Chapter Two


For Mercedes, coffee was one of the few normal things she had left. People always wanted coffee no matter the time of day, and because of it always reminded her of the home she long abandoned, even if it came with some drawbacks.

"If you mess that up again," Rachel said from the back room, "it's coming out your pay check."

Her hand shook, and tried to force a smile.

"Don't worry she doesn't bite."

Mercedes rolled her eyes ignoring the other barista Sam, who despite randomly quoting obscure movies, was was perhaps the lesser of two evils of the one-two punch that was aspiring Broadway starlet Rachel Berry and her good intentioned boyfriend Finn.

"Just because she got turned down for community theater doesn't mean she can take it out on me."

Sam opened his mouth to reply.

"You quote Star Wars again and I'll- " Mercedes threatened.

"Could you close for me again?" Sam interrupted.

"Why not Finn?"

Sam laughed and pointed beyond the coffee machines.

Finn moved about the mostly empty coffee shop, cleaning up humming 80s soft rock under his breath. At a table an off duty doctor scowled as he passed.

"Fine," she grumbled, "but why do you need-" she begun only to stop when she saw Kurt run into the shop.

"Hide me!" he hissed, "I'm being chased."

Mercedes looked on curiosity as Kurt ducked under the counter nearly knocking over Sam.

"Why can't you find a better excuse not to go grocery shopping?"

Kurt shushed her, as a man stormed into the store, nearly knocking over the display of coffee mugs.

"Are you looking for something?" the doctor had stood up clutching her cup of coffee like a weapon, staring up at the burly man. "Because whatever it is you won't find it here."

The man looked around, directly at Mercedes and Sam, his eyes darting to the bar.

He took a step forward, but the doctor, wagged a manicured red tip in front of him, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"You wrecked my car, Hummel and I'm going to wait until I get the money out of you!" he side eyed the doctor. "Outside!"

He stomped out nearly knocking over the display.

"You're a coward" the doctor said coming to counter, she directed her voice to Kurt who was peering over the edge, "You wouldn't last one minute in Lima Heights"

She crumpled her cup and left, miming a punch at the guy as she left.

"What did you do," Mercedes asked, as Kurt stood up brushing off his clothes.

"Nothing." Kurt said as he fiddled with the express machine. "Just avoiding someone."

"If it's trouble, shouldn't you tell someone?" Sam asked.

"What did you do anyway?" Mercedes added.

"It's nothing," Kurt surveyed him over the cup, glancing at the nametag. "Sam. You should use lemon juice. It won't damage your hair as much."

Sam absently touched his head, "I don't dye my hair."

"Sure you do, I have an excellent nose for these things."

Sam eyes widened in alarm, "You can smell me?"

"Okay," Mercedes interrupted taking Kurt not so gently by the arm. "This is getting weird. Why don't you sit down, before Rachel comes back out."

"What about Karofsky he's probably waiting for me-"

"Don't worry it," Mercedes tapped the pentagram around her neck. "I'll make a circle of protection."

"That protects against vampires not idiots."

"Suit yourself, he'll probably get bored and leave soon." Seeing that Sam was looking at them intently, she let go of Kurt's arm.

"Sit down. Sam, get him an expresso."

Sam bumbled around in the back counter, and Mercedes flinched as she recognized the sound of cups breaking. But she ignored it going outside to where this Karofsky person was waiting.

Wrapping her fingers around the charm around her neck, she whispered a suggestion.

The burly man jerked up straight and turned direction disappearing down the street.

"Good riddance," Mercedes muttered, they had enough to deal with anyway without any extra drama.

Upon returning to her station Sam shoved his wallet into her face. "This is why." He said gruffly gesturing to the pictures of two blonde children. "My parents died last week. I have full custody of them now."

"I didn't know, I-"

"I wasn't close to them anymore," Sam said gruffily as he looked away. "I just wanted you to know."

Mercedes nodded as she stared at the pictures, only to see another one sticking out. Sam was grinning as he bent over to pose with –

"Artie." Mercedes whispered.

Sam's eyes darted to back to her. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, "Who's your friend? He looks familiar."


"You know you should stop making coffee that no one drinks." Tina held an empty cup in her hands.

"I need something to do, I'm bored."

"Can't you leave the house?" Tina lowered her sunglasses, "you didn't die here did you?"

Artie looked around, as if he was contemplating things. "Somewhere else, it just feels safe here."

Tina sat down on the broken couch. They had gotten a few things from Ikea but the room was far from what it use to be. "Even after Kurt changed in here? And can't not feel anything?"

"I have some feeling," Artie protested. "When I watch-"

Tina shook her head cutting him off, "I mean you can make coffee, and move things around but can you feel it?"

Crack.

Tina jumped a bit as he appeared next to the couch, deep in thought. "I never really thought about it. I was happy I could move things, but too feel-"

Her eyes slid to his wheelchair, and she wondered briefly why even in death he stayed in it. He was dead surely he could walk if he wanted to. But she was too afraid to ask.

She, Tina, the Asian Vampire that terrorized large parts of the San Francisco area for decades and fought off rivals to the bitter end, was too afraid to ask a simple question from her roommate.

Except Artie wasn't just a roommate, he was probably the closest friend she ever had, even if he was the most dismissive about her tentative going along with Mike's pursuit.

But today she was focused on helping, in whatever fashion she could think of.

"Think about it, you might not be able to eat, maybe you could feel the food, or get sensation of touching-"

He looked at her warningly. "As in?"

Tina stood up suddenly leaning on the armrest of the wheelchair and kissed him. The sensation that crossed her was cold and chilly, not unlike kissing someone that had come from outside.

"Did you feel anything?" she asked as she opened her eyes.

Crack.

Tina caught herself before she fell to the floor, but instead of her shin she felt the bruises on her ego. No one had ever disappeared on her before!

Hearing the sounds in the kitchen, she followed them to where Artie was pouring a cup of coffee.

"Well?" she said.

He didn't answer.

"I don't know how this works, how any of this works," he said abruptly. "they don't give you instructions on when you die. I woke up and here I was." He pushed away from the counter.

Thinking back to her frantic days after she was turned and the coven that was her family until a few wars between rivals groups resulted in her departure, she asked, "did anyone take you under their wing?"

"As a ghoul tour guide?" Artie, "not really though I did run into guy who died in the 80s, but he seemed lost as I was."

Crack.

Artie moved right next to her handing her the cup of coffee. "I always felt I was running out time when I was alive. I wanted to dance. I wanted to direct films. I wanted to open a guitar shop. And now since I'm dead I have time to do everything and nothing at all. And I wonder if I stay like this, here, not here, will I always be like this."

"You might just disappear." Tina whispered.

"Or not. I met someone else like me, he said something about making peace to move on. That there is Door we open when make peace with ourselves. But I already went about connecting with my family and -"

"Maybe you should haunt someone." Tina suggested.

He actually considered it for a few moments as his mouth twisted in thought. "That would be something to do. I don't know how to."

"Well there are those shows about haunted houses maybe you can pick up some tips. Or find other ghosts, surely there bounds to be loads all around."

His eyes lit up. "That's brilliant!"

Crack.

"Artie!" She yelled but he was gone this for real. She took a sip of the coffee and recoiled at the taste, and went to pour it out. "You're welcome!"


Kurt looked away from the appliance, cradling the empty mug in his hand. A witty remark on his tongue that was forgotten as he saw that Tina was reading the obituaries again, which remained him of something.

"Your stalker talked to me when I got off my shift," he said.

"I don't have a stalker."

"He followed me into the locker room asking me about you. Weren't you going to tell him you're not interested?"

Tina continued to read, "I haven't decided yet."

"About what? You go on about interacting with humans, but you refuse to do it yourself. What are you afraid of?"

She lowered the paper with a dark scowl. "I'm not afraid. It's just different for me. You can live a normal life except for one night a month. People notice when I don't age."

"Just because I can hide my condition doesn't mean I should," Kurt remarked.

"Stop calling it a condition. Just say it for once, you're a werewolf. You're always a werewolf. You transformed in this house nearly a month ago!"

Crack.

Artie popped into the room in that moment, and Kurt was never glad to see a fashion emergency in his entire life.

"Hey guys, I need a favor."

"What kind of favor?" Tina asked, even as Kurt dropped the coffee cup in the sink.

"Sure," Kurt said leaping over, pushing Artie out the room, "let's talk about it somewhere else-"

Kurt nearly tripped as Artie popped out of sight appearing at the breakfast table.

"I need your help," he said to Tina, "remember what I mentioned the other day?"

She fiddled with the edge of the newspaper, "by trying to help other ghosts cross over?"

"I think I found one. And I need your help," Artie glanced over Kurt who was trying to feign disinterest, "both of your help."

"You tricked me," Kurt muttered under his breath as he pushed the cart, as he glowered at Tina who was reading a grocery list. "You both tricked me. What happened to it being too bright out?"

Tina looked over her sunglasses, "It's not my fault you wanted to go ghost hunting."

"Like we can go ghost hunting here. The only people who died here are people who died getting turkeys hours before Thanksgiving. Did Mercedes put him up to this? Of course the guy who can't even touch the food is the one that forces us to go shopping!"

"He can, we tested it once. Well," Tina added hastily as Kurt stared at her, "oh look that thing we need, it's on sale! Why don't you get the meat!"

She shoved a list into his hands as she ran off.

"Way to reinforce stereotypes!" he called after her, attracting attention from the shoppers.

With both of them gone Kurt resigned himself to maneuvering the cart through the aisle as best as he could without touching the handle. He routinely picked up the items of Mercedes's list including a chicken.

As checked off a listen he heard a voice around the next aisle.

"I'm not saying I don't want to get married Carole, it just I don't want to do without my son."

His pen fell to the dirty linoleum floor as the air rushed out of his lungs.

"I understand. There years or ten, it still hurts. We can push it back…"

"No. It's not fair to you or Finn since he and his girlfriend has been planning this. We'll go through this. I just don't want to admit he might just be dead …"

As the voices grew near, Kurt ducked down an opposite aisle nearly knocking over a blonde examining cans of cat food.

What was his father doing in Lima? And what more what was he doing getting married?


"This wasn't what I had in mind when you said you wanted to ditch Kurt."

Artie looked over sheepishly at Tina as they entered the downtown theater that recently had been converted to host a traveling show.

Tina peered around the empty theater to the banner hanging above the small soundstage as she removed her sunglasses. 'William Schuster, Psychic Extraordinaire'. Humans will believe anything."

"Says the vampire."

"Says the ghost who wasting a vampire's time with a fake psychic," Tina climbed up the stairs glancing around the empty seats, "I thought you said we were going ghost hunting."

"This is a hangout for some of the ghosts in the area. It's a power source, it draws them like Stonehenge. "

"I think they're just here for the show. I can only just imagine the antics."

Tina sat down in a chair, propping her foot on the chair in front of her as she placed her hands behinds her head.

"You aren't leaving?"

"I'm here I might as well watch."

Crack.

Artie popped into the chair next to her, miming her body language. "The show doesn't start for a while."

"They why come here early?"

Artie paused before he said. "I heard you have stalker at work."

Tina groaned sinking into her seat. "Not you too. Kurt put you up to this didn't he?"

"So you do have stalker."

I don't have a stalker," Tina muttered tugging at fishnet arm warmers, " It's just someone who wants to go out for drinks."

Artie didn't blink. "If it's just drinks why don't you say yes?"

"Because it's not just drinks. Besides it wouldn't work. We're playing entirely different league."

"Human-vampire incompatibility, is that your excuse?"

Tina made a face, gently punching him in the arm.

"Pardon me for not wanting to jump into things."

"Isn't that what being human is," Artie said suddenly, "taking chances?"

"You can't take a chance like this," Tina muttered, "someone once told me if you want to take big risks you have surround with people who'll catch you when you fall."

"And you don't trust any of us?"

Tina looked askance at him before she turned away from him crossing her arms over her chest, "Eventually Kurt and Mercedes will grow old, and you'll just fade away."

"Fade away?"

"You have to pass over eventually, and then poof." She gestured widely as she pulled her sunglasses back on, "and it'll be the same story again. And it'll just be me."

Artie tapped the armrests of his chair, not wanting to say what was on the tip of his tongue. In the months that he resided in the house, Mercedes had been beating over his head about his lack of tact claiming being dead didn't save even him from his offenses. While it amused him to ruffle Kurt's feathers, he took a pause when it came to Tina these days especially since one little remark got him the silent treatment for a week.

And was Tina different. Though he barely felt it, he thought about the impromptu kiss more often than he was willingly to admit. But since she said nothing, even acted like it didn't happened at all, Artie let the matter pass. Besides there was no way she even thought of him like that when she had her human stalker...

"You two," an usher said, "you're in the wrong seats."

"No one here," Tina retorted only to hiss as the flashlight was shone directly into her eyes.

"You're making too much noise, don't make me work harder than I have too. Come with me, both of you."

"Wait," Artie asked exchanging a look with Tina, "you can see me?"

The usher turned, scowling as she sighed, "of course I can. But we need to get your little vampire friend somewhere else before the living gets here."

The usher left, walking straight through seats to get to the hallway.

"I haven't seen you around," the usher asked, "when did you died?"

Artie opened his mouth to reply as she responded, "I died in all places a Sheets & Things. Death by mattresses suffocation! And I though having my body found Howard Bamboo was bad enough…. Here we are. Best seats in the house."

Here was a tiny room where ghosts were huddled around a television making idle conversation. Quite a few looked a bit worse for the war with tire marks and things sticking out of them. But it was quiet ordinary including the old lady in the corner with knitting needles.

"We stay back here," the usher said "to keep them from bothering humans. Ever since Will stopped listening to us it's been chaotic."

"He's a real psychic?" Tina asked befuddled.

"He's human, and he can actually hear us?" Artie asked.

"He always ignored me though," the usher said, "something about us getting divorced being a problem, but the others he always talked to."

Tina looked at the TV screen where the psychic was doing sound checks.

"He would help them send messages over to humans that were left behind. Sometimes it made it worse, but it was nice." She added softly, "very nice."

Artie asked a few more questions about the psychic and, Tina supposed, more details about the grumpy usher. However Tina was distracted by the crowd of ghosts around the television. While the others had move in closers, a few had hung back, one, Tina recognized with flash of fright.

She ran out the room, and from backstage before Artie could stop her, not stopping until she got outside and her blind panic faded a bit.

Crack.

"You look like you seen a ghost."

Tina glared at Artie, but given how he didn't react it must have been less than effective.

"Someone you recognized?"

"You wouldn't understand," Tina muttered. "I may come across as a very effervescent person, but if you knew my past you wouldn't think so."

"Try me," Artie plucked the collar of his shirt, "I'm dead, surprises won't kill me."

"This isn't a joke," Tina muttered fiddling with the sunglasses about to put them on, when she stopped realizing people were staring at her.

She quickly began to walk down the street pulling out a phone holding it to her ear, "just forget about it."

He rolled up next to her.

"You panicked for a reason."

"We all have secrets it's one of the rules of renting the house together. We don't ask, we don't tell."

"I died last year in a freak accident. And if I want to I could get up and walk but that means I have to stop being in denial of my condition."

Tina stopped where she was in the sidewalk, turning to look at Artie who wasn't that far behind her.

It was the first time any of her roommates had pushed in this way. She knew what Mercedes had an aversion to citrus scents that went from food to cleaners. She knew that Kurt ironed everything he owned including his underwear. But this was first time one of them have reveal something so personal. Tina had spent so much time pushing people away, she was almost startled at how he reached out to her, in way she couldn't just brushed aside.

Almost though.

"We have to find Kurt," Tina said pulling on her shades, "hopefully he actually did the shopping."

She turned away pretending not to see his crestfallen expression.


"I hate you both," was Kurt's first words to Artie and Tina when the three of them met at the back door.

He carried a bunch of groceries and apparently a chip on shoulder, which for a brief moment made Artie feel a guilty a bit before Kurt said, "enjoy your date?"

"It wasn't a date," Tina breezed as she grabbed a bag from him putting it on the table, "did you get the milk? What's with the chicken?"

"It's for later," Kurt said shiftily, "why did you abandoned me in the store!"

"Remember how you were upset the annual "Sound of music" showing was pushed back?" Tina said, "There's a psychic in town for the week. A real psychic that apparently can talk to ghosts."

"Not anymore." Artie amended, "I talked to Terri, the usher," he added, "and she said he might have some blockage." He paused before he said, "I think I'm going to try to help him."

"Okay." Kurt said with a nod.

"Okay?" Tina asked surprised, "you don't have anything to say about it? You usually do."

"I don't think he's a real psychic," Kurt said, "and if anything probably just very lucky."

"I don't-" Artie began.

"Don't bother," Tina interrupted with a scowl as she stormed out the room, "Kurt doesn't even believe in anything."

Artie frowned hearing not just their words but the implication of something else, of a conversation had before.

"Should-"

"She's right," Kurt replied calmly, " I don't believe in anything. It's hard to believe in a higher power when people hate you for something out of your control."

Artie shifted uncomfortably, the bit of worry in the back in mind coming to front. But Kurt didn't seem to notice, so Artie shook himself out of the move, wheeling up to him. "I need someone to come with me, to help get through to him. I can talk to ghosts, and they said the psychic helps both the living and the dead get their messages across. People are probably going to come as long as he's in town to the show-"

The box in Kurt's hands fell to the floor, and it crushed on side. But Kurt didn't make a move to get it as he suddenly grown pale. "People come to the show?"

"That's the idea." Artie remarked.

"I'll help you," Kurt said quickly, picking up the box, "you just got help me with something."

"That requires telling a secret, and full disclosures to spill said secret."

Kurt cut his eyes at him, but didn't answer as he grabbed the chicken to stick in the freezer.

"When the time's right."


Step one, Kurt thought to himself as he sat at the Lima Bean straining to listen in to the conversation by the expresso machines. Find out more about the wedding.

He heard the name Finn, but he wanted to confirm it really was the bumbling giant from shop.

Kurt's first instinct was to lie low and forget about the whole thing. It had been a long time since he heard anything about his father and didn't want to open up old wounds. But the news that a psychic was in town, and that his father thought he was dead might work to his advantage. He wondered if there way he could use the psychic to pass on message to his father. But first he had to get some kind of rapport with Finn to do all this maneuvering.

"You need a refill?"

Kurt looked up as Sam appeared in front of him.

"No, I'm good."

"Okay," he shrugged, "You're a friend of Mercedes right?"

Kurt nodded impatiently as he picked up his phone pretending to scroll through contacts,

"Do you happen to know someone named Artie Abrams?"

Phone lowered his phone, he recognized the first name, as well as the sixth sense that told him that wasn't going to like what he had to say.

"Perhaps?"

"He's dead." Sam said bluntly as he rubbed his shoulder, "he died last year in an accident."

"Ah-"

"I didn't want to tell her," Sam said in rush, "it be too weird if I told her."

"But you're telling me," Kurt pointed out.

Sam gulped, his eyes darting about.

A childish yell from across the room saved him as a pair of little kids ran up to him, backpacks dragging behind him.

"Look Sammy," the little girl cried jumping up and down, "I got B on my spelling test!"

"I can't believe he brought them back." Rachel appeared, with a slightly disproving frown. "they're so disruptive."

"Why are they here, if you don't like them," Kurt replied.

He was surprised when Rachel replied, "because it be rude to shoo them. His parents died in a freak accident a few weeks ago, and he came back to work like nothing happened. I mean he was upset, he just didn't let him stop him. Didn't think he had that much drive."

"Maybe he's aspiring for a manager position," Kurt joked.

Rachel gave him a frightening look.

"He better not be," she said before she caught sight of Finn at the counter.

"Finn, found the perfect dress for the wedding! Do you think it be too much if I could sing at the wedding reception. I have several appropriate musical selections that show off the range of my voice."

Finn blinked hard as Rachel swooped upon him, "I think they already hired someone-"

"They don't have anything plan, they keep dragging their heels. Aren't you like the best man or something-"

Rachel chattered on overpowering Finn as she darted around him waving her hands frantically in thought. All while talk circling Finn who was holding the red dress. "I think they just want us to attend, doing all this might be a much-"

Kurt ignored her, his eyes darting back to Sam and his siblings. He wondered even more about his parents' death about his connection with Artie, and even more Mercedes sudden interest in finding out. As he watched Sam to go back to the counter, Kurt's eyes fell on a figure in the window with wonderfully coiffed hair and a scarf on despite the warmness of the day.

The man stared at not Kurt, but at Rachel hungrily, in way that put Kurt on alert for it was both broody and hungry.

"There's a wedding," Kurt asked, throwing himself into their conversation, "I have some expertise in weddings, I used to make all my power rangers get together, it was like Fleetwood Mac."

Finn's face had fallen in confusion while Rachel clapped her hands together, "you're a wedding planner!

"Oh no," Kurt laughed nervously, "I just love weddings, people are generally happy in them."

"They aren't really happy right now," Finn muttered and flinched as Rachel jabbed her elbow into ribs.

"I keep telling you being negative effects everything."

"If," Kurt said keeping an eyes for the man in window who seemed to have disappeared, "I could obtrusive, but why would be that be?"

Finn hesitated.

"Tell him," Rachel said gentler than before. "It could help."

"My mom's fiancée, well he's like a widow, -"

"Widower," Rachel corrected, "that what's it called for men."

"and it's been a long time since then his wife died."

"Twelve years." Kurt said, causing them to look at him, "or something like that imagine, if he's waiting that long to get married to your mother. He must have mourned for sometimes never even gotten over it."

"Well it's not exactly that. He had a son that like disappeared and-"

"We're all pretty sure he's dead," Rachel interjected, "but Mr. Hummel wants to delay the wedding, but putting it off is not good since it's been years already. I think he needs to make peace."

"I didn't want to rush anything," Finn muttered.

Rachel ignored him, showing they apparently had this conversation before as she turned to Kurt, "I offered to take them to a séance, but they refused. Saying it was too woolly for him and probably a scam."

"You did try to get us to see Cats on Broadway even though it's-"

"There's a psychic in town," Kurt remarked, "rumored to be rather good at communicating with ghosts."

"Really."

"I have it on good word. "

They didn't say anything, but that in Kurt's opinion was just a small victory.

Step one down, and as for step two…


"This is dumb." Artie said suddenly he stared at the door, "maybe I'm just getting mixed up with things I shouldn't."

"Isn't it a bit too late for that?" Mercedes gestured to the group of ghosts standing behind them in weight in the crowded hallway at the theater.

"You said you tried," Tina pointed out, "and if you couldn't get through to the psychic we'll do the translation."

"Still won't help with a show," said a man with bungee cords hanging around his neck.

"But it's a start." Tina added.

With that encouragement, Artie wheeled through the door into the messy dressing room. On the wall was a peeling movie poster and there were faded stains on the wall that look at some points alcohol and other bodily fluids. Will Schuester sat in a chair reading the day's newspaper, idly sipping from a cloudy glass.

From talking with Terri, Artie had learned a few things about the psychic, some which he didn't really need to know, but the gist of things was that quite suddenly a few months ago Schue stopped acknowledging the ghosts he once listened too.

Artie wasn't sure why he thought it would be different with him, but he just had this feeling, feeling similar to what lead him to ending the house with his friends.

He was there long before Schue looked up, "Emma I told you I don't want to be disturbed-"

Schue stared in Artie's direction, seeing through him.

Dropping the newspaper on the broken down couch he looked around, terrified and wary.

"Someone's there isn't there?" He said projecting his words around the room. "Or not." He reached over to grab his drink clenching it tighter than before, "why I am still doing this?"

"Because you care."

Schue dropped the glass.

It shattered across the room, as he looked up shocked. "I heard you. Someone really is here."

There was knock was a tentative knock on the door, "Will," a woman's voices said through the door, "is something wrong? You aren't drinking again are you?"

"No not at all," Schue jumped up shoving the half empty bottle and glass into the dresser drawer. The drawer front fell off to the floor in a thud. "It'll be out in a fifteen, Emma."

"Make that ten, the show's about to show, I can't keep delaying them people won't show. And-"

"I understand, Emma." Schue said as he looked directly Artie, "I'll be there soon."

"Okay." There was soft click of heels and moved away.

Schue moved closer to Artie, "Who are, and why can I suddenly hear you when I can't with the others?"


"Do you think we should check on him?" Tina asked.

They were sitting in the back of the theater, an allowance Terri let pass since she and the other ghosts were listening into the conversation in the dressing room.

Emma, the perky ginger manager, was whisking around nervously getting the show set up to bother them.

"Wheels will be fine," Mercedes said with a shrug. "He's a bit of fool for doing this, but it'll be fine."

Tina pulled off her sunglasses, "you don't seem surprised that the psychic could hear him."

"I'm not," Mercedes said frankly. "I haven't mentioned it to you guys, but I can't really see Artie like you two do. I mean I see him, but he was transparent."

"Was transparent?" Tina asked, "Like you can see through him?"

"Yeah, transparent, but suddenly he's more solid, much more solid than the other ghosts."

"I think it might just be you," Tina flicked a hand and the pentagram around Mercedes's neck. "I can touch that even though it wards other vampires away, because we have a bond. Could this be same thing?"

"I don't think so, though it is a possibility…."

The lights flickered on the theater as people began to look for their seats.

"Why are we bothering with a psychic anyway?" Mercedes asked suddenly. "Sure the guy helped ghosts, but we don't need to help him."

"I think it's part of a bigger plan," Tina replied, "When Artie mentioned this to Kurt, he had that look in his eye. You know the one that got dressing up as food to make rent. But it can't be that crazy if Artie agrees to it."

"You're kidding right?" Mercedes retorted causing Tina to snort, "I'm actually afraid to ask what it is all about. He's dead can you just imagine what he doesn't think is crazy anymore?"

"Well-"

"Also we don't need thing about him or why he's hanging around."

"Do we even have to know-"

"It's just that I met someone who knew him. Back when he's alive. Said he died in an accident, whatever that means."

"Well don't ask him. Death's a rather personal thing."

"You just don't want to know if one of your-"

The house lights went out and a voice boomed over the loudspeaker:

"My name is Will Schuester and this is my psychic experience."

Tina pulled the sunglasses back on the strobe lights came on, and Mercedes flinched as the cheesy 80s music.

"We seriously aren't staying for this show are we?" She asked, but then didn't get answer as Artie appeared on the stage next to the psychic.

Clearly no one noticed him, but as Tina looked around she spotted a group of ghosts lurking around in the fringes of the theater they seemed to be paying rapt attention to the stage, their whispers and chatter subdued for once.

"I have a feeling," Tina remarked as Artie gestured for a ghost to step forward, "We don't want to miss this."

"I sense a presence among us, our first otherworldly visitor," Schue said placing a hand to his head, "who name is, who name is…."

"Ken." Artie supplied.

"Ken?" Schue voice jumped up a bit, and from backstage, the ginger manager pokes her head out pulling off the headset. "Ken is comes kindly with a message."

From the crowd off ghost, a squat greasy man stepped forward, "I just wanted to tell you M&M that…"

"Good grief," Mercedes muttered, "not this nonsense."

Tina shushed her, but Mercedes merely instead got out of their seats going into the hallway.

Tina glanced back at the stage where Artie was repeating back the lines for Schue, who promptly relayed them to the audience, before she went to follow Mercedes.

"What utter and complete crap," Mercedes repeated forcibly as she stood in the hall, "it's so ridiculous."

She had turned away, and she had fumbled with her purse.

"You lost someone didn't you," Tina asked, "That's what drove you into this?"

"Matt was a childhood friend of mine. We weren't that close, especially after middle school. He disappeared one day, and later that week they found him drained. You know I didn't want to believe, but I started seeing things, and suddenly I couldn't stay away. Now I'm sharing a house with a ghost, vampire, and a werewolf, and we're at place where a psychic is actually communicating with people, and who knows what else is out there? Zombies?"

"You still human," Tina said, "you can leave, we're not forcing you, it might," she added thinking of her run in with Jesse at the hospital, "it might even be safer if you did."

Mercedes snorted, "Like I leave you guys, you can't even keep milk in the fridge without me."

There were words on her tongue to say something comforting but in truth she couldn't breathe a word. If she said anything it would be lie, they all were all going to leave her one day.

"I'll have to cut out," Mercedes said as she looked up from her phone. "tell me how everything goes."

Tina went back into the theater but didn't take a seat, standing in front of the closed door.

"….and because he loves you, Ken wants you to know Emma," Schue said paused as he glanced at Artie who nodded, "that Carl's cheating on you with a substitute teacher."

There was gasp in the crowd, none as loud as the stage manager who finally came out on stage. Her eyes wide and faced flushed the swung her hand back and slapped him soundly before running off the stage in tears.

As Schue broke character calling after her, Tina was distracted from something else going on. A bright light had filled the theater, a light that the audience seemed to ignored, but a light that Ken seemed to stare at with great intensity. Slowly but surely he walked up the aisle to the open door.

He paused at the door seeing that Tina could see him. There was fear in his eyes, fear as well as relief and as if finally making his peace.

"Good luck," she whispered and he nodded, before stepping into doorway and shutting the door behind him.

As the theater fell back into darkness, Tina was brought back as Schue tried to end his show on a solid note, even as the waiting ghosts began to make outcry wanting their turns.

"They should wait in the backroom," a voice said next to her, "wait their turn. 'All the world's a stage' after all."

"But we aren't just mere players." Tina remarked as she turned to Jesse. "Are you following me around? This isn't an all you can eat restaurant."

He ignored her, "I don't get why you associated with inferior creatures. First humans, than werewolves, and now ghosts."

"Don't make me cause a scene,' Tina said sweetly.

"You won't because you're trying to blend in, but you'll never blend in when your past is already there to haunt you."

Tina froze.

"Shelby," Jesse sung the name tauntingly, "looks the same as she did all those years ago, and her daughter is a splittingly image-"

"Don't you-"

"I'm not afraid of you," Jesse said as he moved away placing a hand on the auditorium door as he made to leave, "just don't get attached to your little pets. They all go away one day. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

Crack.

"How bad was that?" Artie asked.

"Horrible," Tina replied at once pulling a mask over her features as she turned to face, "the show may end early."

He put his head in hands, "I was just trying to help. Why does everything turn out wrong?"

"You got a ghost through a door." Tina pointed out.

"I nearly brought the house down."

"You're not really much phantom of the opera type."

He looked up, perplexed.

"I have to fix this," he muttered, "I knew I should have started with someone else."

Crack.

"What a surprise to see you here!"

Tina nearly jumped out her skin, as she caught sight of Rachel dragging along Finn by the arm.

"You're Mercedes's roommate aren't you?" Rachel said brightly, "we ran into her on the way out, she said you could fill us in on the details."

Forcing a smile, Tina silently cursed her friend, "Details about what?"

"The psychic of course," Rachel shook Finn's arm lightly. He looked about comfortable about this as Tina felt.

"I think the show's over though," Tina glanced back at the stage. "for now at least."

"Good we can go-" Finn tried to leave, but with a smile plastered on her face she jerked his arm back keeping him locked in place.

"When's the show's going to start again? We wanted to bring someone with us tomorrow."

Crack.

"Try the end of the week." Artie said. "After the full moon so Kurt can be here."

"I heard Saturday would be the better," Tina said quickly, "you won't want to miss it."

She glanced back at Artie was making gestures to wrap this up.

"The most unusual things happen."


Kurt had picked Artie and Tina from the theater, eager to find out what had happened with the psychic and if Rachel and Finn had actually end up going.

Eagerly Artie talked how he managed to make contacts with the psychic and confidante to get the man to let him translate the ghosts requests for him why they discover the source of his problem. They only managed to talk with one ghosts given some upset, but-

"It's was fine. A Door appeared," Artie finished in a rush.

"A door?" Kurt asked, looking away from the road, he glanced away from the rearview mirror over to the passenger seat where Tina sat staring at her nails. "What are you talking about?"

"He managed to cross over."

Kurt had a feeling he was missing something, and given the composed expression on their faces he had a funny feeling about it. "When you say you're helping people, you're helping them how?"

"It's not ordinary door," Artie said quietly, "on the other side is Death."

"But you're already dead," Kurt protested his voice rising in pitch, "what else is there?"

Tina looked away, shoving the sunglasses on her face, while Artie looked at him gravely.

"I can't answer that question for you," Artie said, "And I don't think you want the answer I could give you."

He was right, but Kurt wasn't willingly to admit it and because the questioned remained hanging in the air.

"It's your father you're trying to get to see the psychic aren't you?"

Kurt jerked out of his thoughts at the sound of Tina's voice.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kurt replied.

Tina snorted as she turned on the radio, "He confessed you put him up to this, and I don't think either myself or Mercedes are going to this wedding unless you fess up to-"

The volume rose sharply emitting sounds that wasn't more of shrieking voices than music, as the lights flashed in the car. Kurt clutched his hands over his ears, forgetting for a moment about the care in motion. A horn blared at them, and Kurt yanked the wheel pulling them into a ditch as he cut the car's ignition.

"What the hell," Kurt muttered staring at the dashboard, "was that?"

"That wouldn't be the best choice of words," Artie muttered.

"I think it's a surge of paranormal activity, "Tina added, her voicing darkening, "Do you even know what you're doing with the ghosts?"

"They don't exactly give you a rule book for such things." Artie replied his attempt at humor falling flat.

"Let's just get back," Kurt said as he squirmed in the seat unwillingly to take on the implication of driving a possessed car.

They nodded in agreed and Kurt switched the car back on and they continued on in radio silence.


The next morning Kurt woke up to find the coffee pot missing. Completely missing, as it left a round circle of pale countertop where the appliance once was.

He held a hand over it hoping in vain, Mercedes might have accidently casted a concealing charm again to reserve some of the coffee grounds, but alas it was gone.

Kurt turned away from the counter as Tina entered the kitchen.

"Oh no," she said removing her sunglasses, "that's gone too."

"What else is gone?"

"Of importance? The TV but lots of smaller electronics are gone."

Kurt forgotten about the coffee pot, "were we robbed or something?"

"I don't know," Tina murmured as the entered the living where the gaping hole where the Tv once was stood.

"But they didn't take anything of value."

"What do you two have of value?" Kurt murmured.

Before Tina could replied there as yell from the kitchen, "where's the coffee pot!" Mercedes stormed into the room.

"We may have thief, and as much as I hate involving the police-" he went to closet to pull out his coat, only to stop when he realized what was in the closet wasn't just coats.

Kurt barely dumped way to avoid getting hit by a clock, he cries of distress attracting the girls' attention.

Together all three of them stared at all their electronics stuffed in a closet along with a note written in Artie's neat handwriting hanging on the light bulb to not plug anything in.

"I'm going to kill him," Mercedes muttered.

"You can't kill him," Tina said amusedly, "he's already dead."

"That's won't be a problem," Mercedes slammed the door shut before Kurt could grab the coffee pot.

Her diatribe was cut short as the sound of wheels hit the hardwood floor.

Artie came to a halt in the hallway, looking a bit sheepish as they started at him with the unhooked toaster in his lap.

"Oops," he muttered and before Mercedes could lunge at him, he popped out of sight, wheelchair and all, the toaster hitting the floor with a clatter.

"You're not going to run from me Wheels!" Mercedes yelled to the ceiling. A bump from above proved he was up there, and she ran up the stairs after him.

Artie popped back into the living room, placed the toaster on the coffee table, and disappeared once again as Mercedes ran back into the room.

She stumbled and jabbed a finger at Tina, who was convulsing in giggles on the couch.

"Go find him," Mercedes stammered, "he'll listen to you!"

"About what? Plugging appliances in?"

"You know that's not what this is about."

Tina put her shades back on, "I'm not having that conversation with him, he haven't he told us what killed him in the first place."

"You haven't either," Kurt pointed out.

Tina grinned her fangs glistening as a slight challenge, "do you want to me to tell you?"

"Forget about it," Kurt reached into the closet pulling out a his coat, he knocked out a alarm clock to ht floor. "I'm going to get some coffee. Until Caspar changes his mind."

"Don't call him that!"

Kurt waved a hand as he left picking up his bag as he went into the kitchen, noticing chicken was defrosting in the sink, he picked it up and put it in the freezer.

"Speaking of minds, Rachel and Finn are going to bring your father to the psychic on Saturday."

"Father?" Mercedes asked, "what's gong on?"

"Kurt's father getting married. He apparently ran out on him years ago and wants to use a psychic to pass on a message from beyond instead of being up to him like a normal person."

He slammed the door, "I'm not a normal person, I have this curse on me," Kurt waved the frozen chicken around, "I'm something society will never accept."

"You don't even accept yourself," Tina retorted turning away, "how do you expect society too?"

"You're one to talk, since that's your excuse for not even go out on drinks with a human!"

"So what if I do!

Tina stormed out leaving Mercedes looking on hesitantly.

"I've been meaning to ask, what are you going to do with the chicken? I was going to make dinner with that."