Be With You

Summary: After being exorcised by Jack, Jesse has a lot to think about. Reflecting on past incidents with Susannah, Jesse wonders if she really wanted him gone. (Face it; it's boring up in shadowland if you're not going through any of the doors)

Inspired by Enrique Inglesia's song of the same name.

So that was it then. This was where I was supposed to be. In this misted hallway with an endless line of doors on each side. I didn't dare touch any of them. I knew that even though I was a good man, I did not want to go through. Not just yet.

But apparently someone made that decision for me.

As that boy explained, I wasn't wanted by her side any longer. Jack, I believe his name was, had said that he was doing Susannah a favor with this exorcism. Was it possible? At first, I did not believe it myself. Susannah would have told me herself if she wanted me gone. She would have….

I remembered last night, when I found her in her younger stepbrother's room. At first I thought she was being silly. Susannah was not normally such a cautious person, to be hiding in a different bedroom. But when I saw what she carried with her, I couldn't help but laugh. A hammer certainly was Susannah's way of doing things. I had not meant to upset her. It was just very… Susannah. Endearing.

And then she brought up Maria. I thought I must have heard wrong. Maria had been long dead and at rest for over a hundred years. Why would she bother returning now? And then Susannah mentioned the knife. My Susannah had been threatened by Maria, the same woman who ordered my own death, with a knife at her throat.

Even though she was still mad at me for laughing at her, I pulled Susannah tightly into my arms and muttered praises to the Lord that she was alright. I hadn't meant to do it, but the thought of Susannah so close to death made me genuinely afraid. Death was not a place for a girl like her. The only saving grace of the moment was that I said this in Spanish so Susannah wasn't aware.

Or at least, I hope she wasn't.

Nombre de Dios, I admit it. I have a fondness for Susannah Simon. It had started out innocently. One hundred and fifty years after my death, I finally had someone to talk to. Someone to just casually drop in on… and perhaps poke fun with in my spare time. Much like how I was to my hermanitas. I didn't have to worry about formalities of my upbringing and could speak frankly about exactly what I thought. And she would, of course, snap just as frankly back. I enjoyed it.

No, it was Susannah that I liked being around. She was just so different than the doñas I had met in the past, with their frivolous worries about what dress they'll wear to the masquerade or what ranchero has gotten into trouble with gambling again. Not that Susannah didn't care about how she looked. She did, certainly. She was still a young woman, after all – something which I was all too aware sometimes. But that didn't stop her from doing what she deemed necessary. It was her duty as a mediator to carry out the last justice of any wayward souls.

And she wasn't as tough as she fancied herself to be. When she first arrived and crossed paths with that Heather girl, Susannah claimed she could handle herself. I knew better. I found her, as she would say, "dealing" with the girl on the Mission grounds. Well, it wasn't in Susannah's favor, to put it lightly. After we made a hasty retreat, I was surprised when she thanked me, somewhat embarrassed but still heartfelt. If there was still blood in my veins, a blush would have crept up to my face. For some reason her embarrassment made me uncomfortable as well. Like something was happening that shouldn't. And I should have spotted it right then. I was becoming attached to Susannah.

It happened again when a boy named Tad brought her home. I thought she was a bit late coming home and knew that Susannah had probably managed to visit the man that her father explicitly told her not to. When a car pulled up to the house, I recognized Susannah immediately but not the boy. That was when he leaned over and kissed her. Before I could even tell myself that everything about this was inappropriate, I had materialized into the backseat just as that this Tad put his tongue in her mouth. If Susannah hadn't noticed me just then, I might've done something I would have regretted later. We yelled at each other shortly after, but I don't recall exactly what was said. I do, however, remember that we ended up inches away from each other's faces because of it.

Susannah's expression suddenly changed and I noticed her lips part ever so slightly. Dios… If David had not come outside, I don't know what would've happened.

Actually, I do know what would've happened and that makes me flustered. We don't attract each other on purpose.

I paced back and forth in the hallway, running a trembling hand through my hair in frustration. That was a lie and I knew it. Alright, so maybe I might've let a tease or two slip a bit out of context. I tried to act casual about it though, but from the slight squeak that came from Susannah's response, I'm sure she caught it.

So what was it then that made Susannah persuade a boy to have me sent here? Was I the one that was too forward? I dwelled on this possibility, thinking that maybe my subtle actions had driven her away. But that couldn't be. Even if Susannah was angry with me, she would have yelled at me herself, just as she always does.

And then it, as Susannah would say, hit me. Susannah wasn't angry with me. It was much worse. She was afraid.

The closest I had ever seen her to tears before last night was in the hospital about a month before. The look she gave me when she implied that I had not been in to see her was what crushed me. She went farther and explained that was upset with herself for going so far, almost killing a young man who had tried to arrange an "accident" with her step-family. I understood though, and told her so. I wanted to comfort her, to reach out and hold her bruised, beautiful face in my hands. I almost did so too, but held back partway to simply stroke her cheek. Susannah looked speechless, regardless. I let her know that I just didn't want to see her hurt. Not ever.

But last night, she did cry. Not the fake sort that my sisters would display when they had a tantrum, but honest tears from a scared girl. But that wasn't the real surprise. It was the fact that Susannah was scared of losing me.

Apparently, she had found out about my death long before with the help of David. I had avoided the subject of my death for a time because I wasn't sure if she'd understand. I had been engaged once, yes, but times were different. The marriage was a social contract between our fathers, two of the most well-known dons of the region. No, in this present time of genders mixing and freedom of "dating" – which just seems to be a far more open and vague form of courting – there wasn't any way for Susannah to understand. So I hid it.

But Susannah knew. She knew all too well when Maria held that knife against her throat. But it wasn't her own safety she was worried about. Susannah said that the discovery of my remains would trigger my "moving on," which she apparently did not want. She wanted me to stay. I cannot even begin to describe the relief I felt when she said it. I had to bite back the grin from the growing warmth I felt for her because I didn't want Susannah to think I was laughing at her again.

She had asked, sniffling, "Really? You promise?"

I smiled and wiped away her tears. "I swear." I had meant it too.

So why was I here? Alone in this hallway?

Susannah… wanted me to move on. That's the only possible reason. She must have come to the conclusion that I had to, no matter how much she wanted me to stay. Susannah probably couldn't face me after that night. I believed her when she said she "liked having me around." But just as Father Dominic wanted for all spirits, Susannah made me crossover. I could not blame her. It was her duty.

But that didn't stop it from hurting.

I had probably been here for hours, maybe even days, walking along the corridor. So why hadn't I opened a door yet if this was where I was supposed to be? Where Susannah wanted me to be?

Because it didn't feel right. I couldn't get my mind off the fact that Susannah sent me here. But if she did not want me there, with her, I could not change her mind. I would not.

I stopped and looked at the door to my right. Identical to all the other doors in the hallway. Without her, there was no point in going back. I needed Susannah. Far more than she needed me. She had a life without me. A living one, with friends and boys and school. With a pang of sadness, I realized I was not necessary in Susannah Simon's life. She was not my querida to have to myself. Ghosts did not "date" the living.

I reached out to take the door knob when I suddenly heard a voice in the distance. An indistinct one, but somehow commanding. I let my hand drop and turned back towards the voice. A figure was in the mist, but too far away to make out clearly. Curiosity was too strong, so I walked down the hallway to meet this person. With a sudden bit of morbid humor, I thought that perhaps this was God to tell me of my grievous sins I had just wallowed in.

But God does not wear a dress and a length of rope.

I stopped abruptly as I took in exactly what I was seeing. Bright green eyes were staring at me, just as surprised as I was. She said, a bit nervous, "Oh," and fidgeted with her bangs which only slightly covered a bruise on her forehead. "Hi."

My thoughts caught up with me in a rush: Susannah, the girl who turned my whole afterlife around, was here.

A/N: Not my best, but just needed to get this off my mind before continuing with Querida Mia. Hope you enjoyed it.