***Welcome to another mini-fic! I couldn't pass up this idea when it came to me! Another hearty RusPrus fic with a twist! Hope you guys enjoy it! Read and review please! The more support I get, the more I want to write more!

***Warnings: Language, mention of suicide and murder, angst

***Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I am making no money off of this fic.

SUMMARY: When a mysterious package arrives at Ludwig's door he finds himself laden with the ghost of a murdered man named Gilbert who is searching the afterlife for his lost lover, Ivan. Ludwig must piece together clues to help both Gilbert and Ivan recover their memories and find each other to bring peace to their restless souls. But the murderer is still on the loose, and someone very close to Ludwig may be in danger, for the cycle of violence repeats. Can Ludwig find the murderer and save everyone involved? With the help his friend Alfred, a detective, and Arthur, a psychic, Ludwig may just have a chance.

Chapter 1: It's Not Patrick Swayze

"What is this? I didn't order or send for anything?" Ludwig asked the UPS man who stood at his apartment door with a small package.

"Sorry sir, but this IS the right address, and I AM speaking to Ludwig Beilschmidt?"

Ludwig nodded. "Yes, you are."

"Maybe it's a gift?" Offered the UPS man.

"What's the return address?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Doesn't say. That's weird though, now that I think about it. It was just handed to me by my manager. If you want," he fumbled for a business card. "Call this number and you can talk with the manager. Maybe he knows something more about it. I'm just the guy that delivers it." The man gave a lopsided smile as Ludwig took the package.

"Thank you. Goodbye." The first thing he did was call up the manager's number on the phone. There was no answer and it went right to voice mail. Ludwig left a message about the package.

Taking the package into the kitchen he took a moment to examine it. There was nothing strange about the box; standard UPS delivery box, brown with packaging tape. Ripping the tape he opened the flaps and peered inside, seeing only packaging peanuts. He frowned. Those damn things would get everywhere and stick to everything! Carefully, he began rooting through the green 's' shaped peanuts until he came across a letter in an envelope. Only his name was written on the front in flawless cursive. He opened the envelope and read the short letter.

Ludwig,

I can't help him anymore. If anyone can help him, it's you. Take what is in this box and go to this address. Good luck.

-A Friend

Ludwig rarely spoke to people anymore and had a very limited social life. He worked for the FBI but was never on the force or involved in any investigations. He was the guy who wrote up all the reports, just one of many in the department. It is his dream to save up enough money, enter the police academy, and go on to be a detective. In his spare time he liked to try and solve some cases himself as he typed them up. A few times, he had been right, yet never let on that he had figured out. No one would believe him, nor would they give him any credit.

So who was this 'friend' passing on such a letter?

Looking deeper into the box his fingers brushed across something solid. It was a small porcelain figurine of a white rabbit with gold detailed eyes, paws and tail with a pair of gold tipped angel (or bird) wings on its back. Ludwig found it strange. Underneath was the trademark 'Lenox' gold lettering. It looked like something that belonged in a little girl's bedroom. But what did it mean? Who sent it, and what were they speaking of in that letter?

Ludwig turned around and suddenly came face to face with another person. Frightened and surprised he fell into the kitchen table chair, landing on the floor. "Who are you? What do you want? How did you get in here?" He was certain he had locked the door after the delivery. "Get out before I call the pol…ice?" Ludwig's eyes widened in disbelief as he took in the full image before him.

The ghostly form a young man, about his age, maybe a little older, wearing a sorrowful expression. At first he thought he was just seeing things but after rubbing his eyes and shaking his head, the man was still there. He stood in the middle of the kitchen without any feet touching the floor, for he didn't have any! Ludwig had no other reason not to believe he had a ghost in his kitchen.

'Help me find him?' The ghost asked.

Ludwig surprised himself by actually responding. "Find who? Who are you? Are you a ghost? Am I dreaming?"

'I'm Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt.'

"Beilschmidt? That's my last name!" He stood up from the floor. "It's an unusual name to have in this city. I've never met another with the same. I'm Ludwig." He spoke in mystified awe. "Am I…really talking to you? A ghost?"

Gilbert ignored that and glanced at the figurine in Ludwig's hand. 'That's mine. He gave it to me.' He pointed to it. 'Help me find him?' Pleading eyes looked back at him. 'I miss him so much. I can't find him. I don't know what's happened to him. Please help me find him?'

Ludwig, wide-eyed, took a slow step towards the ghost. "Who are you looking for?"

'My polar bear.' Gilbert smiled momentarily. 'My Ivan. My one and only friend and lover. I've been looking for him…but I can't find him. Can you help me? Will you help me?'

"I…I don't know how to help you. You're a ghost." Ludwig wanted to help. He was surprised at himself for not screaming and running from the apartment, for just inches in front of him stood a ghost. Ludwig always saw himself as a realist, but this was beyond imagining. Maybe he really was dreaming? It seemed very real. "How can I help you? Who tried to help you before?"

'A friend. She tried very hard but couldn't help me. She gave up on me and now I am here.'

"She? She who?"

Gilbert looked down. 'I don't want to reveal her name. But you have to find Ivan for me! Please!' Gilbert put his hands together in a prayer. 'I'm so alone here! I don't know where I am or where to go! I know I want to find my Ivan! I need Ivan with me! I need to tell him of something terrible!'

"Tell him what? What do you need to tell him?" But Gilbert suddenly disappeared. The letter floated over to him and Ludwig read it one more time. "Address…go to this address. But there's no name, only a street and number." Acting as if nothing was strange he took to the computer to put the address in Google Maps. The address was found in center city, a bad part of town in an old rustic apartment building. "What am I doing?" He finally realized how stupid he was being.

This had to be a dream. A strange, weird dream that somehow felt real. 'I'm just overly tired from work.' He told himself. 'I guess it's time to rest. Then I'll wake up and everything will be the way it was. I wasn't really talking to a ghost. There are no ghosts.'

But it wasn't as he hoped. When he woke up from his nap, Gilbert was sitting at the end of the bed. He let out a gasp of shocked surprise, not expecting to see the ghost again. Gilbert turned around to look at him, his eyes crying ghostly tears. Suddenly, Ludwig felt a sense of remorse and sympathy for the ghost. Whatever the reason, he pushed true logic out of the way and spoke to the ghost. Something inside is telling him that it's alright, that he should do this. What was wrong with him?

"You're still here?"

'You have my figurine. Of course I'm here. My spirit is linked to that.' Gilbert held it in his hands. 'Ivan gave it to me. He has a matching one.' Gilbert smiled sadly. 'I think…if I can find that figurine I can find Ivan. But the living world is gone to me. I can't do anything in it but appear this way. You have to help me find him. Please! I can't live an eternity without him!'

"But, what happened to you? Do you know how you died?"

Gilbert stood up on invisible feet, walking (or rather floating) around the bed to stand beside Ludwig. 'I was murdered.'

"By whom?"

'I can't say his name. I can't even utter it. The words won't come. It's HIS curse, the man that killed me.' Gilbert sneered. 'If only I had told Ivan about him sooner. My Ivan would have tracked him down and smashed his fucking skull against the wall!' He growled, gritting his teeth.

Ludwig ignored the violent part. "Is he friend of yours? The one that murdered you, I mean. Was he a friend? Relative?'

'An old boyfriend.' Gilbert answered. 'A jealous one at that. He was mean, cruel and rotten but at that time I was in love with him. Or rather, I was in love with the idea of him. He did terrible things to me…things I endured simply because I was all alone in the world with nowhere to go. I had put my battered trust in him. That was…until I found Ivan.' He smiled longingly. 'I left him and went to Ivan. We found a little home together…but HE wouldn't have it. I never told Ivan about him. He doesn't know, so I have to find him and tell him. I was so confused then…but there's so much missing…so much I can't remember!' He sharply turned away, holding his fists to his eyes.

He felt sorry for the ghost, and surprisingly sympathetic. That wasn't usually like him. "People are much more likely to be murdered, raped or kidnapped by someone they know. Can you…tell me what this person looks like? Are they still alive? What is their job? What do they do?"

Gilbert shrugged his shoulders. 'I try so hard to remember but I can't. I know I was murdered. I want Ivan to know I was murdered. I want him to find my murderer and avenge me. You can join up with him and save me.' He smiled softly. 'The last one couldn't get far because she did not have FBI connections like you do. That's what she said. So, Ludwig, will you help me find him?'

"You want me to find Ivan and tell him this? Tell him of your story?"

'Find him for me. Be my angel on earth?' He held out the figurine to Ludwig. 'Help me find him. Help me remember. Help bring me to rest.' And with that he faded away.

Ludwig stared blankly at the spot where Gilbert had stood for a long while before breaking out of his trance to pick up the figurine. "Help you find him, hm? It's…not the case I would want…nor can I present this to the FBI without being thrown in a nut house, so why do it at all?" He frowned deeply. "But what else do I have to do?"

The answer was, literally, nothing. Everyday it was the same. He would get up, go to work, come home and go to bed. Repeat. Occasionally he would find time to read, watch a television show or rent a movie. Sometimes he would go for a nightly walk around the park. Taking up a very bizarre and ludicrous case like this would give him something constructive to do with his time. His life had been dull and boring ever since he broke up with his lover, Feliciano Vargas, last winter. It wasn't a terrible break up; they parted as mutual friends yet haven't spoken since then. Ludwig knew it was all his fault now but he had too much pride to go crawling back. And almost a year has passed, so no doubt Feliciano found someone else in his life. The man was full of that: life, and it was accompanied by constant optimism with a warm, friendly smile. Feliciano was gentle, kind and tender, "And I threw it all away."

'You can't change the past.' He reminded himself. 'And there's always a chance to change.'

"I'll do it." He held the figurine to his chest. "I'll help them!"

His first stop was the apartment building. He took a cab most of the way and walked the rest, fondling the figurine in his coat pocket. The wintery air nipped at his nose and cheeks, making him wrap the scarf higher on his face. He looked at the address on the mystery letter and it matched the building in front of him. Glancing up, he noticed how run down it was. The window unit air conditioners were rusted over. The old bricks were separating or cracked. There were black bars over the windows, also rusted with some bent. Ludwig wondered if anyone actually lived here? He saw a light come on at the third floor window; somebody was home.

'I remember this place.' Gilbert's voice suddenly spoke in his head.

Ludwig was alarmed for a moment but then answered back, 'Do you? What relevance is it?'

'I…I'm not sure. I recognize it…but…I don't know if it's good or bad.' Gilbert appeared beside him, looking up at the building with him. 'I feel…well…whatever I'm feeling now…it's a warm feeling.' He smiled sadly at Ludwig. 'Finally, a warm feeling! I've been cold for so long.'

Ludwig took another moment to look at Gilbert's ghostly face; a face that though mostly transparent held all the sorrow and despair of the world. Ludwig wondered that if he touched him, or passed through him, would he feel that same bout of sorrow? Gilbert's features were so woeful. Heavy eyelids hung tiredly under frowning brows accompanied by a constant soft pout. All the sadness of the world was right here before him in those lonely, haunting eyes. How could he abandon Gilbert, ghost or not? He may have failed once in love but he couldn't let Gilbert and Ivan fail as well. Maybe helping the ghost will give him some sense of closure for the guilt he felt over breaking up with Feli.

'I guess we'll find out.' Ludwig went up the steps and rang the main desk buzzer, or what he assumed was the main desk since it was the only red one. The door unlocked and an old woman, short and plump with heavy wrinkles peeked out at him. "Good day."

"Wha- you want?" She asked dryly.

"Um," he checked the letter again. "I'm here to see the tenant who lives in 4B?"

The old lady snuffed, clearing some mucus from her throat with a stream of hacks. "Ain't nobody been up there in a long time."

"Who lived there last? Do you remember?"

She opened the door more. "Come in. It's too cold out there for old bones." She let Ludwig step inside and closed the door behind him. "That guy's no longer here. Gone he is. Don't know where."

"Did he say anything to you when he left?"

She thought for a moment. "He got some bad news, I thinks. But good ridden! That man is a sinner! Sinner, I tell you! Him and that…that man-girl he had with him! I don'ts rent to Russians and dandies! Commie's better dead, me thinks. Gonna bomb us all! Just you watch! But times hard. I need money and money's still green, Commie or not."

Ludwig was a little uncomfortable but ignored her racial slurs. "Is anyone up there now?"

"You wanna rent?"

"No, thank you." He said quickly. "I just want to check the room for something. I…knew somebody who used to frequent that room. I just want to see if they left something of mine they borrowed." That was a cheap story but the woman was feeble minded enough to where she may just believe it.

"No one's up there now. Feel free to go look. Nothin' to take."

"Thank you. I won't be long." Ludwig was pleased to get away from her but kept looking back should she go crazy and come after him with a knife. It was almost too easy.

'Ivan's not a Commie! And I'm not a man-girl!'

'It doesn't matter now. I've long since stopped questioning crazy people. Here it is, room 4B.'

He tried the knob and it opened with a squeak. Peeking in first he scoped the area, finding only empty space, dust, cobwebs and rug stains. Holding his breath he stepped inside. The room was very small with a living area, attached kitchen, a disgusting bathroom and a doorway leading to what can only be a bedroom. The smell of the room was too much to bear so to keep from vomiting he left quickly. Coughing, he used his scarf to catch whatever bile threatened to come up. When none came he lowered it from his face with a gasp of air.

'Please, try again!' Gilbert said to him. 'I lived here with Ivan! Please go back inside! Find him!'

'That place is terrible! No one can live here! It's a slum!'

'Please, try again!' Gilbert begged. 'I'm a fucking ghost! Throw me a bone here!'

Ludwig wasn't expecting the sudden attitude coming from the woeful ghost but he did as Gilbert said. But when he opened the door this time he did not see the same room he previously entered. The room smelt better, of vodka and…vanilla? Mostly vodka. The carpet was clean. The walls were clean. The kitchen and living room were clean. There was mismatched limited furniture, all old and patched up. "What is happening?" He looked around in disbelief. "This wasn't here before."

'Hello.' Came a voice from the bedroom doorway.

Ludwig looked to see a large, stocky man with a big nose and almost silver hair, more of a pale blonde. He wore a long sleeved black shirt and jeans with gray Converse sneakers. Around his neck was a pale scarf, a winter scarf, being worn as an accent to the outfit? In his right hand was a vodka bottle half full. The man looked to be tipsy yet his smile was friendly and soft.

"And you are?"

'Ivan.'

Ludwig's eyes widened. "Ivan? You're Ivan?" 'Gilbert, it's Ivan!' But Gilbert didn't answer.

'I am.' Ivan walked out into the living room. 'What brings you here?' He smiled politely. 'I haven't seen anyone in awhile.'

'Is he a ghost too?' "Um…my name is Ludwig." He was going to make this easy. "Ludwig Beilschmidt." He saw the shocked look on Ivan's face.

'Beilschmidt? Did you say 'Beilschmidt'?'

"I did."

Ivan turned sorrowful, the same aura of depression and despair that Gilbert had. 'Did you know a Gilbert Beilschmidt? Are you related to him?'

"Not that I know of. It's not a common name to hear in this city but I don't keep in touch with my family. I never really did." He was wondering why Gilbert wasn't speaking to him now. Ivan was right in front of him! Why wouldn't Gilbert answer? "Um, can I ask something before we go further? This room was a dump a minute ago…why is it…normal now?"

Ivan just smiled at him. 'I don't get visitors.' He chuckled. 'This room is haunted, you know.'

Ludwig raised a brow. "Haunted? Does that explain why the room is normal now? This is your ghost home?"

'What do you think?' Ivan walked up to him, both the same height, and leaned forward smelling of vodka. He gave a smile, a child's smile, who knew a secret or perhaps that of a bully who has set their sights on a new target. 'Do you know Gilbert Beilschmidt?'

Ludwig took a deep breath before answering. "I know him…but like you…he is no longer a part of this world."

Strangely, Ivan started to laugh. 'I know that. I know he's dead. I know he's dead!' He slapped a hand to his face as he continued to laugh. 'I know he's dead!' A purple eye peeked through fingers. 'That's why I'm dead too. Life is not worth living if I can't be with my Gilbert.' He gave a bright smile with tears of blood pouring down his cheeks. 'But I can't find him. Do you know where he is?' The bloody tears kept pouring down round cheeks, accompanying a smile that wasn't a smile. 'He's lost without me. He needs me, and I need him. What if he is scared and frightened? What if he is all alone and crying for me? Please help me find him! If you can see me, then you can see him!'

"He's looking for you. And you're here. He's spoken to me already. He says he wants to tell you something, something important. He talks to me but right now he won't say a word and I don't know why." 'Something must be wrong' Ludwig thought to himself. 'Something is missing here.'

Ludwig reached into his pocket and pulled out the figurine. He stared down at it for a moment. "He said you have a matching one."

'I did.' Ivan looked at the figurine longingly. 'I can't find it now. It was taken from me.'

"Who took it from you?"

'I don't know.' Ivan peered at him with tear-filled eyes. 'If you're helping him…will you help me too? I have to find my Gilbie. My snowbunny.'

"I want to help but I need to know more about him."

'You speak to him, you said?' Ivan's expression became hopeful. 'Please tell him that I love him and-' he started to disappear in a fit of zigzags, like a flickering television station. 'And that-' Ivan didn't get to finish his sentence as he zapped away in an explosion of light.

Ludwig had to shield his eyes from the light. When he felt it was safe he lowered his arms only to stare wide eyed at the dump of a room once again. 'Where did he go?' Ludwig thought to himself. 'What happened to the room?' He turned around to leave and nearly bumped into another man.

"What are you doing here?" Asked the middle aged man.

"I…um…the landlady let me in. I was just-"

The man cut him off. "She's my elderly mother and is ill. I'm the landlord. You had no right to come up here. Are you with the police?"

"No, but I work for the FBI."

The man gave a cruel smile. "That means nothing to me. Now get out before I do call the police! I don't need those guys snooping around in here again! Now leave my building!" Ludwig didn't have to be told twice if only to get away from the smell.

He went to a nearby park and sat down at a busted old fountain to clear his head. Just what was he doing? What was he getting himself in to? Nothing made sense, all these ghosts and deaths. Although, he had many questions he wanted to answer. Both Gilbert and Ivan are dead, but how did they die? Gilbert was murdered, but how? Ivan obviously committed suicide, but how? Why did the landlord say he didn't want more cops poking around? Why was Ivan in that room and Gilbert in the figurine? Something must have happened in that room. It was possible that Ivan killed himself in there.

'Did you find him?' Gilbert suddenly appeared beside him on the bench. 'Did you find Ivan?'

"Where were you when I was speaking to him?"

Gilbert's eyes widened. 'I…I didn't know you were speaking to him! I thought you were just looking around the room! I was in a state of…well…I felt like I had fallen asleep, then I woke up and we were here!'

Ludwig told him of what he saw and what Ivan had said. "Then he just disappeared."

'He loves me.' Gilbert said with a dreamy look up at the winter sky. 'He's the only one that ever did.'

"Well…that brings me to the bad news." He glanced at Gilbert. "Ivan is dead as well."

Gilbert's face was still smiling but it was the frozen smile of someone who couldn't believe what they had just heard. 'What?' He stared at Ludwig blankly.

"He's dead. He told me that he's dead. He didn't say how he died. And I didn't tell him that you were murdered. I thought you wanted to tell him but you never spoke up." He saw that Gilbert was on the verge of tears. "This is why you can't find him. He's dead too and is looking for you. Something is keeping you two apart even when you're close."

Gilbert slapped his hands to his face and began to cry. 'I'll never find him!'

"I found him!" Ludwig said quickly. "I just…need to find out more about your story, your murder, and his death! There is much I need to do but I need you to help me as much as you can!"

The ghost faded away, leaving only a single tear that dropped to the fountain stone.

Ludwig sighed. "I shouldn't be doing this. I must be out of my mind."

The next day at work Ludwig was thankful for the slow report day for it gave him time to go through some case files. Most of the files were password protected. His goal was to try and search for their names and then bribe one of the detectives to give him the password. Getting another idea, Ludwig left his desk to find a detective instead. He knew just the one for the job. The young man was in his office on the phone. Ludwig waited patiently for him to be done.

"Hey Ludwig! How's it going?"

"I'm fine, Alfred. I have a favor to ask of you."

Alfred leaned back in his chair. "Sure, what is it?"

"I need your passcode for the protective files in the system."

"Why would you need it? You're not a cop or a detective. Those files are confidential." Alfred raised an eyebrow at him. "Come in and shut the door. Don't let people hear." Ludwig did so. "Why do you want to get in the files?"

"A friend of mine is asking for help. It's…well, it's a bit complicated." He blushed in embarrassment. Alfred would laugh at him if he mentioned anything about ghosts. "I'm looking for the deaths of two men. One is named Gilbert Beilschmidt and the other is Ivan, but I didn't get his last name."

"Isn't that your last name?" Ludwig nodded. "Hm…the name is ringing bell." Alfred tapped his temple. "Gilbert…Gilbert…it's such a weird old name to come across! That might be why I'm remembering it."

"He was murdered." Ludwig added. "He had a lover. His lover was Ivan. Gilbert was murdered by someone and I want to see his file, if the department has it."

Alfred played with a paper clip. "It might not be in our district, but we can check the city files anyway." He smiled. "Give me a day to make some calls? I think I can help you out. In exchange…" He grinned.

Ludwig rolled his eyes. "Just take it." He reached into his wallet and pulled out a frequent members dining card of a popular Italian restaurant. It had been Feliciano's before they broke up. "Get all the discounts you want."

Alfred grinned and inhaled deeply, smelling the card. "Ah, I can smell that pizza now!"

"Just get me the files."

After work, Ludwig decided to take a stroll and clear his thoughts despite the chill in the air. He wanted to have access to those files immediately, the wait was irking him. There had to be something he could do while waiting for those files? His mindless walking landed him in a small shopping village, a stream of small shops and clothing stores. He had only been here once in his lifetime to attend a retirement party at some tea place. This area is known for their unique vintage shops, hobby stores and hippie clothes. It was a nice enough area to walk through.

Something inside of him made his stomach tingle, the feel one gets when they are nervous or overly excited. His eyes caught sight of a magic store with its windows painted in pagan designs and other symbols he didn't know. The closer he got the more his stomach tingled. The painted words on the window read,

'Antique Nightmare'

Psychic and Magic Specialty Shop

He read the chalkboard sign that bore a large bird's skull at the top, its beak open towards the wording,

Psychic Reading: $65

Palm Reading: $10

Fortune: $25

Séances: By Appointment Only

"Séances? Isn't that what they use to talk to ghosts in the movies?" Ludwig thought out loud. "Well, I'm plagued with a ghost so…I'll give it a try." He walked inside and was immediately overcome with incense, making him sneeze.

"Welcome." Came a British accent from the desk in the center of the store. "I'm Arthur. Nice to meet you, Ludwig."

Ludwig stared at him, dumbstruck. "How did you know my name?"

Green eyes twinkled as he smirked, fixing the odd circlet atop his blonde hair. "I know a lot of things. Comes with the gift I have. And by the way, who's that with you?"

"With me?"

Arthur pointed. "Your friend. The ghost."

"Wait, you can see him?" Ludwig looked behind him but didn't see Gilbert. "But he's not there."

"Oh, he's there. I can see his spiritual aura, his life force. It's all around you. Right now he's hiding, and I sense he is in great despair."

If anyone would understand him it was this Brit with psychic powers. He didn't have to be shy. "Yes, I do have a ghost. I acquired him through a gift from a mysterious friend. I don't know much about him, but this figurine I have," he took it out "is his…vessel, I guess?"

Arthur stared at the rabbit figurine. "His spirit is attached to that item. There must be a reason. Ghosts don't just hop into the most random or nearest object they can find."

"He has a lover. A lover that he is looking for. They have matching figurines. My ghost, Gilbert, is trying to find his lover. I went to their old home and met his lover's ghost, Ivan. But he said he didn't have the figurine, and when I was talking to him Gilbert wouldn't answer. It was like he wasn't even listening, or he couldn't see Ivan at all."

Arthur held out his hand. "Let me see that figurine." Ludwig held it tighter. "It's alright, I won't break it. Let me see it. I may be able to tell you more, or at least speak to your ghost." Ludwig handed it to him. Gilbert popped out. "Greetings." He smiled.

Gilbert narrowed his eyes at the man. 'You can see me? You some kind of witch?'

Arthur rolled his eyes. "If you have to give me a label, at least call me a 'warlock' or 'wizard'. Psychic will do too."

Gilbert looked back to Ludwig. 'Why are we here? I want to find Ivan!'

"Arthur may be able to help you, and me." Ludwig answered. "He can see you too. I need all the help I can get."

Ghostly eyes turned back to Arthur. 'Can you find my Ivan?'

Arthur stroked the figurine with his black lace gloved hand. "You won't be able to find him unless you can find where the other figurine went. His figurine is missing. Those two items are what link you together. Something special came from these items. It was a special bond you both shared. What was it?"

Gilbert sadly glanced to the side. 'It was a gift, for the both of us. I…I can't remember much else. There is so much I can't remember!' He grabbed his head. 'This is driving me mad!'

"Calm down." Arthur gently scolded. "Ludwig said you were murdered. Who murdered you?"

'An old boyfriend. Ex boyfriend…but I don't know his name. I can't remember his name or his face. Whenever he shows up in my visions he's all black…like a shadow man. I…I can't remember the reason he murdered me. I think…I think Ivan knew him…but didn't know of the relationship I had with him. I don't know, I could just be making all this up!'

"Then he's not dead." Arthur said firmly. "He's still alive, this man who murdered you." He looked to Ludwig. "Get the murderer," then to Gilbert "And you will be with your lost love."

Ludwig came up to the desk. "Ivan killed himself but he doesn't remember how. I assume it was over Gilbert's death, for he said he knew Gilbert was dead already."

Arthur put the figurine down and took out a cigarette, lighting it. "Those who die horribly, commit suicide, have unfinished business or just die with vengeance for something tend to end up as ghosts wandering the living world. They can't find their way out. They are in a constant maze of uncertainty and confusion. They are lost, scared, frightened and even malevolent. Our Gilbert here was murdered: he died tragically. This Ivan probably took his own life after knowing the death of Gilbert, as you said. Hence how they became ghosts."

Gilbert turned around to Ludwig and slowly floated over to him. 'That sounds like Ivan…killing himself because I would never be with him again. I remember that…that he always use to say that if I die, he wants to die too.' He wiped away a tear.

"You won't know your true self or happiness again until you are reunited with Ivan." Arthur said. "You have to find the figurine. That will bring you together."

"But Ivan doesn't know where it is." Ludwig reached over to the take the figurine back. "I'm really hoping that Alfred finds the files on Gilbert or Ivan. That's my detective friend. He's working on it now. But in the mean time…is there anything I can do for Gilbert?" Ludwig looked at the ghost.

Arthur blew out a stream of smoke. "I can try to summon the Others."

"Others?" Both Gilbert and Ludwig repeated together.

"That's what I call them. Spirits on the other side. The ones that stay between the barriers of this world and the next. If I summon them, they may be able to give us some insights to Gilbert issues. Maybe even help with his memories."

'Please!' Gilbert begged him. 'Oh please do it! I'll do anything to get my memories back and find Ivan!'

"I agree." Ludwig gave a nod. "We'll do it. How much?"

Arthur smiled. "Free. It's not every day I get a real person with a real ghost in my shop. Usually they are teenage mock goth girls thinking they have magic powers or some emo kid thinking they can talk to ghosts. Trust me, you guys are refreshing." Arthur went to lock the door and put the 'CLOSED' sign up. "Come with me into the back." He pulled open a purple curtain for them. "Ludwig, you can sit at the table. Gilbert, I want you to lay on it. On your back." Both men did as asked. "Now I encourage you, Ludwig, to keep an open mind. There will be strange things appearing, but you must not think they are fake. One ounce of skepticism and the link between worlds will vanish. The Spirits have a zero tolerance for rudeness."

'Do they expect to be tipped, too?' Gilbert joked.

Arthur glared. "The Spirits don't like snarky comments." He took a seat at the table as well. "Now then, I need you both to close your eyes and try to clear your minds. Listen only to my words. When I tell you to open your eyes, do so slowly, and remember, keep an open mind."

Ludwig closed his eyes, focusing on the strange chant of unfamiliar words coming from Arthur's mouth. He wanted to peek but knew better. 'Keep an open mind.' He reminded himself.

Gilbert closed his eyes as well. The chanting from Arthur was making him feel strange inside. It was building up a warmth in him, a pleasurable warmth that reminded him of Ivan. In his minds' eye, Gilbert saw himself sitting by a large window in a white hospital suit. The next image was of himself on a couch with a bottle of open pills on the coffee table. Another was of him crouching in a corner, battered and bleeding from a brutal beating. Another showed him running into Ivan's arms as the large man swung him around merrily. The happy image was torn quickly, sending him to another image of a room with light green stone walls and tiled floor.

'You are sick, Gilbert.' Came a strangely familiar voice. 'So sick…poor boy. All alone in the world. Unwanted by everyone…except for me.' Gilbert's ghostly body twitched. 'Take these pills. They will help you.' A stream of sentences from the same voice filled his head.

'Did you take too many? You poor thing. Come. Come to me. Sit down and rest. It will wear off soon.'

'Good morning, Gilbert. How are we today?'

'Where are you going? Your place is here with me, where I can keep you safe.'

'You are very sick, Gilbert. No one wants to be around you because you are sick. In here.' A dark form touched his head. 'But I can help you. I always make it all better.'

'Nobody wants you. But I want you.'

Finally, Gilbert heard his own voice. 'Somebody wants me! And it's not you!'

'DON'T YOU LEAVE THIS HOUSE!'

'I'M GOING AWAY FROM YOU! I'M GOING WHERE I AM LOVED BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT I DESERVE! YOUR ASS WILL END UP IN JAIL! GET AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY! NO! NO! NOOOOOO!'

Gilbert burst awake from the trance, panting heavily and crying blood, the same as Ivan.

Arthur looked over at Ludwig through Gilbert's body.

Ludwig had witnessed everything that Gilbert had seen, and he can assume that Arthur saw it as well.

"Gilbert?" Arthur spoke his name softly. "Do those images help you to remember anything specific?"

'No.' Gilbert covered his mouth.

"Let him be." Ludwig said. "He's had a bad time right now. Let him rest." Arthur waved him over with his hand. Ludwig got up and followed the man outside the room, leaving Gilbert alone to stare at the wall. "Did you see all that?"

Arthur nodded. "I did. I sensed there was a barrier in his memories. The strange thing is," he cupped his chin in thought. "I felt other magic involved. Magic that was not my own. He was murderer for sure, and the one who did it dabbled in magic as well."

Ludwig frowned deeply, slumping his shoulders. "Am I on Candid Camera? Am I secretly auditioning for a role in a Harry Potter sequel or something?"

Arthur raised a brow. "Are you being humorously sarcastic? You don't come off as the type."

"Oh. I'm full of laughs." He said flatly. "But I just…" he rubbed his forehead and sighed. "I want to become a real detective, not just write up reports. I feel like, if I keep following with this case, which keeps getting stranger and stranger, I'll end up being like that girl in that 'Ghost Whisperer' show. There's no respect in that."

Arthur clicked his tongue. "Um, you are saying that to a Medium right in front you. I hope you know that?"

"Sorry. But what do I do now? That doesn't give us a lot to go on. The memories are choppy."

"Well, he was in a hospital, which to me looked like a mental ward. He was on pills. He was murdered by the person giving them to him. Gilbert obviously fell for this man's cheap lies. Maybe this guy was a drug dealer?"

Ludwig tapped his fist in his palm. "Perhaps it was a doctor! It could be a drug dealer, but if Gilbert was in a mental hospital, then it might be a doctor who did all this. Doctors falling for or dating their patients isn't something new."

Arthur crossed his arms. "Well, there's quite a few mental wards in this city. You'll have to check them all and see if Gilbert was ever a patient at one of them."

"But why would the doctor murder him?" Ludwig thought out loud. "It sounded like…like Gilbert knew something. Like he was going to expose this doctor for what he was doing. Illegal distribution of prescription drugs? Doctors have that power."

"Very possible. But you won't know anything standing around here. Take the ghost home, relax a bit, clear your mind, and then tomorrow go out to the mental wards. Keep in touch with me too. I want to help in any way that I can." He gave Ludwig his business card. "Call me, day or night. Doesn't matter what time."

"Thank you for all your help, Arthur."

Back in his apartment, Ludwig sat on the couch, eating a cheese sandwich as Gilbert stared blankly at the television beside him. Ludwig didn't have full cable since he wasn't big on watching television but he did pay for Netflix. Right now they were watching the news, which was predicting a snow storm heading in their direction.

'Ivan hated the snow, but I loved it.' Gilbert suddenly spoke.

"Why did he hate snow?"

"He grew up in Russia, in the very snowy parts of Russia. He always liked the spring and summer here because it was warm weather. I like the snow, though.' He gave a little smile. 'Even though Ivan didn't like it, we would take night walks in the snow together. I remember…ah, I remember him and I standing under a street lamp, looking up at the dark sky and the snow as it came whispering down. We stood there for awhile. The city streets were silent. It was just us. We both had snow on our heads! Ivan sneezed, and I chuckled. Then he…' Gilbert looked down at his lap. 'Then he wrapped us both in his scarf, covering our ears and noses! We gave nose nuzzles and kissed…it was a beautiful night…and I remember that! I remember that night!'

Ludwig found himself smiling at the sweetness of the story. "It must have been a beautiful night. Sounds like you two were really in love, and still are, despite everything."

'Yeah. Have you ever been in love, Ludwig?' Gilbert turned and asked him.

Ludwig shifted on the couch. "No. No, I haven't."

'You hesitated. Hey, come on, tell me! Tell me who you loved! It was obviously SOMEONE! Look at your face! It-' Gilbert stopped his banter when he saw Ludwig's expression become guilty, and sad. 'Ludwig? Did something…bad happen?'

"I…was in a relationship a year or so ago. We'd been dating for…I guess, maybe six months. We were both happy…"

'But?'

"But he was just…too different from me. He's a crybaby and a whiner. Always afraid, always worried. Very lazy. He liked to lay around and do nothing. So we just broke it off…"

'BUT?' Gilbert was growing annoyed with how long Ludwig was taking to answer.

Ludwig thought of Feliciano at the day of the street fair when they had broken up. Feli had a stuffed bear in his arms and cotton candy in his hand. Ludwig could remember the pure smile of joy on Feliciano's face that day, and then the look of heartbreak when they broke up. "But…sometimes I wonder if I had done the right thing…breaking up with him. Despite all his annoying flaws they only made up a quarter of his personality. He was always supportive, friendly, gentle, happy, care-free, easy-going, open-minded, non-judgmental, always willing to help, even if he couldn't. He liked to cook and bake and eat…he loved having people over for dinner. And he was a boozer. A wine drinker, always the wine. But he was someone you could confide in, a good listener…and…and he loved me."

'Sounds like you still love him and miss him.' Gilbert had inched closer. 'You never know what you're missing until you don't have it…and looks like you've realized that. You should call him. Go find him! Let him know how you really feel!' Gilbert held up his hand. 'You don't want to ever regret, Ludwig. Put your hand against mine.'

Ludwig pressed his hand on Gilbert's but it went right through the ghostly flesh. Gilbert's body was so cold.

'This is what regret looks like. This is what loneliness and sorrow is.' He continued to weave his hand and fingers through Ludwig's own. 'You don't want to realize something until it's too late. I'm already dead, but you still have time to change things. Don't wait for it to be too late. Don't let guilt and despair swallow you up, for it's a pit you may never get out of.'

If it wasn't just endless sorrow in those haunting eyes it was solid truth, too.

Ludwig pulled his hand away quickly. "I can't."

Gilbert sadly turned his head and faded away.

End Chapter 1 TBC

***The title is a joke on the 1990 movie 'Ghost' with Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore. It's a WONDERFUL movie. A tear-jerker. If you haven't seen it, I suggest you do.

***Since this is a mini fic, I'm going to try to push it along faster. That's not something I normally do. Hope you all like it so far! PLEASE let me know what you think! Thanks again!