying, "You'll be fine. It's not like you can kill a ghost, right?"

The look Maddie leveled him with would've withered a lesser man.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Xavier drove in the direction of the old Meheive estate, the truck quiet except for the drone of the radio. He'd dropped Claire off at her house after the confrontation with his father in the 7-Eleven, and had picked you up outside his house.

Nanna was at the hospital to sit at Ginny's side. Your mother, Alice, was conducting a reiki session at her friend's studio downtown. Aurora had relocated from the guest room to the den where she'd curled up to distract herself with reruns of shitty reality television. There was no one there to care if you and he were gone.

He'd filled you in on the lunchbreak escapade to the sheriff's station; how he and Simon had found a clue that pointed to Nicole. As skeptical as Xavier was, you'd altogether refuted the idea that she could be responsible for Maddie's abduction. However...it made a twisted sort of sense to Xavier.

Simon had described the root of the resentment Nicole could've possibly harbored toward Maddie. Toward Simon. And Xavier saw how that could've led to a tragic outburst that had resulted in Maddie's current predicament. Plus, if it had been Nicole, that could've explained why Maddie's body was still alive somewhere. Maybe Nicole hadn't meant for things to escalate how they had and, heart heavy with guilt, Nicole had undertaken being Maddie's warped Florence Nightingale.

"Maybe..." You allowed, but, "It still doesn't feel right."

"Does any of this?" Xavier returned with a rueful smile.

You snorted, "True."

Twenty minutes later and Xavier turned onto a gated dirt road. The gate itself was dilapidated, yawned open, its iron panels slanted away from the frame as if trying to free themselves from their hinges. He drove carefully down the dirt road, no lights to guide him apart from his high beams. The setting felt spooky, Xavier's blood curdling as he maneuvered around fallen branches and deep pits in the dirt. No lights. Just dark and trees and whatever hid within them.

One would think the town would've maintained the property. A heritage sight owned by the family of one of Split River's founders. Apparently, no one had had the incentive since, when Xavier drove to the apex of the horseshoe driveway, the house itself was completely run down. It had the essence of grandeur in its woodwork and architecture, but he could tell it had long since been abandoned to the elements.

Unlike the school, where Xavier knew ghosts roamed, this place felt truly haunted. It emanated a profound melancholy that was almost physical, cresting into him and raising goosebumps on his skin. The air in the truck chilled considerably and he felt as if a thousand eyes were watching him from every direction.

His whole body itched to turn around and go home, warnings to leave this place impressed between the squiggly folds of his brain. No voice, no distinct words, merely a loud creeping sensation. It was odd, Xavier thought, the feeling like the one people got when they couldn't recall a word they knew. Dangling on the precipice of knowing.

He glanced at you, watched you for a moment as you stared through the passenger window at the front porch. After putting the truck in park, he reached over and took your hand to give it a firm squeeze.

"You ready?" He asked.

You didn't respond. Inhaled a rattled breath and returned the squeeze before opening the truck door to climb out. This couldn't have been easy. Back at the scene of your brother's murder. The last place you'd seen him and in the worst way possible. Xavier's stomach rolled as he got out of the truck, his heart leaden in his chest. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want you to be here.

He didn't have time to dwell on it because, quite suddenly, the world around him flickered. As soon as he joined you on the passenger side of the truck, the house had changed. Not drastically, but enough for Xavier to be alarmed. Its image was pristine. Turrets tall and proud, shingles restored, paintwork smooth.

"What the Jesus Christ is going on?" Xavier muttered in a mixture of awe and fright.

Without looking at him, "Even homes have ghosts if they had enough life made in them," you said, then smiled sadly, "This is how the house is perceived on the other side of the veil."

"Are you telling me we're in the land of the dead right now?"

"There's no life left here, so death moved in." You shrugged, simple as that. Xavier gawped but went with it, not sure if he had the capacity for another magic lesson. Your voice in his head chided him that it's not magic, however, Xavier was having a harder and harder time believing it. A ghost house sounded like something a wizard would say. And wizards? Notorious for wielding magic.

"So, is this how I'm going to see every abandoned property from now on?"

"I think it depends on the property." You jerked your chin at the house and instructed, "Look closer."

Xavier peered at the house, but he didn't know what he was supposed to have been looking f—wait. There. Beneath the reminiscence was the decayed reality. Two images overlayed to create a new composite. A house trapped between life and death. The holes in the roof were visible under the translucent image of perfectly intact shingles. The front steps were eaten away under clean, white planks.

"As cool as this is, I'm ready to hand back my magic powers now," Xavier mumbled.

He shadowed you as you proceeded up the front steps, minding the living-world gaps, before you carelessly trod over the fallen screen door that was also in perfect condition on its hinges. Watching you pull it open while not pulling it open was a trip that made Xavier's head spin. The unnaturalness of it disagreed with his brain.

You hesitated with your hand on the main door's polished-tarnished handle. He saw the struggle on your face. After this, you'd know if Aiden's ghost had lingered or if mercy had been given and he'd crossed over. Neither option brought peace, but, to Xavier at least, the former was worse. The little boy he'd thought of as his brother, trapped and alone, abandoned, neglected, hurt. Those things took a toll that Xavier had felt in fractions. He didn't want to believe Aiden had had to suffer them all at once.

The instant your breathing stuttered and your knuckles whitened on the handle, Xavier took over, wanting to absolve you of the burden. As soon as his skin touched the brass, a chill zipped through his skeleton, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and, against his better judgment, he turned the knob. When you and he stepped over the threshold, the interior flickered as it had outside. Stately and ruined; cozy and cold; marvelous and wasted. The air was thinner, the contrast darker. Xavier hated it instantly. While the mirage was the picture of wealth and classic luxury, the image beneath it spoke of endless horror and despair.

As he'd done at the place on 10th and Lasher, Xavier clasped your hand. For support. For safety. For comfort. For all of the above. He kept you close as you and he crept through the front of the house. Formal living room. Parlor. Games room. Study. He thought he was going crazy when, moving closer to the kitchen, the light began to brighten. When he glanced around, he was mildly surprised to noticed the epoch blend of candleflame and carbon arc light that had manifested.

The jarring clang of an old-fashioned dinner bell spooked you and Xavier, both jumping and releasing frightened gasps. Instinctually, Xavier pinned you to his side, arm secure around your waist. Whether to calm his nerves with your presence or to ensure you wouldn't charge after the noise, Xavier wasn't certain. No further sound came from the kitchen and, gradually, he released you to take cautious steps toward the swinging door. Slowly, he pushed it open a crack and peeked inside.

The kitchen wasn't empty.

With a confidence Xavier admired yet had no wish to emulate, you nudged past him, pushed the door inward, and stepped into the kitchen, stopped midstride when you caught sight of the woman Xavier had noticed. By delayed measures, Xavier skuttled in behind you and watched what you were watching.

The woman was tall, slim, a cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth as she stirred something in a stock pot on the stove. She wore a floral dress with a collar, a string of pearls, and modest heels. Her dark hair was pinned into victory rolls, brushed-out curls falling around her shoulders. She must've been in her mid-forties, at most. And, unlike the ghosts Xavier was acquainted with, she appeared less...solid.

Suddenly, a voice called from the back porch before the door swung open and a man walked in, overalls dusty and face smeared with engine grease. He was in the position to see you and Xavier head-on, but he didn't acknowledge either you nor him. As if you and he didn't exist at all. The man stepped into the woman's space, smacked her ass and made her giggle, then asked what she was serving.

"Stew," She smiled, a dainty thing, and motioned to the cupboards. "Get the bowls, will you Walter? I didn't have time to finish setting the table."

It was all so domestic, as if Xavier had walked into a slice of someone's life. He looked at you to ask if it was normal that the ghosts ignore the living, but you weren't paying attention to the woman or the man. No. Your gaze was fixed on the door opposite the one you and Xavier had entered through. Christ, it was the cellar door; the one that had swallowed everyone into haunted memory.

He heard the creek, felt you stiffen although you weren't touching him, and then a cold breeze ruffled his hair and kissed his skin. The cellar door opened. Xavier's throat closed.

A little boy with features similar to yours emerged, clutching a stuffed lion to his chest. Spiderman rainboots. Brilliant, seafoam eyes.

"Oh my God." Xavier croaked and once again grabbed your hand. Appearing behind Aiden was a tall, broad-shouldered military man with eyes and a smile that Xavier had seen at school earlier. Christopher, Xavier knew, still in his uniform, and, fuck, the resemblance between Christopher and Maddie was uncanny.

Seeming to not know you were there, Aiden skipped to the stove and grinned up at the woman, asking in a voice Xavier had missed, "Is it ready, Martha?"

The woman, Martha, smiled down at him and ruffled his hair, "Go sit at the table, there's a good boy."

Contrary to the Aiden Xavier remembered, his ghost obliged, spinning on his heel and reaching for Christopher's outstretched hand. Before their hands made contact, Aiden turned his head and froze. Christopher seemed to pause as well, but he didn't indicate that he saw what Aiden appeared to see. He merely dropped his hand and disappeared into the adjacent room through the open entryway.

Xavier snuck a glimpse at you just in time to catch you as you wilted sideways, your legs giving out from under you when Aiden turned his body to fully face you and Xavier. Freaking out himself, Xavier tried to keep it together for your sake, yet couldn't completely dispel the hoperagegrief slushing in his gut. Aiden was here. Trapped in the place he'd been murdered with the man whose body had been used to murder him. Xavier choked on a dry sob, his hold on you too tight.

"Sissy May!" Aiden squealed after several beats of eerie silence. It was as if he'd come to, roused by your thereness. He charged across the kitchen, one arm wide while the other clasped the stuff lion. He was all grins and elephant stomps, tiny body a torpedo of excitement and energy. This was the Aiden that Xavier remembered.

You peeled yourself away from Xavier and sunk to your knees in time to catch Aiden in your arms, almost knocked back by the force of his momentum. He'd always been small for his age, but what he lacked in size he more than made up for in strength. He wrung his arm around you, face tucked into your neck, squealing in delight as you crushed him against you. Xavier heard the strained intake of breath, the impeded expire, as you held your brother for the first time in six years.

It was rare that you allowed Aiden to cling to you how he was. You'd complained and moaned whenever he'd tried to cuddle in the past. Xavier supposed things were different now. He could feel your regret and remorse as if it was an extension of himself. Regardless of which memory you had in your head, you'd always felt responsible for what'd happened to Aiden. It was a miracle you'd learned how to smile again. Xavier didn't think he would've been capable had it been him in your place.

"I'm so sorry, Aiden," You whimpered into Aiden's hair, voice thick with emotion, "God, I'm so sorry. I should've listened. I should've helped. I'm so sorry."

As you held your brother, Xavier teetering to his knees beside you to put his hand on Aiden's back—solid, there—people, phantoms, silvery and indifferent, drifted into the kitchen. From the back door, through the swinging door, up from the cellar. Ten, eleven, twelve. Their images thin as smoke. None indicated that you and Xavier held space in the kitchen. They floated toward the entry to the adjacent room, the vision of them taken in and let out again as they passed by and through each other. These were not ghosts as Xavier had come to understand them.

"Is that normal?" Xavier whispered, unable to bring himself to speak louder.

You spared a glance at the door, watched the last few ghosts disappear into the adjoining room. "Yeah," you sniffed, wiped your eyes on the back of your hand. You didn't release Aiden. "Yeah, it's normal. They're loopers in a place where life doesn't interfere. Whatever life they keep reliving is fading away as the memory of them in the living world does."

A shiver crept down Xavier's back. "The loopers at school don't look like that..."

"The loopers at school are surrounded by people. The purpose behind their loop is mirrored in the living world. The school still needs them."

So, the band kids still practiced exercises because the school still had a band; and the theater girl, wherever she'd gone, had continued to keep the theater safe because plays were still performed on that stage... Xavier wanted to get it, he really did, but there was too much process and his mind was fixed on Aiden. Aiden and Christopher who weren't translucent and smoky.

He didn't ask after it, though. He couldn't bring himself to. Part of him wanted desperately to pretend you and he could just gather Aiden up and take him home where he belonged.

"Are you and Zavvy here for supper?" Aiden asked as he pulled back from you, eyes gleaming.

Xavier choked.

You must've, too, because you barely breathed as you answered, "We...we can't, Aidie." And it broke Xavier's heart to hear you. "Maybe next time?"

Aiden pouted at a point on your shirt, low lip stuck all the way out. "You never wanna hang out with me," he complained and, fuck, Xavier knew that had to have struck you like a knife.

Forcing his heartache down, Xavier said, "We need to take a look around the property. It might take awhile." Aiden scrunched up his nose and gave a look of disgust, as if doing anything that boring should be banned. "Maybe you could help?"

Aiden immediately brightened, "How can I do that?"

You gave Xavier a grateful smile, small but there. You told Aiden, "We're trying to find symbols." In the grime on the kitchen floor, through the image of the sparkling checkered tile, you drew one of the symbols Ajay had shown you at the school, "Kind of like this. Have you seen any?"

Aiden's face contorted in concentration as he studied the symbol. He crouched, the noodly legs and tail of his stuffed lion scraping lines in the thick layer of dust on the floor. With his teeny finger, he drew a similar symbol. And then another. And another. He gave you a big grin when he finished, proud of himself for helping.

"This one," He pointed to the first, "is on a tree." He pointed to the second, "This one is in Henry's barn. Next to the tractor." He pointed to the third, "This one is in a rock at the pond."

You weren't even looking at the symbols, your eyes on Aiden, the sadness in them knocking the wind from Xavier's lungs. He reached over and scooped your hand into his once more, squeezed, released you and then wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

"That's great, buddy. Can you show us?"

Just as Aiden was about to answer, a voice cut through the air.

"Aiden, it's time for supper," Martha said sweetly, "You have to come sit down now."

A frail whimper punched out of you. Your arms rose a fraction before you thought better of grabbing your brother, and then you lowered them. Xavier pulled you closer, helped you to your feet, and curled around you when you turned into him to press your face to his shoulder.

"Zav." A puncturing sound as you began to shake.

When Xavier swept his gaze away from you, Aiden was already at the door, taking Martha's hand to let her lead him into the adjoining room. So proper and contained. So unlike Aiden.

"We need to see how many of them are in there," Xavier said gently, rubbing your back. "I can do it myself if you want to stay here." You nodded into his shoulder. He brushed your hair back, cradled your face in his hands and forced you to look at him as he spoke, "I'll be right back, okay? Just wait here."

You turned away, out of his arms, and held yourself up on the end of the counter, sucking in slow, measured breaths. Xavier mustered his resolve and moved to the open entryway, lingering there for a moment before stepping into the informal dining room. It was as grand as the rest of the house, the table large and long, every seat filled. From what he could discern, the ghosts ranged from young to old, Aiden being the youngest by at least a decade, and the oldest being a man with muttonchops and an outdated brown tweed suit. They spanned the decades, as early as the '40s. Maybe '50s. Xavier wasn't exactly familiar with vintage fashion, but he'd seen enough of your silver screen classics to identify it.

You were huddled on the floor with your head on your knees when Xavier returned. "Fifteen. At least in there. There could be others around, right?"

"I doubt it," You said as you stood. "It feels like they're in synch. Like their loops have been altered to fit into a set schedule."

"You can feel that?"

You chuckled, again wiping your eyes with your fingers, "No, nothing like that. It just... I dunno, they all came in for supper at the sound of the bell. That's weird. Loops are individual, but they're sitting at a table at 8PM on a Monday having dinner. Eating Martha's stew."

"What're you thinking?" Xavier asked.

"Nothing yet," You sighed. You fished your phone out of your pocket and snapped a picture of the quickly-fading symbols Aiden had drawn on the floor. "What I can say for sure is that if those ghosts are fading, Amelia's gonna want to do her ritual sooner than later."

Xavier gulped, "How soon?"

"I don't know," You said honestly, casting a glance at the entry to the dining room, "but with everything else we know, I'd guess within the next few weeks."

Fuck.

Before Xavier could express his concern, he felt his phone vibrate. A message from Simon about Nicole. He shuffled into your side so you could read along with him, both you and he sharing equally stunned looks at the end.

"Not what I was expecting," Xavier admitted.

"You really thought she was hiding Maddie's body in her basement?"

Xavier had the decency to convey his remorse, "I mean, I wasn't ruling anything out, okay?"

You rolled your eyes, "Like father, like son."

"Hey. That's disgusting. I can't believe you'd insult me like that." Xavier glared without heat, knocking his shoulder against yours, angling for a smile. When one appeared on your face, he grinned wider, relieved that you were handling Aiden's presence in the house better than Xavier had imagined you would.

"Come on, kiddo," Xavier said softly, "We got what we needed. We should go." He checked the time on his phone, "If it's already 8, we're gonna need to head back now or we won't make it before my dad gets home."

The drive home was entirely silent until somewhere around the halfway point. You'd been lost in thought, likely sinking deeper and deeper into the fractured memory of the last time you'd been in the farmhouse. Xavier had an old CD blaring through the speakers that you turned down just as the truck past the Welcome to Split River sign.

He shot you a quick look of confusion, doubting it was the music that'd inspired your action, "What's up?"

"Zav..." You started and, Jesus, you sounded the same way you had when you'd failed your History exam last year; like you were expecting the executioner. Xavier showed you he was listening by tapping your arm with the backs of his fingers, eyes on the road. "We need to stop at my house."

"What for?"

From the corner of his eye, Xavier saw you pan your head toward him and suddenly the hair on his arms stood on end. "Aiden didn't have Limon when he died..."

💀___________________________

PART FIVE - PART SEVEN

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

#Milo Manheim #Wally Clark #Wally Clark x Reader #fem!reader #Wally Clark smut #Wally Clark fanfiction #Milo Manheim fanfiction #School Spirits #zed necrodopolis #Disney Zombies #October Moon

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