#also she understood that having all of that daniel energy and attention focused on Her was like. ah yes. the sun (positive)

[variousqueerthings]

sometimes think about amanda from the perspective of the kinds of guys that usually become obsessed with daniel, and i dont mean by that that she was bullying him or threatening him (although I do believe in amanda ribbing daniel, she needs to want to put him in his place a little), but that she's also a very forceful personality who perhaps felt a bit jarred by the amount of space that daniel just naturally takes up, and i like to think that she felt a very similar kind of "I don't know what's up with this guy, but I want to do something to him" feeling to his usual rivals, it's just that she was smart enough to know that it was fuck his brains out, and also she's not evil about it (unless they've discussed it beforehand)

(that being said, if amanda were evil...)

[dp-marvel94]

The Mystery Shack Spooks- Part 3

For Holiday Truce 2020

Summary:  Elle Fenton had hoped for a normal summer, a chance to make normal friends with people who know nothing about her crazy family, ghosts, or, most importantly, her status as a clone. But ghosts always seem to find her, even in Gravity Falls. Now the Mystery Shack is haunted by a unknown apparition with an unknown connection to Dipper and Mabel, and to Elle herself. The half ghost struggles to open up to her new friends and to find a way to help this lonely ghost.

Part 1 -> Part 2 -> Part 3(Here) -> Part 4 -> Part 5

Also on AO3 and fanfiction.net

The half ghost sat, waiting on her bed and hoping that the Shack's mysterious ghost would reappear. Sadness swirled in her heart as the scene replayed in her head- the panic, the desperation as the misty figure begged to be seen. Why did he react that extremely, that devastated? She puzzled over Dipper’s explanation. Maybe that was correct; the ghost was upset about still being unseen and unheard. But there had to be more, didn’t there? It was almost like….he was upset that Dipper and Mabel couldn’t see him specifically. 

The half ghost’s frowned. The ghost…he’d been moving Dipper and Mabel’s things. He’d latched on to her because she could see him but he’d first started with moving the twins’ things and following them…. almost like he was trying to get their attention, But why? 

Wait... It's me, he’d said to Dipper. Like the boy should have recognized the ghost, like he knew him. But, how could he? If the twins closely knew someone who’d died, wouldn’t they have brought up the idea that their loved one was trying to get their attention from beyond the grave? 

Unless…Elle’s eyes widened. Unless they thought it was impossible for him could come back because…. The half ghost’s breath caught in her throat as pieces slid together. He…the boy had died…maybe died… in the Mystery Shack. He was about her and Dipper and Mabel’s age. His name started with a T. But…no, that’s-

Elle’s heart stopped, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. Back at the beginning when Dipper’s journal went missing, she’d…she’d asked who the figure was, and he’d shown the copier in the book. The Copier meaning….No, it couldn’t be…but….The ghost’s height, it…it matched Dipper’s exactly. And the brief coloration she’s seen- white and blue like Dipper’s hat and vest. Oh god, he even paced like Dipper did. 

“Tyrone.” She whispered. “Oh my god. He’s Tyrone.”

No, the half ghost shook her head. No, that was impossible. It couldn’t be…he couldn’t be. A clone made out of paper, who’d been alive for all of a few hours. There couldn’t have been enough emotion, enough sense of self to form a ghost. But…the clone had helped to choose his own name, part of her argued. That required a degree of independence, a sense of himself as different from Dipper Pines. So maybe he was Tyrone. Maybe a magically created paper clone had managed to be reborn as a ghost. She bit her lip. Maybe…. maybe she should tell Dipper and Mabel her idea….

No, the girl bit her lip. She shouldn’t get their hopes up. If she was right, this would be an incredible miracle. But if she was wrong….Dipper’s wavered voice and downcast eyes as he talked about losing Tyrone rang in her head…if she was wrong, this would crush them. But maybe she could get proof.

Talking a deep breath, she stood. “Hey, if you’re here…” She looked up at the ceiling. “I think…I think I know who you are. You’re…you’re Tyrone, Dipper’s clone.”

Silence.

“Are you there?” She called.

Nothing. Elle sighed. Was he ignoring her? Or… he had used a lot of energy to make the lights flicker, float objects, and freeze the floor (Elle had ice powers so she knew how tiring that was). Maybe he didn’t have enough power to appear even to her.

“Okay. If…if you are Tyrone, can you give me some sigh? Or…show up so I can talk to you?”

No response. “Alright then. I’m gonna go to bed.”

Elle tossed and turned for a while, struggling to sleep without her answer but none came.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The half ghost girl blinked awake to sunlight streaming through her window. She groaned sleepily and went to bury her head back in her pillow when the sound of something heavy falling to the floor rang through the room. Suddenly startled, the girl sat up.

In the middle of the room and suspiciously far from any furniture was a thick, heavy book. Beside the object, a misty blue and white figure floated for a second before flickering out of existence.

“Are you avoiding me now?” The girl rubbed her eyes. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t ask you if you wanted to see Dipper and Mabel. I probably should have and I get why you’d be upset if you’re…..” She trailed off, the lack of response deepening her frown. “Come out and talk to me, please. I…I just want to know if you are... who I think you are.”

The room remained silent, except for the flutter of paper on the desk. Stupid window must be….Elle looked to window, eyes widening. It was closed.

Heart pounding, the girl leapt to her feet. She practically ran to the desk. It was covered with the normal mix of knick knacks and school supplies but…there was a colorful piece of paper that hadn’t been there yesterday. With shaking hands, the half ghost picked the piece up. It was white cardstock covered with green pine trees, probably a Christmas themed piece from Mabel’s art and craft stock. In thick black marker, it read ‘Tyrone.’

Elle’s brain short circuited for a moment as she stared at the paper. What was…what did…how… The paper dropped through her fingers and into the desk. She whipped around, eyes hungrily searching for a blurry figure.

“Tyrone. You’re Tyrone. Dipper’s Tyrone. You’re….” She ran a hand through her hair. “I…I can’t believe this. How…how did this even happen? I mean I know how but…”

The girl blinked for a long moment as an insubstantial apparition appeared in front of her. Despite his flickering, translucent body and pale blue tint covering his figure, the ghost wore a surprisingly familiar looking appearance. As a clone, he looked almost exactly like Dipper, complete with the typical vest and hat, though Tyrone’s hat bore the number 2 instead of a picture of a pine tree.

Elle’s mouth fell open. “I can see you.”

The ghost boy frowned (frowned! As in she could actually see his mouth to see his frown!) and gave her an exacerbated look.

Elle shook her head. “No. Your face, I can actually see your face!”

Tyrone pursed his lips in confusion for a moment before his eyes widened in understanding. He opened his mouth and excited sounding static exited.

That sobered the half ghost. “Your voice still sounds like a broken TV though.”

He frowned, crossing his arms. Clearly, he was displeased. A sliver of sadness tugged at her heart too but she could actually see him! 

Elle marched forward. “I mean…I wish we could actually talk with words, but I can actually see your facial expressions now! I can read your body language. I could…I could learn to read your lips or we could learn sign language…or…”

Tyrone’s eyes lit up at the last suggestion, a smile stretching across his face as he nodded enthusiastically.

The half ghost grinned. “Man you’re…you’re actually him. You’re Tyrone, Dipper’s clone.” Her eyes widened, a realization filling her with awe. “You’re a clone, like I am.”

The boy nodded but there was no shock, no surprise.

Elle stumbled towards her bed, the weight of what she’d said hitting her. She’d feared even uttering the word clone in front of Dipper or Mabel but… she’d just spit it out. The girl glanced up at the other ghost. And Tyrone wasn’t even shocked. 

The half ghost put a hand on her head. “You already know. You heard me after…after I found out about the copier.”

Static buzzed for his answer, but Elle knew it was a yes. To her surprise, the conformation didn’t make her feel nervous or exposed. Instead…her core hummed with some emotion she couldn’t place.

Tyrone drifted forward, shifting in the air until he was floating crossed legged at her eyes level. He focused compassionate eyes on her. You’re like me. He said and this time she understood. Not just because that was the first thing he’d said to her that she understood. Instead….she knew the meaning. They were both ghosts. They were both clones, supposed copies of someone else but they were not alone.

Elle’s core purred in her chest and she subtly smiled. This was part of the reason he’d warmed up to her and she’d become comfortable with him so quickly. There was a connection she hadn’t recognized until now. A kinship she’d felt since….

The other clones, her first brothers were still alive. Her face fell at the thought, at the memories. Playing with tag with Tiny. Watching the clouds with Bones. Petting the cat that wandered the garden with Muscles. Sitting on the floor reading to the prime clone, Daniel.

Something cold brushed against her arm, drawing her attention. She looked up, registering the mostly insubstantial hand on her arm. She met the other clone’s eyes. ‘What?’ He mouthed.

Elle shook her head. “It’s just…I haven’t talked to another clone since…since the others were still around but…they’re all gone now. It’s just me.”

Tyrone’s eyes softened in understanding. ‘Same.’ He looked down, expression full of sorrow.

The half ghost startled at the answer before nodding. “Right. You weren’t the only one either.” There had been nine or ten others and….she paled at thought….he’d seen all them melt, barely escaping that fate just to meet his demise minutes later.

Tyrone seemed to be thinking about the same thing, a queasy look on his face.

The girl sighed. “It’s okay now.” She gave her best comforting smile. “We’re both here. We both survived.”

The other ghost blanched at the thought, looking questioningly down at his translucent body. He then pinned her with a raised eyebrow.

 “Yeah, you…that. But…” Elle shook her head. “You came back. Most people don’t.” 

She looked down. Very few people came back as ghosts but…. (The other clones, maybe they could too. Maybe they were out there somewhere, waiting. If one of Dipper’s clones became a ghost… a jab of jealousy…. Why hadn’t any of her clone brothers come back to her?) No, Elle forced the dangerously intoxicating thoughts down. This wasn’t about her and her lost siblings. 

The corner of her lip turned up as she forced her voice to sound lite. “Besides, being a ghost isn’t that bad. You’ve got cool powers and you…uhhh…more durable than before.” The girl smiled sheepishly, unsure if she should have said that as soon as it left her mouth.

Across from her, Tyrone shivered. Then he gave a rye smile and said something equally sheepish. Elle tilted her head in question and he tried again, carefully enunciating the words. The girl watched his mouth. Was he saying ‘can’t melt now’? He repeated the words a third time and Elle was sure.

She fought not to grimace. Well….that wasn’t actually true. Ghosts could melt as she well knew but…she wasn’t exactly going to tell him that right now. Instead, she shrugged uncertainly. “Yeah. Water can’t actually hurt you now.”

The boy let out a relieved breath for a moment before his shoulder’s fell. More static exited his mouth. The half ghost continued to patiently study him until the other ghost again realized she couldn’t understand him. 

With a huff, he uncrossed his legs and floated around the room, looking for something. He paused at one of the end tables as Elle came to stand beside him. The ghost boy reached for a strip of photos on the desk and then gritted his teeth as his fingers passed through. An intense look of concentration crossed his face (it reminded Elle greatly of Dipper yesterday) and he reached again. It took several tries but he managed to pick up the pictures. 

Elle tilted her head. It was a line of photo booth pictures she had taken with the twins at the arcade. Tyrone pointed at the two siblings with his free hand.

“Dipper and Mabel?” She questioned. 

The boy nodded. In that moment, his concertation lapsed and the pictures fell through his hand. He groaned in displeasure.

Elle bent down to take the paper, studying it. Then she looked at the other ghost again. “What about Dipper and Mabel?”

Tyrone frowned. Deliberately, he pointed at each twin. Then he shook his head, covering his ears and then his eyes.

“Oh.” Elle also frowned. “They still can’t see or hear you.”

The ghost nodded, a deep sadness in his eyes. The half ghost felt a similar sadness. Though she now knew that the ghost haunting the shack was Tyrone and could see him, he was still invisible to everyone else. He can’t show himself or talk to Dipper and Mabel. It was almost he wasn’t even here. Except that he was. 

Tyrone had come back as a ghost and Elle didn’t know the true extent of his relationship to the twins. She didn’t know what he actually thought of Dipper especially. And she didn’t know what the twins actually thought about him, how they would react if he showed up again. But…

She remembered Dipper’s sadness talking about Tyrone melting, Mabel’s uncharacteristic soberness during that conversation. She remembered last night- Tyrone begging and crying in front of them. Please, it’s me. I’m right in front of you. He wanted to connect with them, didn’t he? But he couldn’t do that alone.

“We’ll figure something out.” Elle ran a hand through her hair. “But for now, what am I gonna tell Dipper and Mabel?”

Tyrone’s eyes widened, a panicked look crossing his face. He vigorously shook his head.

The girl stared at him. “Tyrone. I figured out who you are. I can actually see you. I have to tell them something.”

The ghost boy continued to shake his head exaggeratedly. 

Elle raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want me to tell them?”

His voice buzzed as panicked static and she didn’t need to understand the words to know he was saying no.

The girl held out her hands. “Why not? I saw how upset you got last night. You want to talk to them. And…I think they’d want to talk to you too.” She said that last part with less certainty but it was true, right?

At some point, the ghostly clone had started pacing. He stopped to stare at her. He waved his arms, motioning to his mouth.

Elle scowled before catching. “You can’t talk to them…and they can’t see you.” Her lips turned down.

Tyrone nodded, more static popping. Some words broke through the noise. “Can’t see…how can…like not here….and….can’t break their hearts….”

“You don’t want to hurt them.” The half ghost said softly.

The boy confirmed with a nod.

Elle frowned. “But..” She started to argue.

Tyrone floated forward, holding up his hands. He closed his eyes, concentrating before he opened his mouth. “Please, wait until we figure this out.” He motioned to his still insubstantial form. 

“They could help us with that, if they knew.” She argued.

He still shook his head, before biting his lip. “No, I’m…not ready…..” There was a long pause when the half ghost thought he wouldn’t say anything else. “I’m…Just a copy. Aren’t I? But….I don’t know…what will they think of me?” The last words rang with doubt and fear but somehow they were more real and solid than anything she’d heard from him.

Elle frowned, trying to make sense of the words. Except they made too much sense. She knew all the self-worth issues that came with being a clone, all the fear of people knowing what a freak you are, not being ready to face the truth. Or…maybe she was projecting what she felt on to him. Maybe he wasn’t feeling insecure because of his clone status. Maybe he was just afraid of hurting Dipper and Mabel and being physically unable to comfort them.

After long consideration, the half ghost sighed. “Alright. I won’t tell them. But we’ll find a way for them to see and hear you. And then you’ll have to face them.”

Tyrone swallowed nervously but nodded in agreement. Then he offered her a half-smile and a mouthed ‘Thank you,’ before he disappeared, leaving Elle to get dressed and go downstairs for breakfast.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maybe agreeing not to tell Dipper or Mabel about Tyrone was a bad idea, Elle thought ruefully. The fair had come early this year and she was supposed to be having fun with the twins. Mabel was talking about their time travel adventure last year, gushing about how she won Waddles and chuckling about how Dipper kept hitting Wendy in the eyes with a baseball, to the boy’s groaning. 

“Yeah, we never figured out what that time anomaly thing was.” The female twin shrugged. 

“Mabel, that was us.” Dipper stated flatly.

“That’s just silly bro. Us, cause a time anomaly. Psh.” She waved her hand flippantly. Dipper rolled his eyes, exacerbated. Elle wasn’t sure if Mabel was being serious or not but before she could say anything, the other girl’s eyes widened. “Candy! Grenda!”

As Mabel ran off to meet her friends, Elle sighed, and Dipper’s smile fell. A moment later, he looked at the other teen and sighed. “So…what do you want to do?”

Elle shrugged, frowning. “I don’t know. Whatever.” 

If she was honest, she wasn’t in the mood for fun, not after this morning. She was feeling blue and Dipper didn’t seem to be doing much better. Elle had noticed it as soon as she saw him at breakfast this morning. The tension in his shoulders, the bags under his sunken eyes, the way he kept wringing his hands. He looked like he had barely slept, deeply bothered by something. 

“How about we go get some food?” The boy offered halfheartedly.

“Sure.” Elle agreed, her thoughts away from her friend’s sour mood. 

The pair walked to one of the food trucks, ordering cheeseburgers, fries, and cans of Pit Cola. They sit down to eat at a picnic table, beside some of the older teens.

Elle listlessly picked at her food, while passively watching people pass by their table. Across from her, Dipper was in a similar mood, his eyes fixed down while he nibbled at his fries. He remained silent which was fine with Elle; she wasn’t in a talking mood today either. 

If she’s been in a better mood, she might have wondered about what was bothering him and asked about it. But instead, her head remained filled with her own troubled thoughts. She couldn’t stop thinking about Tyrone who was in the Shack somewhere, still invisible. Elle sighed. She knew his name now but what did that matter? She still had no idea how to actually help him.

A blue tinted figure drew Elle’s attention away. She looked up, her frown deepening. There in the attic window was Tyrone. He was watching them with one hand on the window; even from this distance she could make out the sad look in his eyes. 

“What are you looking at?” The living boy across from her asked, startling her.

Elle whipped to look at him. A moment later, she recognized the question. “Oh…our ghostly friend.” It wasn’t a lie, technically, right? “He’s in the window of your bedroom.” She looked back up and pointed, causing the boy to swivel around to see and then frowned. “Or he was.” Tyrone had disappeared in second she looked away.

“Oh.” Dipper frowned. “What was he doing?”

“Just looking out the window. Watching the fair I guess.” She shrugged, trying to sound unbothered. But she was bothered. He was watching them, with the expression of someone on the outside looking in.

Despite her efforts, the boy mostly likely picked up on the unease anyway. “He must be really lonely.”

“Yeah.” The girl nodded, putting her arms around herself. Jazz had said as much earlier and Elle herself thought that was well. She shivered. “No one being able to see and hear you must be horrible.”

Dipper swallowed. “It is. It’s awful.” 

The sureness of the statement giving her pause, Elle blinked at him in surprise. “You sound...very sure about that.”

The boy’s shoulders rose, and he paled, looking like he’d been caught. Then a deep look of consideration covered his face. He looked around cautiously. “There’s a reason for that.” He lowered his voice. “We shouldn’t talk about it here.”

With that, the boy stood. He grabbed his food and Elle followed with her own food as he led her away from the picnic tables. With another cautious glance, he darted behind one of the game stales. With a food truck to their backs and the back of the stall in front of them, it formed a secluded little alley away from listening ears.

Dipper took a seat, slumping into the grass. He bit his lip, mulling over something silently before meeting her eyes. “I..I kinda know what it’s like to be a ghost.”

Elle frowned in surprise. “What?”

The boy opened and closed his mouth, searching for words. He nervously rubbed one of his arms. “I…When Bill Cipher possessed me, I got kicked out of my own body. While that demon,” His voice pitched up in anger at the word, before dipping down in sadness. “was tramping around in my body. I was just floating there. I couldn't touch anything. And no one could see or hear me. I yelled in people’s ears, waved in their faces but…nothing.” He looked at his hands. “It’s like…I didn’t even exist. I wasn’t even there, like I was a….”

“A ghost.” The girl’s eyes lit up in understanding. “It’s like you were a ghost.”

Dipper nodded. “It was horrible. I felt so…helpless. Cipher was running around, doing whatever he wanted to do to me and I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t get anyone to help me, because they couldn’t see me. It was…one of the most horrible things that's ever happened to me.” He almost whispered that last part before shaking his head. “It turned out okay though. I possessed one of Mabel’s sock puppets to talk to her and she helped get the demon out of me.” Elle’s eyes widened at the last part, wanting to ask more about that story but Dipper continued before she could. “But the point is…I was stuck like that for a few hours and it was awful. But the ghost in the Shack…he’s been like that for who knows how long.”

Elle shook her head, considering the words. “I can’t even imagine that. Well…Well no, I can...” 

The boy gave her a curious look and the girl pinched her mouth shut. She didn’t want to bring that up, not right now, not when it could lead to…other revelations but….she met Dipper’s eyes. He’d already spilled deep secrets to her. He trusted her, repeatedly, and she still remained closed off. 

Elle hazarded a cautious glance at Dipper. "I...uhh….I have something to tell you about..." She rubbed the back of her neck. "About why I can see the ghost but no one else can. It's uhhh.. it's not because I've been living above a ghost portal."

The boy seemed to pick up on her somber tone, his frowning deepening. "What do you mean? Is there no portal?"

The halfa wrung her hands. "No, I mean…Mom and Dad do have a portal and it is in our basement. So I have been living above it but… I know what's not why I can see the ghost."

"Then why?"

Elle could hardly believe she was saying this, she was trying to confess this as she stammered. "I...uhh...I..umm… it's...it's complicated and weird. And...I'm … I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier but I thought...well.. it's silly but…" Her voice quieted. "Please don't be mad."

Dipper's expression softened. "Elle, it's okay. You can tell me whatever it is."

The girl took a breath and closed her eyes. She braced herself. She would say it. She was gonna actually say it and it would be fine because she could trust Dipper and he'd believe her and...She spit out the words. "I'm half ghost."

There was a long moment of silence when the other teen didn't react. Tentatively, she peaked her eyes open and took in his bewildered expression.

"What?" He finally said.

"I'm half ghost." Elle forced the words out again. "That's why I can see the Shack's ghost, 'cause I'm one too." She glanced up, meeting Dipper's still confused gaze, before looking down again. She then continued as the other boy remained silent. “So yeah...I’ve got all the typical powers. I can turn invisible.” In demonstration, her hand disappeared. “Intangible.” Her hand took on a bluish tint before she passed it into the ground. “Make ectoblasts.” Pulling her hand back up, she summoned neon green energy into her palm. “I can do ice too and float but those are….uhh...harder in this form….”

She trailed off at the end, blushing under Dipper’s slack jawed stare. The girl bit her lip. Had she gone too fast? Should she have explained better? Should she transform? No that was a stupid idea. This was stupid idea. Stupid! She just broke her friend. He probably thought-

“You’re a ghost.” Dipper’s uncharacteristically quiet voice cut through her growing panic. “You’re a ghost. I can’t believe this.” His voice was quickly growing in volume as he spoke faster. “In the Shack, right under our noses the whole time. You told me...you told me your parents are ghost experts. And...you’ve gone through the ghost portal.... Earlier, I thought I saw your eyes glow like that.” His eyes flickered between her face and her still lit hand as he pointed. “You’ve really a ghost which means you’re…” His speech slowed as his eyes widened, shining with sadness. “You’re dead.” He practically leapt to his feet, waving his arms. “You’re dead. You’ve been dead this entire time. You’re-”

“Dipper! Stop!” Elle cut the boy off as she rose to her feet and extinguished her ectoenergy. She grabbed one of his arms. “I’m not dead.” 

The boy suddenly stopped, jaw falling again. "But.. you just said you were a ghost."

"I'm half ghost." She corrected pointedly.

"Half ghost?" Dipper questioned.

Elle blew out a breath at her friend's lingering confusion. “Yeah, Half ghost and half human. I’m a...human-ghost hybrid.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I am a ghost but I’m a human too. And…. I’m not dead…”

The boy continued to study her, his expression equal parts confused and distressed. “But...how can you be both? Ghosts are the spirits of dead people and you’re…” He looked down at her hand that was still around his wrists. “You’re solid and warm and..you’re breathing but…” He pulled away. “Are you possessed? Is this you trying to tell me you’re possessed because if you are-”

Elle cut him off again. “Dipper, I’m not possessed. These are my powers.” Again, she demonstrated, deliberately turning a hand invisible. “See. I’m doing this. There isn’t a ghost controlling me. It’s just...this is just me.” The boy said nothing, staring at her hand. Elle bit her lip. “Maybe….I should transform. That might help you understand.”

Dipper’s eyes flickered back up to her face. “Transform?”

“Yeah uhh...into my ghost form. Since I have a human form.” She motioned down her body. “And a ghost form.” 

The boy nodded, seeming to follow what she was saying even if the blank look suggested he still had no idea what she meant.

Elle took a step back. “Okay. So...there’s this light that's gonna form around me and I’ll change. You...uhh...might not want to look directly at me. It’s bright.”

With another nod from the other teen, the half ghost summoned the ring of light. Dipper’s eyes widened at the sight and remained fixed even as the light moved across Elle’s form. The light passed Elle’s head, stealing the breath from her lungs. A moment later, the familiar chill and weightlessness enveloped her, leaving the girl floating in ghost form a few inches above the ground.

As Dipper hadn’t looked away, he squinted at her, blinking the spots from his vision. After what felt like minutes but was really seconds, he focused on her face again. “Elle?” He took a tentative step forward. “Is that really you?”

The girl nodded. “Yeah. I know I kinda look different but… it’s still me.”

The boy took another cautious step forward, the shocked look on his face morphing into awe. “Wow. You do look so different.” Elle frowned, shifting nervously in the air. Dipper shook his head, noticing her reaction. “No, I mean...you look so different from the other ghost I’ve seen. You’re not see-through at all. You look solid…” He reached a hand forward. “Can I...uh… touch you?”

The girl blushed. “Uh...sure?” She put an arm forward and let Dipper take it.

His eyes lit up. “You are solid but...you’re so cold.” His lips turned down. “And you’re not...you’re not dead?”

Elle shook her head. “No. I even still have a heartbeat in this form. Here if you press down on my pulse point, you should feel it.”

With a hum, the boy did so. Slowly, he smiled, his voice ringing with relief. “You do.” 

“Yeah.” Elle gently removed her arm from his grasp. “So not dead. Or half dead. Or anything like that.”

Dipper blinked. “But then how...how are you like this?”

The girl paled. “Well that’s...that’s complicated.” She bit her lip, again shifting nervously.

The other teen stepped back. “Oh...sorry. Sorry if that’s personal. You don’t have to tell me.” Clearly he’d picked up on her discomfort but despite the words, Elle could still see the pure curious interest in his eyes.

The half ghost sighed. “No...I wanna tell you but...it’s hard to talk about and…” 

Dipper’s expression softened. “It’s okay.”

Elle shook her head. “I’ll just say...I was in a bad place with a bad person. That bastard. I was…I was an experiment to him. He hurt me and…” She swallowed. “And other people too.” She clenched and unclenched her fists, thinking about the other clones. “He tried to get me to help him. I...I should’ve died. I should be dead.” Dipper’s eyes widened in alarm at the statement but she continued. “I almost died but...Danny saved me.” A small smile spread across her face at the statement.

“Danny?” The boy raised a brow. “You mean your brother?”

The half ghost blinked, realizing what she said. “Yeah...I guess I should mention….Danny’s half ghost like me.”

“Your brother’s...half ghost?” He put a hand on his head. “But how..wait, is this genetic or something?”

“Or something.” Elle shrugged, trying to avoid the topic. “Anyway, Danny’s half ghost too and he saved my life. He got me out of that place or...guess we helped each other escape really. But still...I would have probably died that day without him.” Her face fell at the last part, remembering Vlad’s hate filled face, how the man would have driven her to the point of destabilization if Danny hadn’t refused to fight her. She swallowed. “And...I got really sick after that.” She shivered, the memory of her body numb and dripping green fashed in her mind. Those dark, cold nights when her body was threatening to fall apart and she’d feared that she’d died there on the streets. But- “Danny found a way to make me better. He...he saved me. He saved my life, again. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.” In more ways than one, she thought almost ruefully. But she smiled fondly anyway. 

Dipper frowned for a long moment, taking in all she said. “Wow, that’s...that’s a lot. That sounds really awful.”

“Yeah. It sucked.” Elle rubbed the back of her neck. “But everything’s okay now.” Which was true for the most part. “I’m healthy. That fruitloop is out of my life. I’ve got an incredible family and…” She smiled very deliberately at Dipper. “I finally have friends.”

The boy blushed at the attention, though he also smiled. “Yeah, friends. And...I’m happy things are better for you know.”

Elle sighed, feeling happiness at his agreement along with a sense of relief. She’d shared the barest hint of all she’d gone through but it felt good to say at least a portion of it. Although...she looked back at Dipper who was looking at her thoughtfully.Her stomach flopped as she wondered what he was thinking. 

“You’re taking this well.” She said, slightly skeptically. “But...I guess you’re kinda used to the paranormal.”

Dipper raised a brow. “I don’t think there’s any getting used to your friend secretly being a supernatural creature.”

“Part supernatural creature.” She snorted. “So….do you have any more questions?”

“Do I? Well…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dipper of course had dozens of questions for the newly revealed halfa. After posing several questions about her powers and requests to demonstrate, Elle turned human and asked to go somewhere more secluded. The pair made their way away from the field hosting the fair and into the woods, far enough to not be seen by any of the townsfolk but close enough to easily find their way back to the Shack.

Elle demonstrated her powers and the two talked more about the Ghost Zone and ghosts. Dipper even learned about Elle’s superhero alter-ego and Phantom’s real identity . Again, it was nice sharing the truth with someone. The boy wasn’t angry that she’d waited or distrustful of her. Instead, his enthusiasm and wonder was infectious, lifting her spirits. He clearly thought what she was, what she could do was wondrous and incredible, not weird and inhuman. In an odd way, it reminded her of her dad and the child-like wonder he exhibited when talking about ghosts. The man had worn similar expressions when watching either of his two half ghost children display their powers. The reaction made her literally glow with happiness. Until…

“Hey, Elle.” Dipper put down the journal he’d been jotting down notes in. “Thanks for showing me all this. I could tell how nervous you were earlier about telling me so...thank you for trusting me with your secret.”

And just like that, an underlying tension surged. She’d shared a secret but not her biggest one, not about her origin as a clone. Her stomach flopped. She could tell him about that now, right?. He accepted her being a halfa; learning that she was a clone too wouldn’t change that. But…doubt stabbed in her heart. It would change the way he saw her. He’d know that she was not a real person but a fake, a copy, a hateful voice whispered.

No, Elle shook her head. She wasn’t those things. She’s been over this again and again, reassured by her family. She was a real person, her own person.

“Come on.” Dipper interrupted her thoughts. “Let’s head back to the fair.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Elle shrugged, returning to human form.

The boy led her back to the field, stopping as they cleared the trees. “Do you want to play some games?” He pointed. “I’m pretty good at balloon darts.”

“Let’s do it.” The girl agreed.

With that, the pair of friends walked to the stall and played the game. All the while, Elle’s thoughts tumbled her head. She really should tell him about how she really got her powers and....She watched Mabel walk by with her friends...She needed to tell the other girl as well. Elle frowned. Well, one thing at a time then. She’d talk to Mabel about being half ghost and then...figure out what to do next.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About an hour later, Mabel joined back up with Elle and Dipper. “Candy and Grenda had to leave so I’m back!” She grinned. Then she wiggled her eyebrows. “Did you two have fun?”

Elle raised a brow at that tone; what exactly was she implying?

Dipper either didn’t pick up in the expression or chose to ignore it. Instead he excitedly said. “Yeah! Mabel you won’t believe what Elle-”

The half ghost elbowed the boy in the side, cutting him off. “Dipper.”

“What?” He shrugged, slightly confused and slightly incredulous. Elle gave him a pointed look and a moment later, understanding dawned on his face. “Oh, right. I guess you should tell her yourself.“

“Tell me what?” Mabel questioned.

Elle bit her lip. “More like show you. Let’s...let’s go somewhere private.”

Without further questions, the group went back to the area in the woods where Elle and Dipper talked earlier. Once they arrived, the half ghost turned around to face her two friends.

“So...I’m half ghost.” She started, already cursing herself for not deciding to tell both twins at the same time. Really, why did she keep doing this? It wasn’t that she didn’t like or trust Mabel so why...

She pushed the idea out of her head to focus on explaining and showing off her powers. Much as she had with Dipper, she gave a very vague explanation of why she was half ghost and the awful things that happened before she was stabilized.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” Mabel said, after she finished.

With a huff, the girl touched down on the ground. “Yeah..it was really bad but...I came out okay.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “And like I said, Danny helped me.” 

The other girl’s expression softened. “He sounds like a good brother.”

Elle nodded. “He really is.” That was true, no matter the complicated feelings she had about being his clone.

“Are you two close?” The halfa rose a brow Mabel’s question and the other girl continued. “The two of you have the same powers and all the stuff you went through together? I know with all the crazy stuff that happened last summer, all the times I had to save Dipper’s butt.”

“Hey!” Said boy gave a somewhat indignant cry. “You saved my butt? I saved your butt!”

Mabel glared at him without heat. “We saved each other’s butts. But anyway...we got closer, after everything that happened.”

Dipper lowered his pointed finger. “You’re right.” His expression turned fond. “We did.”

Elle glanced between the brother and sister, fondness entering her heart at the thought of her own living siblings. “You’re right. Danny and me are close. Well...I’m closer to him than Jazz anyway. Some of that is being half ghost.” Though some was, she had known him longer than she had known Jazz. “He got his powers first so he’s taught me things. And all the stuff that happened with the fruitloop…” She bit her lip. “I know he’ll always have my back.” Elle shook her head; she could say more, a lot more. Her relationship with the older teen was complicated. “I mean...he sometimes drives me nuts and...” This was saying a lot from a clone. “I wonder how the heck we’re even related.”

That earned a laugh from Mabel. “Same. I mean, brothers?” She jabbed a thumb at Dipper. “What are you gonna do with them?”

The mentioned boy rolled his eyes. “I love you too.” 

His sister stuck out her tongue and Elle giggled.

The halfa then shrugged. “But yeah….I guess the point is...it’s not always perfect. But Danny’s my big bro. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

There was a pause as Elle let the statement settle and the silence stretched. From the fond looks the pair of twins traded, the half ghost was sure each thought the same of their respective sibling even if neither was going to say it out loud. Granted, Elle wasn’t sure how much of that said she would say to Danny out loud but...maybe she should. Maybe after this, she’d call Jazz and Danny and thank them for encouraging her to trust Dipper and Mabel. She’d tell the two how much she loved them.

Speaking of trusting….she did have more to tell them but…

“Elle! Can you show us your ice again?” Dipper grinned excitedly. 

Mabel beamed similarity. “Can you make snowballs?! Oh, can we have a snowball fight?”

The halfa laughed, forming a snowball in her hands. “I don’t know…” She threw it at Mabel and smiled. “Can we?”

A shocked expression crossed the girl’s face before she shrieked with laughter. “No fair. Me and Dipper need snowballs too!”

With that, the half ghost made a pile of snowballs. As the three had a snowball fight in the middle of the summer, Elle was again happy that she told her friends about her powers and she could share this with them. There was still that little secret about being a clone which kept rearing its head. But for now…. Elle laughed as a snowball hit her in the back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the impromptu snowball fight, the group went back to the fair. Elle looked side to side; there were noticeably less people around and many of the game and food stalls were closed.

Mabel frowned. “I guess we ended up talking for a long time.”

“Sorry you didn’t get to see much of the fair.” Dipper said.

“That’s okay. I still had fun with you guys.” Elle shrugged.

The twins both smiled at the statement. Mabel then waved. “Come on. Let’s ride the Ferris wheel before they close.”

The three got in line for the ride and soon after loaded onto one of the cars. The group happily chatted. As they rose higher, Dipper and Mabel oohed and awed at the sight. Elle looked around with considerably less awe. The sight was beautiful but she could see it all time she liked; she could fly of her own power after all. But still she smiled, enjoying her friends’ reactions.

That is...until she looked through one of the windows of the Shack and again, saw the misty form of Tyrone. Her smile fell; there he was in the window again, watching, waiting and probably hoping she’d come up with a way to make him fully visible and audible. Guilt wrapped around Elle’s heart; she’d forgotten about him all day, too busy hanging out with Dipper and Mabel and thinking about herself.  She’d been worried about telling them about her status as a clone but there was another clone to worry about. She still needed to figure out how to tell them about Tyrone. But how to have that conversation, that definitely painful conversation that Tyrone didn’t want to have yet?

“Look! It’s the water tower!” Mabel grabbed her arm and pointed, drawing Elle out of the train of thought.

The halfa tilted her head. “Is that a muffin painted on the side?” 

Dipper waved exaggeratedly. “That’s what I said!” The boy crossed his arms. “Robbie says it’s an explosion, though.”

“An explosion?” Elle raised a brow. “Huh? I can kinda see it.”

The boy’s mouth fell open and his nose wrinkled. “Traitor.” He muttered.

At that, Mabel laughed. “I think Elle’s right. It does look like an explosion.”

The two girls continued to laugh at the other teen’s offended expression. More quips were traded as the Ferris Wheel spun around. After several minutes, the ride ended. The trio walked around the fair for a while as the sun set before going back to the Shack after the fair closed.

As soon as Elle walked into the living room, her ghost sense stirred in his chest before exiting her mouth. She crossed her eyes, looking at the blue mist. 

“What was that?” Dipper asked, apparently having noticed.

“Ghost sense. I guess...our friend’s around.” She frowned. “I don’t see him though. I’ll just…” She looked side to side. Seeing no one around, she summoned the rings. “I’ll look for him.”

Elle half-smiled, enjoying the twin’s awed looks at her transformation. But she was still worried about the ghost she’d sensed. After that conversation this morning, he’d been alone all day and based on glimpses, Tyrone had been watching the going-ons at the fair. She sighed as she phased through the ceiling, wondering what she’d say when she found the ghostly clone. And what would she tell Dipper and Mabel?

In quick succession, she invisibly flew through the house, searching. Where was he? Her core pulsed with the familiar cold of sensing another ghost. But there was no mist, no semi transparent figure. Where was Tyrone?

Five minutes later, Elle returned to her friends.

“Did you find him?” Dipper asked hopefully.

The half ghost shook her head. “No..I sensed him a few more times but he’s nowhere to be found.”

“Oh.” Dipper seemed to sober at that. “Do you think he’s still upset about last night?”

“Maybe…” Elle’s stomach flopped at the idea. Maybe he was still upset. It wasn’t like him, just disappearing. Again she worried. Was he moping? Avoiding her? Avoiding the twins? “Maybe he...he doesn’t want to see any of us.”

That was kinda hard to believe but...with how upset he got seeing the twins, how he didn’t want to tell them about his true identity...maybe he didn’t want to see them. And her….what exactly were they gonna talk about after that bombshell?”

Mabel frowned. “What do we do now?”

Elle swallowed. "I guess...he’ll show up again eventually.”

“And we keep researching.” Dipper said, eyes downcast. “I wish we could do something.”

Guilt churned in her gut as part of her whispered, she could do something. She could tell Dipper and Mabel that the ghost was Tyrone but… the ghostly clone’s uncertain and distraught face flashed in her mind. Would it be more painful for him if the two knew but he remained unseen and unheard? Won’t he be angry if she told them without his permission?

Heart aching, Elle remained silent. 

[avengerscompound]

Home - Chapter 3

Home: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Word Count:  1706

Warnings:  Angst, parenthood, sexual manipulation, action, injuries, underage drinking and drug-taking.

Synopsis:  16 Years after the death of Daisy, Steve and Bucky have successfully raised two teenage kids with telepathy. Teens are never easy to live with though. Sarah in particular likes to test boundaries. Now on top of all the usual challenges of parenting, they have to deal with troublemaking demigods, a daughter who just wants to be accepted for who she is and running the Avengers. That’s when the children of other super-powered individuals start going missing.

Chapter 3

Sarah spent the rest of the week at school with the mundies. Her dads’ attempt at her having a normal life. It made her feel anything but normal. Being around so many people thinking so many ridiculous thoughts was like being constantly yelled at about algebra and which member of whatever dumb band was the hottest.

She could shut them out but turning off her ability took energy and she had to focus on it. If she was focusing on that then how do you learn? If you’re not learning why be at school?

She also didn’t know for sure if she was learning. Sometimes she knew. She’d get an assignment, take it home and work on it by herself locked in her room. If she could figure it out then yes, she had actually absorbed the necessary information. If not she’d go to Vision and he’d help explain it in a way she understood.

At school though she was just a mess of other people’s thoughts. Taking a test was futile. It meant nothing. When a room full of people are all thinking the same thing it was hard for her to know if she was also thinking it because she knew it, or because their thoughts had overwhelmed her.

She had made some friends though. A small group of kids whose thoughts didn’t anger or disgust her. Who when she spent time relaxing around their silliness was both intoxicating and a relief. Her group of friends consisted of three other people.

Daniel, a small pale blond kid who wore glasses and had severe asthma and mild autism. He was quiet and liked video games and his thoughts were never cruel. In a lot of ways he reminded Sarah of her dad, but in many ways, he was as far from Steve as he could be.

The other two were twins, McKenna and Olive. Identical in most of their physical features. Curvy and beautiful with dark, warm complexions. McKenna wore her hair in long braids and dressed in plaid and denim. Her thoughts were mostly about math. She thought about math way too often to be normal. If she wasn’t thinking about math she was thinking about ways to annoy her sister. Olive wore her hair in short dreadlocks. She tended to wear floral dresses and knee-high socks. Though not all the time.

Olive was the girl who filled Sarah’s thoughts the most. She was glad they were friends. She just wished she wouldn’t keep pretending to like boys when she didn’t. Olive did have very confused thoughts. Sometimes Sarah just wanted to grab her and kiss her. Instead, she just settled for the fact that because Olive was so confused she did that thing where you’re overly affectionate. They hugged and held hands a lot.

The four sat at their usual table in the cafeteria. Sarah was scowling. Lunch hurt the most. There was so much noise. She concentrated hard and switched it off.

“What the hell was that car you drove to school in today?” McKenna asked. She threw a tater tot into the air and caught it in her mouth.

“My uncle gave it to me for my birthday,” Sarah answered. She wasn’t really paying attention. She found it hard to when she had to focus on keeping everyone out.

“What the hell does your uncle do that he can afford to buy his niece a Bugatti? And is he married?” McKenna said.

Sarah rubbed the bridge of her nose. One of the reasons why she liked this particular group of friends is they had no idea who she was in the grander scheme of things. In the past when people had found out who she was, they either rejected her because of what she could do, or they used her as a way to touch fame.

“He’s in IT. And he is. Sorry.” She says.

“Have you all asked anyone to the dance?” Daniel asked. He was fiddling with his fingers and wouldn’t look them in the eye.

“Nah,” McKenna replied. “Do you want to go with me, Dan?”

“Really?” He said.

“Of course. I’d love it.” She said.

Daniel looked really pleased with himself before accepting. “What about you, Sare? Got your eye on any boy to ask?” Olive asked.

Sarah shrugged. “The only guy at this school I like in any way just said yes to McKenna.” She answered. Daniel blushed a little. “I think I need some air.”

She got up and headed outside being closely tailed by Olive. “What’s wrong, Sarah? Do you actually like Daniel? I think McKenna just asked him to be nice. If you said you wanted to she’d back off.”

Sarah shook her head. “No, it’s not that. I was just getting really hot in there. And I wouldn’t doubt what’s going on with Dan and McKenna if I were you.”

“Really? She hasn’t said anything to me.” Olive said.

“And have you said anything about who you like to her?” Sarah asked.

“No, but I don’t really like anyone really.”

Sarah frowned. “Okay. Sure.”

Olive took her hand. “Can you believe we’re going to Artmania tomorrow?”

“Nope. My dads are so overprotective. I am always surprised they let me go anyway. I’m so excited though.” Sarah said, squeezing Olive’s hand.

“You know we wouldn’t have come to see you people if I had any other choice.”

Steve watched the perpetually angry Jessica Jones pace his office as she ranted at him. Her husband Luke sat looking defeated in the chair opposite him.

“Ms. Jones, I’m more than happy to help, but you haven’t actually told us what the problem is,” Steve said.

“It’s our daughter Danielle. She’s been missing for three days.” Luke said.

“Why didn’t you come sooner?” Steve asked.

“I find people. It’s what I do! I should be able to find my own kid.” Jessica snapped.

“So tell me what you have found.”

Jessica and Luke gave Steve the complete rundown. Their twelve-year-old daughter, Danielle had gone to school on the bus as usual but had never come home that night. She had gone to school as normal, caught the bus home as she always did. She’d gone missing somewhere between the bus and home and no one seemed to have seen anything.

“She can fly can’t she?” Steve asked.

“It’s more like controlled falling. And before you ask, she didn’t run away. I’m sure of it. Someone has taken her.” Jessica snapped.

“What other abilities did she inherit?” Steve asked.

“All of them. She has the bulletproof skin, the strength, the flying.” Luke answered.

“So if she was taken, there must have been a struggle,” Steve said.

Jessica picked up a chair and threw it. It shattered against the wall. “I knew these holier-than-thou fucking Avengers wouldn’t help us!” She yelled. “Someone took her! You have children! What if it was one of them missing?”

“Jessica, I’m just thinking out loud. If someone took her, then someone saw it. If someone saw it and they’re not saying; they’re scared.” He looked at his watch and then back to the couple in front of him. “My daughter will be home soon. She’s met Danielle hasn’t she?”

“What does that matter?” Jessica asked.

“You know what she can do right? If she knows what Danielle’s mind feels like she’ll be able to tell us where she is.” Steve answered, trying to remain calm. This was troubling though. He was pretty sure Danielle had probably just run away. He knew first hand what twelve-year-old girls could be like. If she had the powers they said, it was unlikely she could be taken anywhere against her will. If they were right though and she had been taken; he didn’t even want to contemplate what that could mean.

“I think they met. It was a long time ago though. During the attack by the Shi’ar Empire and we left her here with Potts.” Luke said.

“FRIDAY, can you send Sarah in here when she gets home,” Steve said.

The voice of FRIDAY filled the room. “Sarah returned home ten minutes ago, Captain Rogers. Do you want me to send her in?”

“Thank you, Friday.”

Sarah sulked into the room a few minutes later. “Dad, I swear to god, I didn’t cheat and if I did I didn’t mean to. You know how hard …” She cut herself off when she saw the others in the room.  “What’s going on?”

“Sarah you know Ms. Jones and Mr. Cage don’t you?” Steve asked.

Sarah shrugged. “Yeah, sort of.” She said. Then her eyes lit up. “Oh my god! Am I going on a mission? I’ve been training heaps. I can do it!”

“It’s not that, Sarah. Their daughter has gone missing. Do you remember Danielle?” Steve asked.

“Uh, sort of. You want me to find her?” Sarah looked at Jessica.

“No, I want to keep worrying about her until it kills me. Of course, I want you to find her if you can.” Jessica snapped.

“It’s been ages. Can you think of the last conversation you had with her? Like actually picture it.” Sarah said.

Jessica closed her eyes and thought about talking to Danielle over breakfast. How she’d needed three different forms filled out to go on the school camp.

Sarah pulled away and then flopped down on one of the chairs. “This could take a while. Dad, I’ll probably need something to eat when I’m done. This kind of thing always fucks me up.”

“Language, Sarah.” Steve scolded. Sarah could feel how both Jessica and Luke wanted to laugh but they couldn’t quite bring themselves too. Their worry was consuming them.

Sarah closed her eyes and sent her mind out. She scanned the city of New York first, touching on any mind she found even vaguely familiar. When that brought up nothing she spread out. She became a machine touching every mind like they were connected via a living circuit. Checking to see the brain pattern she knew to be Danielle Cage. She touched everyone everywhere and found nothing.

She opened her eyes. Her mouth felt tacky. The sky had gone dark outside. She must have been searching for hours.

“Did you find her?” Luke asked looking at her hopefully.

Sarah looked over at her father not knowing what to do. He handed her a glass of orange juice and nodded to her. “I don’t know how to say this. But if she’s still alive I don’t think she’s on Earth anymore.”

Jessica broke down in tears.

// NEXT

[collectivedreamscapes-moved]

the Crew - people

One of several groups of teens that tend to hang around together, the Crew is not as... hardcore as other groups. They were one of the first groups of teens to be known, before we really understood that the vast majority of the system falls within the teenage range.

rayna lynn is 16 and is Donna Marie's twin sister and was one of the first of us to make herself known to main Renee in 1999.  She had often fronted when main Renee couldn’t handle it, and her thing was games of all sorts, especially cards and video games.  She’s very much the tomboy and is also prone to wrestling with people. She’s nominally the head of the Crew. When she first became known in 1999 she was often seen with another, Selena (different from Selena of the Overseers).  Selena eventually changed her name to Selene to separate herself from the associations most had to the name “Selena”.  rayna and Selene called themselves the “Gruesome Twosome” and would often post that way at a message forum we frequented at the time.  An event in the fall of that year (1999) involved a traumatic blending and Selene was one of the ones involved with that.  rayna took the loss hard.  rayna looks a lot like our real life daughter but with dark blond hair and hazel eyes.

Kayla aka Kaylana has been known to sign posts either BWA (bitch with attitude) or DWA (dyke with attitude). She's 15, freely calls herself a dyke, is as much of a tomboy as rayna and was the one most involved in the marching band when we were in high school.  She loves to watch DCI (Drum Corps International) competitions and has really hated the fact that we didn’t get to see our sons march in marching band.  She’s red-headed with green eyes and the temper to match.

Despair is an age slider who ranges between 13 and 17, usually hovering around 15.  She is depressed almost all of the time.  She sees the world in black and white and shades of grey. She tends to write free verse poetry and has a certain way with words when journaling.  She stays mostly to herself or can be found with her sister ‘Kat. Her other sister is Jackielynn. Despair is dark skinned with black hair that she wears over her dark dark eyes.

Cara and Casey spend much of their time inside.  They are both 15 and are identical twins.  They have been known to come out when a song they know is on and they like to dance.  They are bouncy and full of energy.  They are also mischievous and like to play jokes on people.  But only in fun.  Neither of them seems to have a mean bone in their body.  They are both petite brunettes with brown eyes.

Alex15 is brother and protector to Alex5.  He is 15, as in his name.  Both boys came about because of certain things that happened usually involving physical abuse of some sort.  They were also often front when the girls felt that they should be a boy instead.  He has not actually fronted since our early teen years.  He and his brother are both white with dark hair and dark eyes.

Terri is 15 and we don't know hardly anything about her other than the fact that she is there.

Alejandro first became known to us in 2003 during one of our hospital trips.  He’s 15, he’s queer, and he has a tendency to flame.  He likes to dress up, is usually one of the ones who can actually put on make-up, and he’s got pretty good taste.  He’s very shy, and tends not to speak much. He’s black with very short hair and dark eyes.

Matthew and Marcus showed up with Todd and Tyler sometime in 2004.  It was a shock to main Renee who had always maintained we had very few males in the collective.  The four of them showing up was just part of something that proved her very wrong.  Matthew and Marcus are identical twins, are 17 and both have a noticeable southern accent.  Matt loves to read and Marc loves to sing.  Todd and Tyler are identical twins and are 16.  We don’t know much about them except that they can joke with the best of them and they tend to try and cheer people up.  All four brothers are biracial, again with dark hair and dark eyes.

Bitch #2, so called because Kayla had already been using BWA, is antagonistic and proud of it.  She’s somewhere between 16 and 19, ornery, short tempered and is often impatient with people in general.  If she had her wish we would live like hermits.  She doesn’t really like people much and certainly doesn’t like to put up with any kind of emotional display.  She looks much like the body.

Tony (aka Anthony) is 19 and was one of the main fronters for a while.  He used to just be the guy who sat in the corner of the Front Room and listened to Linkin Park. In 2005 he took charge of Bane and Blade when Malice wanted to kick the shit out of Bane for daring to say what he thought about the father.  Tony kept the twins with him to prevent Malice from getting her way.  He started being a regular fronter late in 2006.  He and ShayRisa are the two who used to front the most frequently.  Tony tends to try and act tough, and he’s protective as hell of those he cares about. Although he was first freaked out at the idea of being a “mom”, he has come to adore our outside kids.  He was one of the ones who was called to the Kids Castle summer of 2008 to help a group of children who had come forward with new info about our parents.  Unlike many of us, he definitely has the ability to get angry and to express it.  Sometimes the way he expresses it isn’t the best, but he’s been trying really hard not to do anything that will hurt the body.  He’s a pretty complicated guy.  He’s white with black hair in a skater’s cut and dark green eyes.

Daniel, whose age we have recently learned is 13, carries some very specific memories of the father.  He isn’t very well time-oriented and only sort of knows those we are around.  He seems a little vague, and when he first showed up he inadvertently scared most of the kids in our system.  We later learned that they weren’t scared of him, but of what he carried.  Daniel is also bi-racial with dark hair and green eyes. He is linked to the child Daniel in the Kids’ Castle the same way Alex5 and Alex 15 are.

Teesha, 14, is another of the video game teens.  Other than knowing that, we know next to nothing about her.  She looks like the body does.

Abby and Gail (both between 14 and 16) are both members of the graphics team.  They are usually behind pattern design.  They do patterns for more than just computer graphics.  They also help come up with our quilt patterns and with our beading projects.  Those of the graphics team are in general fairly artistically inclined.  If it’s any kind of arts and crafts project, the graphics team most likely has a hand in it.  Both girls are white with brown hair and brown eyes.

Kyle, Kevin, Kristin, Kylara and K’Tara all came forward at one time.  We refer to them as the K-clan and Kayla is in charge of them.  The five of them are 15 and were the ones who were the most involved with our first boyfriend.  Of all of them only Kevin is really oriented to the here and now.  He is the head of the graphics team.  His is the final say so on any graphics project.  He is also the coordinator between the graphics team and the code rats (web design).  He and Tony often butt heads when trying to design a page, usually because the graphics team wants it to look one way and the code rats are telling them they can’t code it like that.  Kevin tends to get obsessive about graphics projects.  He and other members of the graphics team have the ability to completely block out awareness of the body when they are focused.  We have to sometimes yell pretty loud to get his attention and get him to give the body a break.  All five of them are biracial with skin tones like our outside children and dark hair and eyes.

[chroniclesofawkwardness]

90 Days

What can you accomplish in three months? Could you lose weight? Could you find love? Would you really know if a job you thought you wanted was the right fit? If you were still a fetus within those first three months, you’d have grown from a single cell to about the size of a domino piece that, according to WebMD, could open and close its fists. 

Most tourist visas (for fetuses and otherwise) last 90 days. I’ve often wondered whose decision this was, and why. When I was staying in Serbia on a tourist visa, I never seemed to be able to get a straight answer, which was par for the course.

I’ll never forget the first time I had to leave Serbia because my tourist visa was expiring. It was October 2007, and the weather was finally beginning to turn colder. I’d had my mom pay too much money to mail me my own sweaters from home, but even her monetary efforts couldn’t delay the passage of time.

Adam and I woke up early that morning because we wanted to go to Tempo (think a smaller version of Wal-Mart) to buy a wall heater for the upstairs bathroom of the house. The closest Tempo was in Baja, Hungary. Baja wasn’t that far from Sombor, so going to Tempo seemed like the perfect opportunity to get my obligatory border crossing out of the way, and make it back to Serbia without too many sideways glances at my U.S. passport. Privately, I hoped that the same policemen who were on the Serbian side the Hungarian border when we crossed would still be there when we came back, so I wouldn’t have to explain the whole story of what I was doing in that part of the world to someone new, even if I didn’t know what my whole story was. 

We crossed into Hungary without incident, and I got a stamp in my passport of a little car as proof of when and how I’d left Serbia that day. It sat nicely next to the one of a plane that said Surčin from when I landed at the airport in Belgrade almost three months before. It was a new day, but the sun wasn’t up yet. I’d been spoiled by the long days of summer. While the days had grown gradually shorter since the end of June, I remember looking at my watch thinking the sun should have been up by then. Whatever my circadian rhythms were telling me, our first priority was to exchange our dinars for the local currency, forints. 

As we drove around Baja looking for a place to exchange money, the city looked to still be asleep. Adam finally found a hotel with an open exchange office, and we were on our way.

Tempo was just as dead. I was amazed at how few people were in the store. Most of them were older, and moved quite deliberately, either as a sign of their age, or other conditions not so easily estimated by the naked eye. It reminded me of visiting Wal-Mart with my dad to gather supplies for days of painting Spartan Municipal Stadium for my Eagle Scout service project. 

Adam’s phone rang just as we walked out of the store with the wall heater. It was his father, and my yoga teacher, Fabijan: 

“You guys got up really early this morning,” he said.

It was only then I realized that we’d both forgotten about the time falling back an hour overnight. We finally understood why we had such trouble finding an open exchange office, and why Tempo had been largely devoid of human life. 

We crossed back into Serbia, but since the police had taken the white card that was my Declaration of Temporary Residence when we left, I’d have to go back to the police station and get another one -- the first of many such trips in the years to come. When I went to the police station in Sombor that Monday to get another white card, the lady behind the desk looked really confused. Her lips didn’t form any words, but her facial expression seemed to say, “You left Serbia and came back?” It’s also possible that she’d seen a U.S. passport as often as she’d seen a guy with two fs in his last name like me. Serbian is written exactly as it’s spoken and vice versa, so the second f at the end of Ratcliff would be unnecessary.

I left Sombor for Novi Sad not long that return trip to the police station, but my 90-day clock never stopped ticking. My first two weeks in Novi Sad were the hardest. Not only was I sleeping on Ivica’s (someone I barely knew) couch, but I also couldn’t register at his address because he only rented the apartment. I needed to legally report my presence to the Novi Sad police in exchange for yet another white card, but I first had to hope that Fabijan and Slavica - especially Slavica - hadn’t already reported to the police in Sombor that I was no longer living with them. Fabijan had at least been gracious near the end of my time in Sombor, telling me one day that he didn’t ask me to come, so he wouldn’t ask me to leave. Slavica, on the other hand, struck me as the type of vindictive cunt who would snitch on me to the cops out of pure spite, since it turned out that I wasn’t the rich, look-at-me symbol of American excess she needed to trot out in public to stroke her ego and become the envy of the neighborhood.

If Slavica decided to rat me out to the police in Sombor, I would have had to go to the police in Novi Sad with either the owner of Ivica’s apartment or at least her lična karta (national ID) as proof she knew I was living there. Given how my welcome in Sombor had worn out, and the fact that the lady who owned the place had no idea I’d crashed on the couch, this wasn’t something I felt comfortable doing. During those two weeks, all I did hope and pray the lady didn’t show up unannounced, as I had. I worried about being kicked out of the country since I could have had police from both cities after me. I thought even Serbia’s bureaucratic system, which was notorious for making things extraordinarily difficult on its own citizens, would be able to produce all the evidence it needed to deport me as something of a persona non grata within a matter of minutes.

Tick... tick... tick...

There were times when Sanja’s business partner and fellow English teacher, Maja, would take me to their school in Šid to get my trimestral obligation out of the way. Strangely, from Novi Sad, it was easier to get to Šid by briefly crossing into Croatia rather than staying in Serbia the whole time. Maja told me she’d seen cops prop their feet up on the swinging gate on the Serbian side of the border to combat boredom, and she even heard one admit to watching westerns to pass the time.

More than once after I started working with Daniel and the man in the cowboy hat, we’d hop in the man in the cowboy hat’s yellow Chevy Spark, cross the border with Croatia to get the exit stamp, and just turn right back around. I could feel that the women who worked in the division of the Novi Sad police department responsible for keeping track of foreigners were growing more and more suspicious of me. One lady, in particular, had long black hair, and eyes that seemed to burn a hole through my forehead every time she looked my way. To this day, I don’t know if she was angry because she saw me so many times, or because my appearances frequently interrupted her morning coffee service, and make her do work that didn’t involve her playing hostess.

Whatever her motivation, or lack thereof, I wished she’d focused her energy on stopping crimes committed by Serbian citizens, and let my single American life slide. Besides, her country’s institutions of law enforcement had such a history of helping criminals get out of the country with fake passports in the nineties, that I didn’t think any policemen would pay attention to the fact I was trying to stay in my real American one almost two decades after their most recent round of wars ended (at least on paper). That is until I heard a knock at the door one day.

I’d been living with Zs. under somewhat more comfortable conditions. With Sanja’s help, I’d managed to get the mandatory health insurance I needed because Serbia’s visa regime was undergoing changes meant to harmonize its regulations with those of the European Union. We’d also managed to get my fiancée visa in just under the wire. Due to another change, if I hadn’t transitioned to a fiancée visa before my last tourist visa had expired, I would have had to leave the country for three months before being allowed back in. Some kind of 90 days in, 90 days out rule had been put on the books by the time the knock came. 

Zs. was still in her underwear. I’d just finished my latest hack job attempt at shaving. I’d nicked myself in too many places to count, and applied dozens of tiny toilet paper squares to my face to curtail the bleeding. The sound of the knock startled us both. A quick glance through the peephole in the door showed two uniformed police officers waiting outside. Zs. ran to put on pants, I ran to dispose of any flyers advertising schools of foreign languages, worried that if the wrong eyes fell upon them, I’d find myself having to explain away almost indisputable evidence that I’d been teaching English under the table because I had no legal right to do so. This time, I didn’t have to worry about Slavica. I had to worry that the mere sight of an officer’s holstered gun would compel me to tell the truth, just as it had when I was a kid, and my dad would stroll in to the kitchen every Sunday night dressed in uniform to work bingo, and share in the roast my mom had made more often than not.

Yes dad, I know I currently have a C in Algebra. Yes, dad, I know I can do anything if I apply myself, I’ll bring the textbook home and read ahead every night until my grade gets better. Yes, dad, I know Timmy Smith’s father is a piece of shit, and Dr. Jones didn’t get to be a doctor by running around with the idiots he went to high school with.  

Tick... tick... tick...

Surprisingly, these officers didn’t want much from me. One just stood around staring off into the distance at God knows what, the other sat on the couch asking Zs. and me questions. I can’t remember how many bloodied squares of toilet paper fell from my face like snowflakes from the sky during the interview, but I do remember the officer asking me if I was born in New Orleans (where my passport was issued), and asking Zs. what her occupation was. Our encounter with Novi Sad’s finest wasn’t anything like the hours-long interrogations I’d come to expect from watching too many true crime shows on television. I didn’t know if these guys had honed their interview skills by watching reruns of Columbo, or if, from behind their desks, they were just too worn out and disinterested to care. I imagined them like my dad, content at their keyboards or relive their glory days of kicking in doors and slapping handcuffs on supposed bad guys.

Satisfied with our answers that I lived of remittance from relatives abroad, and Zs. was a university student, the officers turned to leave. I couldn’t shake the notion that even though the leftover bloody toilet paper snowflakes seemed to fall from my face all at once -- out of relief that, like me, they no longer had to cover up what they’d been hiding -- one of the officers would catch sight a neglected school flyer, turn to me like Lieutenant Columbo, and say: “Just one more thing.”

I flashed back to an experience I had with my dad when I was about fifteen. He’d insisted on taking me somewhere I didn’t want to go. As I begrudgingly opened the passenger door to his black, beat up 1987 Cutlass Sierra S, fully expecting us to ride together in silence, he looked at me and said, out of nowhere: “Your mother tells me you’ve been saying fuck a lot.” I knew I was busted, so I had no choice but to come clean about my affinity for a certain four-letter word.

More than a dozen years after the confrontation about my love of fuckery, as the officers came closer to our apartment door, I could still see myself cracking under the slightest pressure of being asked just one more thing. In an instant, I thought my whole charade would come crashing down, and I’d have to tell the whole, unadulterated truth to yet another a cop:

Yes, officer, I’m teaching English in your country illegally. Yes, officer, the monthly transfers into my bank account aren’t enough to live on, even here. Yes officer, I fully intend to marry this psycho bit... I mean, uh... fine woman. 

I was so close to freedom from the inquisition, yet I had to remind myself that even as the doorknob turned, I would not be truly liberated until our apartment door had closed and the officers’ footsteps had faded down the hallway. Despite the years of practice I’d had with my dad, after our visit from Novi Sad’s boys in blue, I started feeling unsure of how long I could maintain my smokescreen of half-truths and one-word answers to authority figures. I began to entertain the idea of leaving Serbia before my next 90-day period came to an end. I knew full well that thanks to Zs. I had a fiancée visa which lasted a year, but after years of “tourist” trips across borders and back, 90 days had become my default measurement of time.

When such questions came from behind the glass that shielded one of my fellow countrymen at the U.S. Embassy in Belgrade, I started thinking that even they didn’t want me to stay. Zs. had to visit the embassy multiple times as part of the application process for the scholarship she would eventually win to study in the United States. I don’t remember why they called me over during one of her visits, but I do remember the man behind the glass looking at Zs., looking back and me, then asking, “Did you marry her yet?” 

I felt like I was on an episode of a popular “life unscripted” TV show where the contestants (if you can call them that) have 90 days to get married before one has to leave whichever country they’re in. 90 days isn’t enough time to know if a job’s a good fit, or if a commitment you made to drop extra pounds has become a lifestyle change, let alone if a person’s a good match to spend the rest of your life with. Sure, the contestants’ day-to-day activities, fights, and occasional intimate moments might make interesting fodder for the masses who’d rather watch navigate their lives instead of living their own, but you’d be hard-pressed to convince me that contestants’ lives didn’t really start until the cameras stopped. 

The producers of those so-called unscripted shows know this, but they’re still laughing all the way to the bank. They’re betting their audiences would prefer sitting back, cracking open a White Claw (or munching on a bowl of movie theater butter popcorn), and watching someone else’s relationship Hindenburg to working on themselves. it’s easier to indulge in the hard seltzer craze, pretend to care about koala colonies threatened Australian bushfires, or flex to your friends about how much you love your new sheets made from ethically-obtained cotton than it is to unplug the Wi-Fi and really try to fix your life. Zs.’s favorite “life unscripted” show was about brides-to-be trying to find the right wedding dress. I wonder why that was?

I know these shows exist because I’m just as guilty of watching them as anyone else. Some moments make me cringe, others make me cry, and a third grouping makes me want to yell at the television about what I hadn’t seen as much as what I had, thanks to some magical, manipulative editing. 

Perhaps the best approach is to take life one day at a time, whether you’re battling an addiction, trying to put on a pretty face for the camera, or take one off after the lights have gone down. Either way, the show must go on.