Disclaimer: not mine, and I don't want to own either Kayako or her son. They can happily stay with Shimizu and whoever else owns them.
Summary: Karen finds out that some nightmares don't end just because you are dead.
Spoilers: The Grudge 1 + 2

In Death's Company
by Kadira (September 2007)

I.

"I'm really glad you decided to come here with me."

"Me, too".

"You sure?"

"Of course."

She tries to grab those memories, these fragments of warmth and happiness, to hold them close, even when she can feel them slipping away already.

She fights for the last time, tries to hold on for as long as possible, then -

nothing.

Silence and blackness.

A sob.

She doesn't realize that she is the one uttering it.

II.

Karen still remembers the end, maybe now even clearer than then. The arms that wrapped around her from behind, holding her, almost crushing her, then pulling her from the roof, while at the same time keeping her safe from the impact. Not her body. It's useless to Kayako. Just her soul. She didn't know it then, only realized it when her body landed on the ground with a sickening thud, right in front of her sister's feet, and she was pulled out of it.

"No," she whispered, terrified, floating above herself, held tight in an almost loving embrace.

Maybe it had something to do with being ghosts, because she had no trouble understanding the horrible being behind her, the one that had dominated her nightmares since... forever, it seemed: "Mine."

"Let me go," she demanded, trying to fight against the hold around her.

"Never," came the reply in a strange toneless voice, sealing her fate.

And then they were no longer in the air, but back in the place where her nightmare had started.

The house.

There are a lot of things Karen never knew and just as many things she wishes she had never found out about. The existence of ghosts being only one of them, closely followed by the experience of being a ghost, and the knowledge that ghosts still can have nightmares.

Or feel fear.

Not just mere fear, but the kind that steals your breath and chills you to the bones and beyond, the kind that paralyzes you. It's the kind of fear Karen felt when she suddenly found herself back in the corridor, in front of the stairs.

Alone.

III.

She can hear the other ghosts moving around, no more than plain shadows. Some of them Karen thinks she knows, most of them she doesn't. They never talk and hurry aside as soon as she is near, almost as if they are still afraid of her. She can't blame them.

Karen has never bothered to think more about the concept of life and death, or life after death, but she's pretty damn sure that her mom's preferred vision of hell would have been a more agreeable concept than this, including brimstone and everything. At least it would have been warm then and she wouldn't have needed to fear for her sanity.

She passes through the rooms, tries to find a place where she can hide.

In the beginning, she even tried to go out of the house, but it's hopeless. She's bound to the curse, even now, even after everything she did, after everything she tried and sacrificed.

There is no escape. Not for either of them. Not for the shadows and not for Karen, but neither for the boy or Kayako, or him.

Karen isn't sure whom she fears more. Kayako killed her, but Takeo almost terrifies her more. And not just her. She can feel Kayako's fear and rage as if it is her own when he comes. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, he observes them with cold eyes and a murderous intent, almost as if he wishes he could just kill her [them again.

Or do even worse.

It's the only time Karen wishes that she could still talk and that she could tell him that she never wanted this, that she just wants peace, just wants to really die and to be free, of him, of Kayako, of the curse.

She can't and it has nothing to do with Kayako's arms around her, or the cool lips against her own, which seem to drain her of everything - her ability to speak, the rest of warmth in her and even the few memories she still has, until nothing of her seems to be left anymore, apart from the fear.

IV.

She has set her free, has opened the door -- quite literally -- not only for Kayako, but also for her son, Toshio, who follows Karen everywhere in the house when his mommy is out. Toshio, who tries to hide behind her when Takeo decides to grace them with his presence and Kayako isn't there to shelter him.

That she has freed them is always the first thing Karen remembers when she can bring herself to think about what happened. It's strange, because shouldn't she rather remember life? Or at least her death? Maybe it would make the situation easier if she could do that.

Remembering other things becomes harder and harder, no matter how much they were a part of her, like her family, or life before she came to Japan, or even her favorite drink. With every day Karen seems to lose more of herself, can almost feel parts of her soul breaking free and dissolving into nothingness.

It will continue until -- and she's certain about that -- there just won't be anything left of her anymore, until she joins the league of ghosts that occupy the rest of the house, and becomes an empty shell, a mere shadow herself.

She can barely remember her boyfriend's name anymore (Doug or something like that, she thinks, but she isn't sure), or of her life before the fear and the terror had grabbed her. All the memories Karen is permitted to have are set around her, as if she doesn't allow her to remember anything else. Not for very long at least.

Sometimes Karen also remembers the girl, dark-haired, but she can't recall her name or anything else, apart from a vague feeling that she should know her and be afraid for her.

Another memory she lost somewhere on the way, like her life, leaving her with nothing else but... this, the arms around her, holding her, trying to absorb her with cold touches and kisses, until Karen isn't even sure anymore why she keeps fighting.

V.

Karen can feel the presence behind her with every fiber of her... existence. It's strong and powerful and so overwhelming that sometimes Karen fears that it has already become a part of herself, that she has been absorbed by it, or that maybe she has absorbed it.

Karen has seen so much death since she came here, has been in death's company more often than she cares to remember, has run from it and tried to escape it, to the point that she died. Not by her choice, but once she was falling, she had prayed -- maybe for the first time in her life -- that it would be the end of it, that the nightmare would finally be over.

Yet, after all the fight, here she is, clinging to death herself in the vain hope to feel a little bit less dead or to catch, maybe for the tiniest moment, a very faint echo of how it was to feel alive.

It's hopeless, of course, because not only is Kayako the bringer of death [her murderer, but she's cold and dead and tainted with blood and hate. And being together with her feels like being killed all over again. But despite that all Karen finds herself arching into the touches, yearning for the illusion of warmth and peace that will never come anyway.

Later, Karen knows, the cold fingers will card through her hair with disturbing gentleness, while she is curled together, arms wrapped around herself, crying, until her breath calms down enough that it sounds in union with the horrible croaking that almost starts to sound like a lullaby to Karen.

As long as she hears that, she knows that at least she isn't alone.

VI.

Karen feels restless and lonely as she wanders through the house. She doesn't know how or when it happened, but at some point the other ghosts, the shadows, have begun to keep away from her like they are avoiding Kayako, with the same efficiency, because Karen can't even hear them now.

And while she has never tried to talk to the shadows, it makes her feel lonelier than any time before.

In the end, she returns to the one small bedroom next to Toshio's room. It hasn't always been a bedroom, she knows. At one time it had been a working room, but the last owners changed that. Not that they lived long enough to enjoy it.

She leans against the wall beside the door, then slides down, wraps her arms around her knees. She lets her head fall against the wall and closes her eyes, tries to think about nothing, to feel nothing. Both are far more difficult than they should be for a ghost and when she hears the door open, she almost startles in a far too-human way.

For a moment there's a spark in her that lets her feel alive.

It doesn't last long.

"Mommy will soon be back," Toshio cuts through her thoughts, destroys the faint feeling of living even before Karen could really absorb it. The boy catches his cat that is never far away from him -- Mar it is called, he had told her some time ago -- then sits down beside Karen.

Without hesitation he snuggles against her, shares his coldness with Karen and after a moment, Karen puts her arm around his shoulder, allows the contact. He sighs in contentment as they both wait for Kayako to return.

-.-.-.-.-.-