Hi Steven Universe fans! I've decided to write a short story based on a drabble from my LarSadie collection('Drabbles for Dorks with Doughnuts), and I picked the one titled 'Ghost'. I don't exactly know how many chapters there are going to be, but probably no more than 6, I want to make this kind of a short, spooky tale. There's a little bit of shipping, but not not an extravagant amount.
Short Summary: Sadie is a police officer who is approached by the ghost of a dead child who wants justice.
And because this is a Human AU, Steven and the Crystal Gems are human too.
Enjoy!
The hurried pattering of feet down the dirt road from Dead Man's Mouth couldn't be heard unless someone were to be within earshot of it. And nobody was. So nobody would see the fleeing group of children, horror and fear struck on their faces.
Nobody had known what had happened in the late afternoon on that cold autumn day along the coastline of the DelMarVa area until a worried mother would notify police that her child never came home that afternoon.
Nobody would know where that child would have gone, and nobody would step forward and say anything if they did.
Nobody would volunteer to help find the child unless prodded by their charismatic, opportunistic mayor.
Somebody would find the child's bike submerged in the moss infested water of Dead Man's Mouth, but nobody would dare search deeper in the water to find the unfortunate end of the missing youth.
Nobody wanted to notify the mother of the discovery of the body at the bottom of the pond, and certainly, nobody wanted to be the one to tell her that is was her child, once identified. Somebody eventually did, but then nobody wanted to be the one to offer comfort, having no relation to her or acquaintance.
Somebody came to the funeral, but only out of familial obligation, and they didn't understand what had happened.
Nobody bid the child a peaceful slumber in eternal resting.
Nobody spoke when the mother asked why somebody didn't come.
Everybody pretended they no longer knew the mother or the child.
That child suffered because of everybody.
After nearly nine years on the squad, it was pretty easy for Private Investigation Officer Sadie Carmichael to say that not much crime happened in Beach City. Aside from a few miscreants here and there, nobody really caused trouble in the town itself. Sadie's merits came from the work she did in other towns, often getting transferred to their departments for help, her superiors always recommending her for her hard work, diligence, and intellect. She usually managed to get her cases solved in what could be called record times. But then again, her cases were mostly theft, fraud, and the like, which she found easy to solve. They usually weren't too mysterious. That was ok though. She liked her job anyway. She could always get mystery from her collection of murder-case novels, curled in her favorite chair while munching on oyster crackers.
One late afternoon, her shift over, Sadie clocked out, and headed out towards her tiny, beat up red jeep parked behind the station, only to hear the jangling and clanging of cans being smacked together. She looked over to see an empty soda can get tossed at a stack of other cans, toppling them over. A lanky, rough looking youth with a strange mohawk hairstyle and plug piercings stomped on the can, kicking it across the lot. The officer frowned as she spoke aloud, "Hey, you really shouldn't be doing that, those cans go in the dumpster, Ok?"
The other seemed to flinch in shock at being addressed looking up with a surprised face, only for it to curl with an unkind snarl, flame colored hair bright against his impossibly pale skin, as he snapped, "Not your business, lady."
Sadie raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms, "I'd say it is my business, considering this is the police station's property, and I'm an officer."
The other stood to full height, well over a foot taller than her, glare deepening, "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," she frowned, voice still calm, "Now pick up those cans, and find somewhere else to hang around, please."
"Y'can't make me," he grumbled, folding his arms like a disagreeable child.
"I can, and I will. Want to see if the handcuffs will fit?" Sadie challenged, stepping forward, inches away from him, hands prepped to defend in case he pulled a weapon, or attacked.
The other looked at the short blonde in her uniform, and then seemed to stare at himself in his ragged skater clothes, and scowled, "Whatever," and chucked the cans in the dumpster, stomping off, looking more shaken up than anything else then.
Sadie smiled, thinking she got through to the punk, and climbed in her little car, driving away, unaware the scowling gaze was still fixed on her as she left the station, the shocked, ugly glare was slowly turning to a contemplative expression of thought.
Spending the rest of the evening at home was always a nice thing, especially for Sadie, who found that if her days weren't eventful, she grew anxious in public, and liked to curl up in her cozy old house. She grinned as she unlocked the door to her rented, rundown beachside flat, and was greeted by the patter of fat white paws, and a hungry meow from her cat, Melvin. She grinned, scooping him up, "Hi Melv baby! How's my big fat fluffball?"
Getting a purr as a response, she filled his food dish, and looked through her cupboard for her own dinner. Settling on a box of stovetop pasta, she got to cooking, adding the right ingredients, and soon, was at her solitary table, eating contently. It didn't bother her to be living alone, she really liked it actually. It was simple, and not too troubling.
Once dinner was over, Sadie decided to settle on the couch with a fuzzy blanket and watch evening programs, like Canine Court, even if it was only reruns. It kept her occupied. She managed to doze off a bit when Melvin climbed onto her chest, using her as his bed.
It was her life, and she was content with it.
Around three AM, the telephone rang, and she answered, mind still foggy, thinking it was either morning or early evening, answering with a groggy 'hello'. She was immediately answered by a very loud burst of static, giving a yelp as she nearly dropped the phone, and put it to her ear again, slightly nervous. All that she then heard was the dial tone.
Figuring it was a prank call, or a wrong number, she hung up, and went back to bed, groaning as she realized how she was now wired. She pulled Melvin up from the couch, and curled with him, closing her eyes at least two hours later, swearing that she'd just fallen back to sleep when her 5AM alarm rang. Smacking her alarm clock, she got up, dressing for work before putting oatmeal on the stove, and went to get the morning paper. She thought nothing initially as she found a manila envelope on top of her newspaper, putting it down on the table as she ate breakfast, but midway through her bowl of oatmeal, she opened the envelope, and found wrinkled old news articles describing what Sadie could quickly scan from the headlines as a drowning accident, and a surprisingly neatly written note on almost perfect paper slipped between the articles.
This was no accident. I will see you at the station today. Nobody else will see me.
At first, Sadie was thinking it was from her commander, but seeing it wasn't his handwriting, she realized it was going to be a stranger, and this genuinely creeped her out. Especially the last sentence, 'Nobody else will see me." That was just crazy cryptic to her.
For sake of maybe being less confused, Sadie decided to read through the articles. The first thing that she caught, the thing she always checked first, was the date of the articles. She was surprised to find that all of them were dated to a little more than ten years ago, and now Sadie was wondering why she didn't know about this now. She then read the most concise article first, perusing it carefully;
Tragedy has struck Beach City with the death of a young boy as a result of a freak accident. 7 year Larson Chang had just started the second grade this fall at Coastline Elementary when he disappeared last week. His body was found in Dead Man's Mouth on Thursday evening. Police have concluded that he had been riding his bicycle across the bridge over the pond when it collapsed and sent him into the water. No signs of foul play were discovered.
Sadie felt a strong sense of sadness reading the article. The poor boy was only seven. She was just finishing middle school then. If he'd not died, he would be at least seventeen or eighteen. She always got upset when kids were hurt, it just bugged her. She found a photograph in the mass of articles of a small boy posing for his mother on the beach, dark wild hair in his face, smiling innocently. He looked so sweet, Sadie thought, and it made her heart sink more. How his family must have grieved. She hoped that he was in a better place now. Looking through the articles, she found no information on his family, his burial, or a formalized obituary, as if his existence ended with the notice of an accident in the city. Or what was said to be an accident. Sadie would evidently find out more at work today.
Finishing her breakfast, she repackaged the articles and photographs, driving to the police station, slightly enjoying the sunrise as it streaked the water with orange and pink gleams. Bidding a hasty good morning to her commander, she went to her office, sitting down, feeling slightly anxious, wondering who would be visiting her for this case, and why they were so creepy in their letter.
The clock ticked, one hour passing, and no visitor. Sadie had tried to write a report for a minor robbery she'd handled three days before, but her hand was shaking too much, growing worried as to if she was in danger or not, not wanting to pull a weapon on anyone. She'd honestly never had to fire a gun at anyone, and never wanted to, feeling it was unnecessary.
After two hours passed, she got up to talk to her supervisor about locking her door, when she opened it, and standing inches away was the sullen looking punk from the day before. Sadie held back a gasp, absolutely startled, "What on earth are you doing in here?", she whispered harshly, "Do you realize this is the police station?"
"Yeah, no shit," he mumbled, sneering, and stretched his leg forward to step past her, inside her office. She was about to snap at him to get out, thinking he was here to pester her for the other day, only to see him sit right in the chair across from her own, and fiddled with his hands, slumping lazily in his seat, "So, ya gonna sit down to talk to me, or what, lady? I'm here, and ready to spill," he spoke obnoxiously.
Giving a groan, she sighed, "What are you here for? If it's about yesterday, I was telling you not to cause such a mess in the station parking lot, nothing personal, ok?", she huffed, crossing her arms.
"I'm not here for that, stupid," he spoke daringly, "I'm here about the envelope I sent you."
"Don't you call me stu-", she began absolutely infuriated, but then stopped, pausing, "...envelope? About the drowned boy? You sent me that?"
"Yeah, no duh," he snorted, "It was no accident, and I can prove everything," he spoke with certainty, picking at his teeth with his finger, his clothes grungy and looking unwashed for a while, "You can help me, right?"
Sadie stared at the other in surprise, then mumbled, "Sir, this case is at least ten years old..."
"And?", he asked, "For ten years, there was injustice. You can help stop it," he mumbled, sitting up, staring right in her eyes with utmost seriousness, "Think of that poor kid, will ya?"
Biting her lip, Sadie got up, and began to pace slowly, "Well...you'd have to provide me with every piece of evidence that you have. Be it witnesses, materials, or documents. Otherwise, you have no case, understood?"
The other gave a small nod, looking tired if anything, as if he hadn't slept in weeks, "...ok...thanks," he mumbled, probably the first 'polite' thing he'd said in their entire time of interaction.
"You're welcome," Sadie smiled helpfully, "Now, could I get a name from you?"
"Does it really matter?", the individual spoke, looking slightly anxious now.
"Well for credibility, I need your name, ID, and any other documents you have on you," she listed, pulling out a document for him to fill out, and handed him a pen, jolting with shivers when she felt how cold his hand was just by brushing against hers.
He bit his lip, chewing the dry looking skin a bit, and looked up, "I...never mind," he mumbled, trying to get up, "Forget it."
"Wh-what?" Sadie gasped, shocked by his sudden change of mind, "But I just need your-"
"I don't have an ID or anything," he admitted, "I haven't for ten years."
Before the officer could say anything, he relaxed back in the chair, staring at his lap, speaking softly, "For ten years, I've been looking for someone to help me. Nobody cared enough to look for me when I was gone, then forgot me when they pretended to grieve," he mumbled, not even looking at the officer's shocked, slightly terrified face.
"L-Larson?", she choked out in astonishment, looking ready to drop, "Y-You're-"
"Call me Lars," he requested with a mirthless chuckle.
"I'm surprised you, of all people, actually saw me. Usually, nobody sees me, and if they do, they don't think anything of it," the one identifying as Lars murmured, leaning on one elbow.
Still flabbergasted, Sadie tried to open her mouth to say something, only for the other to continue, "See, if you tell people your star witness is a dead guy, they're gonna tell you that you're full of crap," he snorted, "You're gonna have to be creative. Tell 'em you found an anomaly in the report or whatever it is you police say when you screw up."
"Y-you're a ghost!", Sadie finally choked with a squeak, turning white.
"Woah, don't you be one too!", Lars yelped obnoxiously, seeing her ready to pass out, "It's not that big of a deal! I'm just...dead!", he settled, having no way else to put it.
"But that doesn't make sense! Larson Chang was only seven! You're too old!"
"You do realize ghosts can age if they wanna, don't you lady? I can do what I want, when I want", he sneered, folding his arms.
"Well, then age into a boy! Prove it!", Sadie demanded, overwhelmed by this.
Before Lars could respond, Sadie's superior walked in, "Carmichael, you have the robbery report done?"
"U-uh, no sir, I'm busy dealing with this client here," she pointed to Lars in the chair, the strange man seeming unfazed by the officer, picking at his dry lip.
The older man looked at Sadie, "Carmichael, you trying to tell a joke?", he snorted, seeing nobody in the chair.
Turning pale, realizing Lars wasn't joking with her, Sadie weakly laughed, trying not to panic, "Y-yeah sir. A joke..."
Laughing, he then ordered the report in the next hour, leaving her office. Still pale, she stared at Lars, frozen by his smug grin, not even reacting when he sneered, "Told ya."
"...I'm going to need evidence," she spoke flatly, turning away from her desk, leaning against the windowsill, "Everything you have. If you leave something out, then I can't help you."
"Yeah. No problem," Lars murmured, sounding a little nervous, "Can I take you to Dead Man's Mouth tomorrow? And show you everything?"
"...I guess I have to go there anyway," she sighed, still not facing him, "I need to get some work done, so maybe you should sit tight until then, ok?", she asked, and trying to prove trustworthy to him, spoke with a tiny smile, "You can call me Officer Carmichael, or Sadie, ok?"
When he didn't respond, she looked up, and found the chair was empty.