DISCLAIMER: Once again, I do not own the mediator series, or the characters, or what they say. I'm just writing what I believe Jesse is thinking and feeling in these scenes :)
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I kept out of Susannah's way for a few days, listening but staying hidden and unseen. I learned bits of information about the new ghost, Heather, and how Susannah had saved Bryce Martinson's life from her as she fit in more at school. Though, as time wore on, I got a strange feeling about Heather that wouldn't go away; She was very dangerous. And, as Susannah was 'The Mediator', I was a little worried she would do something drastic. I knew all about the priest, Father Dominick, but, as little as I knew about Susannah, I doubted he would be enough to stop her.

I kept listening, even when I knew it was wrong and I kept watching out for danger. Just as a precaution, I told myself repeatedly. For Susannah.

Well, not just for Susannah, I argued with myself. This voice in my head, though probably meaning I'm crazy, had been speaking up a lot whenever I listened or watched out. It was getting defensive. There are other lives at stake here, too, I reminded myself.

Everything came to a screeching halt, however, when I heard of Susannah's plan to go down to the Mission and talk to Heather. So, I decided it was time to intercede.

I materialized in Susannah's room, leaning against the post of her bed as she made sure she had everything she needed. I waited patiently until she noticed me.

"Jeez," She said when she finally caught sight of me standing there, in the mirror reflection. "Why are you still hanging around? I thought I told you to get lost."

I ignored her statements and said, "It's a little late to be going out, isn't it, Susannah?" She pulled down the hood of her sweatshirt.

"Uh," She muttered, as her hair shook out around her. "Look, no offense, Jesse, but this is my room. How about you try getting out of it? And my business, too, please?"

"Your mother won't like your going out so late at night," I said, choosing to ignore her comments again.

"My mother. What would you know about my mother?" Susannah glared up at me defiantly.

"I like your mother very much. She is a good woman. You are very lucky to have a mother who loves you so very much." I thought of my own mother...and my father...and my little sisters. But I didn't let my missing my family distract me. "It would upset her, I think, to see you putting yourself in the path of danger."

Susannah looked skeptical at my last words. "Yeah, well, newsflash, Jesse. I've been sneaking out at night for a long time, and my mom's never said boo about it before. She knows I can take care of myself."

I raised an eyebrow, thinking how strange it was that I started to get the impression Susannah believed she didn't need anyone. Everyone needed someone. Susannah couldn't possibly think she could make it by herself in everything she did. This being one of those times.

"Can you?" I said to her. "I don't think so, querida. Not in this case." I had called her querida, meaning dear one or beloved in Spanish. I'd heard my own father call my mother that while I was alive.

"Okay. Number one, don't call me stuff in Spanish," Susannah immediately objected to the name, holding both of her hands up, palms forward. I didn't think she knew what it meant. "Number two, you don't even know where I'm going, so I suggest you just get off my back."

"But I do know where you are going, Susannah. You are going to the school, to talk the girl who is trying to kill that boy, that boy you seem...fond of." I thought of Bryce Martinson, Heather's former signficant other, and how he had asked Susannah out on a date. I didn't like it, and I wondered how Heather would react to that. "But I'm telling you, querida, she is too much for you to handle alone. If you must go, you ought to have the priest with you"

Susannah's eyes had widened enormously as I was speaking. I realized, too late, that I probably shouldn't have let on about how much I knew.

"What?" She gasped. "How could you know all that? Are you...are you stalking me?"

Stalking? "I don't know what that word means, stalking. All I know is that you are walking into harms way."

"You've been following me," Susannah accused me. "Haven't you? God, Jesse, I already have an older brother, thank you very much. I dont need you going around spying - "

I hadn't been following her, just keeping an eye...and ear out. Not that she would listen to me. "Oh, yes," I said, trying my hand at sarcasm, and thinking of the brother she called Sleepy. Well, Susannah need someone to look out for her. Her new stepbrother wasn't exactly doing the finest job. "This brother cares for you very much. Almost as much as he cares about his sleep."

"Hey!" Susannah said indignantly. I could tell she didn't like having to defend her stepbrother. "He works nights, okay? He's saving up for a Camaro!"

I did not know what a Camaro was, but I just waved my hand at her and said, "You aren't going anywhere."

"Oh, yeah?" She challenged. "Try and stop me, cadaver breath."

As she stomped toward the door, I focused my entire mind and concentrated on moving the old, handle-less deadbolt into place. It clicked just as Susannah reached the door. She tugged on the knob for a minute until I heard her stop and take a breath. Good. Maybe she was coming to her senses. But...no.

"Okay," She said, turning to face me. "Jesse. This is way uncool."

I looked around the room awkwardly, frowning slightly. I didn't want her to get upset with me, but I couldnt let her get herself injured. Or killed.

"I can't." I looked at her. "Susannah. Don't go. This woman - this girl, Heather. She isn't like the other spirits you might have known in the past. She's filled with hate. She'll kill you if she can."

She smiled at me, trying to reassure me. But I wasn't fooled. "Then its up to me to get rid of her, right? Come on. Unlock the door, now."

I was uncomfortable doing this but it was for a good reason. It's not as if I had callous intentions. I didn't want to do this...but what if I let her go and something happened? It would be all my fault. So I looked into her big, emerald eyes again, determined this time.

"Suit yourself." Susannah walked across the room to the window and opened it with ease. She had put half her body through the window frame when I crossed the room to her and slid my hand around her wrist.

"Susannah," I said softly. But there wasn't anything else I could say. I couldn't think of anything else to say. She looked down at my hand, silent for once.

Suddenly, realizing what I was doing, I dropped her wrist. Susannah finished climbing out the window and was gone.

As soon as she left, I started fretting. I imagined all the ways her meeting with Heather could go wrong. Heather was an angry spirit - angry at the world, angry at Bryce but most of all, angry at herself - she would love to take it out on Susannah.

So, after a few minutes of carefully considered options, I decided to go down to the Mission.

'Cadaver breath', I thought, as I materialized into the hallway. Of course Susannah would choose to be insensitive to my death condition. But I quickly forgot about that - for the moment - as soon as I reached the end of the hall. I could hear tiny explosions and a deep voice - Heather - that was gone beyond reason. I sprinted, almost flew, to where I heard the noises and saw Susannah lying flat on her back.

"Get up!" I called, reaching her as the statue head of Junipero Serra landed beside her face. I pulled her to her feet and ran with her under the breezeway, through the hall and into a classroom with the door ajar, where I assumed she had entered from.

"Jesucrìsto," I panted after we slammed the door against the statue head that was chasing us. "'I can take care of myself' you said.'I'll just have to get rid of her first' you told me. Right!"

"Shut up," Susannah said breathlessly. The statue head was ramming violently against the closed door.

"Cadaver breath." I looked over at Susannah. Her face was white and her eyes were wide. "Do you realize that's what you called me? That hurt, querida. That really hurt." I wasn't genuinely angry with her, but she could at least apologize.

"I told you," She said, still managing to sound grumpy. "Not to call me that."

"Well, I would appreciate it if you didnt' make disparaging remarks about my - "

"Look," Susannah interrupted. "This door isn't going to hold up forever."

"No," I said as the statue head smashed itself halfway through the door. "May I make a suggestion?"

She looked horrified by the statue head, just staring at it, dumbstruck. "Sure," She said shakily.

"Run."

She threw herself away from the door and scrambled up onto the windowsill. There was broken glass everywhere, but Susannah hoisted herself through the window.

"Uh, hurry, please?" I told her, holding the door until she was safely away. As soon as she was out, I shimmered out of the classroom and into the parking lot. As soon as I reappeared, I glanced around for Susannah. I found her peering through the broken window, calling my name.

"I thought I told you to run," I said, coming up behind her. I'd surprised her and she whirled around quickly.

"Oh my God." She just stood there, looking shaken. Suddenly, she reached out and grabbed the front of my shirt, sounding slightly delirious. "Oh my God. Jesse, are you all right?"

Me? Why was she asking about me? I'm dead, or did she forget? "Of course I'm all right," I responded. "Are you all right?"

"Me?" She sounded surprised. "I'm fine." Taking a deep breath, she started again. "Do you think she's...done?"

"For now." I told her seriously. Heather was still new, after all. She could get angry, like she displayed tonight, but she didnt know how much damage she could actually do. I wondered if Susannah knew this. Apparently she didn't because her next words were,

"How do you know?" She was trembling and looking wildly about. I was surprised to see her this way. I knew Susannah was still only human, after all...but she always acted so confident. I was taken aback that she would allow me, of all people, to see her this way. "How do you know she won't come bursting through that wall there and start uprooting all these trees and hurling them at us?"

I smiled at her, shaking my head. "She won't," I promised her.

"How do you know?" She persisted.

"Because she won't," I said. "She doesn't know she can. She's too new at all this, Susannah. She doesn't know yet all that she can do."

I meant the words to be reassuring, but she looked even more afraid than before. I suppose the fact that an angry ghost could throw immensly heavy objects at you with her mind would frighten most people, so I completely understood her terror. I kind of wanted to say 'I told you so' but considering her state, I decided against it. There was no need to make her feel worse.

Susannah started pacing frantically, gesturing with her hands as she talked at an abnormally fast speed. "We've got to do something. We've got to warn Father Dominick - and Bryce. My God, we've got to warn Bryce not to come to school tomorrow. She'll kill him the minute he sets foot on campus - "

"Susannah." I tried to interrupt her babble, but she just plowed on.

"I guess we could call him. It's one in the morning, but we could call him and tell him - I dont know what we could tell him. We could tell him there's been a death threat or something. That might work. Or - we could leave a death threat. Yeah, thats what we could do! We could call his house and I could disguise my voice and I could be like 'Don't come to school tomorrow or you'll die.' Maybe he'd listen. Maybe he'd - "

"Susannah." I tried again.

"Or we could have Father Dom do it!" She continued. "We could have Father Dom call Bryce and tell him not to come to school, that there's been some kind of accident or something - "

"Susannah." I stepped in front of her to ward off the pacing, and her face collided into my chest as she turned. She wobbled a bit so I grabbed the top of her arms to make sure she wouldn't fall over. She looked up at me, not embarrassed in the least for acting like a crazy person. "Susannah," I started again. "It's all right. It's not your fault. There was nothing you could do."

She looked at me incredulously. "Nothing I could do? Are you kidding me? I should have kicked that girl back into her grave!"

"No," I said to her while shaking my head. "She'd have killed you."

"Bull!" She argued with me. "I totally could have taken her. If she hadn't done that thing with that guy's head - "

"Susannah." I said, resignedly.

"I mean it, Jesse," She claimed. "I could totally have handled her if she hadn't gotten so mad. I bet if I just wait a little while until she's calmed down and go back in there, I can talk her into - "

"No," I said hurriedly. I was afraid she'd go back in there anyway and truly get herself killed this time. I released her arms, but wrapped my armaround her shoulders so that I could turn her away from the school and we could start heading home. It felt safer like this. "Come on. Let's go home."

"But what about - " Susannah griped.

"No," I said, tightening my hold on her shoulders.

"Jesse, you don't understand. This is my job. I have to - "

She constantly thought she had to do everything. She was just one girl, no one expected her to handle every job thrown at her, every ghost to be defeated without any assistance. Especially this one, the evil fiend. "It's Father Dominick's job, too, no? Let him take it from here. There's no reason why you have to be burdened with all the responsibility yourself."

"Well, yes, there is." Susannah looked down, so I couldnt read her expression. "I'm the one who screwed up."

"You put the gun to her head and pulled the trigger?" I asked simply.

"Of course not," She looked up and scowled. "But I'm the one who got her so mad. Father Dom didn't. I can't ask Father Dom to clean up my messes. That is totally unfair."

"What is totally unfair," I decided to voice my opinions from earlier, though not sounding quite as patient as I should have. "Is for anyone to expect a young girl like yourself to do battle with a demon from hell like - "

"She isn't a demon from hell," Susannah countered. I thought she would have agreed with that, after the episode where Heather just tried to destroy her with the figurine of a church founders head. "She's just mad. She's mad because the one guy she thought she could trust turned out to be a - "

"Susannah." I stopped so abruptly, she lost her balance again. I had just seen dark drops splattering the pavement beneath us, and realized she was bleeding. Once I made sure she wasn't going to topple over, I looked down at her. She was quiet and her eyes were curious and thoughtful. She looked down again before closing her eyes and breathing deeply. I wondered if, wherever she was bleeding, was bothering her. But she probably would have said something if she had figured out she was injured. Well, then, her eyes were closed for a whole different reason...

"You're bleeding," I informed her, identifying that the blood was coming from her wrist.

Her eyes opened swiftly and she automatically said, "I am not." Looking around herself, she realized my words were true and then, with new dismay, she pointed out that some of the blood had gotten on my shirt. "Oh." She said, finally finding where the blood was coming from. "What a mess. I'm sorry about your shirt."

"It's nothing," I said truthfully. I reached into my pocket and retracted a white hanker-chief which I promptly tied around her wrist, touriniquet style, with Susannah watching inquisitively. "There," I said once I finished."Does that hurt?"

"No," She said. I couldn't tell if she was mollifying me. "Thanks," She said after clearing her throat.

"It's nothing," I repeated.

"No," Susannah suddenly sounded choked up, as if there was something caught in her throat. "I mean it. Thanks. Thanks for coming out here to help me. You shouldn't have done it. I mean, I'm glad you did. And...well, thanks. That's all."

I think I understood where this was coming from. Susannah was not used to being offered help. She continually believed she had to do everything single-handedly. She recieved no help, nor did she want any. So she was thanking me, for being there. And I realized that, I really was glad to be there. I was glad I could be useful to someone.

"Never mind," I said, slightly embarrassed. "Let's go home."

We walked home in silence for a while, me insisting on pushing the bicycle. I looked over to Susannah, who was normally such a busybody, and her brow was furrowed in thought. It was quite a comical expression on her.

"Heav'n has no rage like love to hatred turn'd, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned," I said gently, breaking the silence.

Susannah looked up at me, conversing slowly. "Are you speaking from experience?"

"Actually, I am quoting William Congreve." I said with an insignificant smile. What could she mean, speaking from experience?

"Oh." Susannah was silent for another moment, and when she spoke again, she was thoughtful. "But you know, sometimes the woman scorned has every right to be mad."

"Are you speaking from experience?" I wondered aloud.

"Not hardly," She snorted. "But we don't know what went on between Heather and Bryce - not really. I mean, she could have every right to feel resentful."

That was true. But it made me furious that Heather would attempt to take that anger out on Susannah.

"Toward him, I suppose she does," I said, trying to sound calm. "But not toward you. She had no right to try to hurt you." Unfortunately, I just sounded even more irate.

I imagined Susannah picked up on my fuming because to change the subject, she said, "Hey, how'd you die, anyway?"

Her question brought back the memories, and I stayed mute while thinking back upon my death.

I had been engaged to my cousin, Maria De Silva, and was on my way across the county to marry her. I stopped at a boarding house - Susannah's new home - to stay the night before continuing my journey to the wedding ceremony the next day. But Maria had a secret boyfriend, Diego, who owned slaves. Maria wanted to marry him instead, but her father wouldn't hear of it. So Maria and Diego devised a plan and Diego strangled me to death in the room that Susannah is now living in.

I realize now...I don't think I ever loved Maria. I was going to go through with the marriage because it would have been good for my family and their assets. I thought I loved her at the time, but Maria was incredibly boring. She was selfish, thought most highly of herself and never thought about anyone else besides her own character and Diego's, who was just as corrupt as she was.

I didn't want to let Susannah know about my death quite yet...I just figured it's something I should keep to myself for now.

"Um," Susannah murmured. "You know what? Never mind. If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to - "

"No," I stopped her. "It's all right."

"I was just kinda curious, that's all." She said softly. "But if it's too personal..."

"It's not too personal." We reached the house, and I leaned the bike up against the garage wall. I thought for a few minutes, trying to gather my thoughts, with us silent again. I decided to just give her the background on the house, to start off my tale. "You know this house wasn't always a family home."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. It was once a hotel. Well, more like a boarding house, really, than a hotel." I told her.

"And you were staying here as a guest?" Susannah chirped happily. She was trying to lighten the mood, but I still didn't think it was the right time to go on with the story.

"Yes."

"And..." She pressed after a minute or two. "Something happened while you were staying here?"

"Yes," I said slowly. "But its a long story and you must be very tired. Go to bed. In the morning we will decide what to do about Heather."

"Wait a minute," She squabbled immediately, as I knew she would. "I am not going anywhere until you finish that story."

I shook my head, saying "No. It's too late. I'll tell you some other time."

"Jeez!" Susannah whined. She sounded as if she had had a treat taken away from her at the very last minute. Like a small child. I smiled to myself as she continued ranting. "You can't just start a story and then not finish it. You have to - "

"Go to bed, Susannah," I said, laughing at her. I gently prodded her forward until she was at the front steps. "You have had enough scaring for one night."

"But you - " She started again.

"Some other time."

"Do you promise?" She asked me. I didn't want to lie to her, but I didn't want to tell her how I died either. It was a complicated emotion. I didn't want her thinking differently of me. And...I didn't want her knowing about Maria just yet. But I'd have to tell Susannah sooner or later, so I nodded at her.

"I promise," I said, grinning at her. "Good night, querida."

"I told you not to call me that," She muttered as she went inside.

I laughed at my Susannah, how funny she could be. I wondered idly why I did call her that. I think, by my giving her a little nickname, it made me feel like, just maybe, she didn't hate me as much as she appeared to. Hopefully, after tonight's events with Heather, we could become friends.