Hey, my lovely readers! I wanted to get another update done before I leave. (See my profile for more details.)

I'm making a name meanings collage for these characters, so let me know if there's any pictures of the actors you'd like me to use.

This chapter is dedicated to fantomdranzerx and summer164.

As always, be warned about the creepiness. (This stuff freaks ME out, but I AM an emotional person, so I never know how much warning to give.)

I do not own The Haunting Hour

After a sleepless night, Monica lied still while waiting for her husband to wake. Before he could wish her a sleepy-in-spite-of-himself 'Good Morning', she asked: "Who was she? This patient of yours? Why did she go after Georgia?"

Sam rolled over to face his wife. "The alp tried to carry out her dark side's intrusive thoughts."

Intrusive thoughts. Something many had but few acted on. Especially not so violently. The revelation rose a question Monica didn't dare blink when she asked. "What was she thinking?"

Sam sighed inwardly. In his mind, he was already being looked at as something of a villain. For lying, allowing things to get as bad as they did, and lying more. His next confession would not help his case. "Nisa wanted to be the only girl in my life."

That in itself was horrific. Monica wondered if she actually knew the man lying beside her. But only for a second. If he were really to blame, why was she talking things out instead of kicking him out?

Another question crossed Monica's mind. "How did she get it in her head to think that was okay?" Her disbelief over the entire situation kept her tone hushed and her eyes screaming.

"She didn't." Sam corrected. "I was her doctor. I was one of the only people who treated her nicely, gave her a chance. I didn't treat her like a monster. She told us she had nowhere else to go. The alp fed on all that. Do you know how easy it is to take over someone who feels empty inside?"

Again, Monica's tone was equally as upset as it was apologetic. "How would I know anything about that?" She curbed a sob, and Sam took her hand.

"The… blinding-there's really nothing else to call it-it was an experimental procedure I didn't agree with. Nisa agreed with it even though we all knew it could end up hurting her. She said she'd rather lose her sight than have to be a slave to that thing."

"But it was too resistant." Monica realized. "It knew."

A tear fell as he nodded, his ear rustling the bedsheets. "When she took on that form at night, she had no control over her actions. Most of the time they were...pranks. Nothing serious. But then it got worse. The more we tried to help, the more attached to me she got. And by the time the board ordered we go through with the operation, she was gone. When I had to continue my travels, there were agents looking for her everywhere. Her parents called in." His breath hitched before he went on. "They told us she died."

"And you believed them? Why?" That wasn't something to just take someone's word for.

Sam was well aware of that. He gulped, anger entering his tone for the first time since that call came in. "They had some pretty damning proof. Turns out she wasn't the only one with a dark gift."

This time, Monica didn't ask for elaboration. fully convinced this was something she would never understand. She felt like her family was under attack again, and she just wanted it to be over. "Sam, how do we stop this?"

"I need to find Nisa," He said, adding that to his mental to-do list. "but first I need to call for backup."

"What's your biggest weakness?" Georgia posed the question as she put a strand of hair that came loose from her messy bun and tucked it behind her ear. Her hair was put up so lazily-not for the style of it, but-because brushing the knots out that morning had been such a challenge. She scared herself when she saw hair coming out in tufts.

"I'm a perfectionist." Logan supplied. True to his definition of a perfectionist, he never felt fully satisfied with anything he'd done.

She must not have noticed. Her eyebrows seemed to dance she was so impressed. "Who coached you on this?"

"My dad." He answered with a proud smile.

"Oh, right. Who else?" She tapped her head as if to say she had a mental lapse.

He found himself laughing. "He's not the only person I know besides you guys." After a beat, Logan rephrased. "Well, here he is, but… I'm not really that antisocial." He finished his explanation as she giggled. "I just have other stuff to take care of right now."

"Like getting this job." Georgia said, watching him nod in agreement. She then turned to Jeremy. "Do you have any practice questions to ask?"

She was surprised he heard her. He didn't look very alert, and seemed to be watching the clock tick. Jeremy shook his head. "I'm sure it'll work out fine."

"Of course it will, but it's fun. He likes a challenge." Again Logan nodded.

Jeremy got the feeling there was no getting out of this game. There was no harm in participating, so he gave that some thought. Trying to come up with a question that would challenge his new friend. His clasped hands pulled apart to reveal that his mouth hung slightly open. The question took a second to voice itself. "What will make you love coming to work?"

Jeremy wasn't even sure he made sense, going by his friends' expressions. They were caught off guard, but in the best sort of way. A smile spread across Logan's face as he answered. "Knowing that I make people happy."

Telephone tag had always been a game that went on too long for Sam. He knew it was the middle of lunch hour, at least for his wife and daughter. He on the other hand couldn't stomach food. Not until this issue with Nisa was resolved. He was having more trouble getting through to his ex-colleagues than he could ever remember, learning that she had moved around between foster homes within the past few months. As he was informed, it was difficult to find a place that fit her needs. He didn't have time to wonder what that meant, he had to track her down. Finally, he was patched through to the place where she currently lived.

"Is this really Dr. Sam Lomin? I'm a big fan of your work." The voice on the other line gushed.

"And I'm a fan of getting things done without distraction, so I'll thank you for that later." It surprised even him that he answered admiration with attitude, but given the circumstances, he couldn't help it.

"Uh, right. Sorry, sir." The other man stammered in reply. "What do you need?"

"I'm checking in on an old patient of mine, Nisa Darvish." He spelled her last name and heard the man on the other line clicking through records. Followed by a somewhat nervous chuckle.

"According to this, she left here this morning with an escort. They're on course to visit you, sir."

Relief rushed over Sam. It was good to hear Nisa was alive, but if she needed to be watched, he thought he shouldn't feel so relieved. "This morning." He echoed, highly doubting it. "That doesn't sound right. Are you sure?"

The person Sam had on the phone knew that was a question for someone not quite as new as him. "Excuse me, Aubrey?" He called out. Clicking heels came to a stop before making their way back down the hallway in his direction.

"What happened to the silent treatment?" She asked coolly as she approached the desk.

"It didn't seem very effective." He answered, quickly adding: "I need your help. Do you know why Nisa checked out today? I have her doctor on the phone with me."

In answer, she gripped the receiver. "Dr. Lomin, Nisa just wanted to personally thank you for all your help. There's nothing to worry about."

"I'm not so sure of that." He said, in a tone that was a consequence of signs that an alp had intruded his home. "You're certain she left just this morning?"

"Absolutely." Aubrey answered. "I dropped her off at the airport myself."

"You were her escort?" Sam said, with a confusion reflected in the eyes of the colleague in front of her. Then, darkly, he tacked on: "And you left her alone?"

"She's completely stable. Especially after the procedure, as crudely as it was done. I don't condone that sort of thing, but it was clear you had no other choice."

"It didn't work." He informed, since he'd seen the proof.

"Yes, Doctor, it did." He could tell his former title was thrown in there as an insult, since that was what Aubrey felt he was doing to her intelligence. "She was monitored. The alp never presented itself again. And Nisa never left without asking. Not that she has to anymore." Her words had almost fizzled out toward the end of that sentence, but suddenly they sounded icy. "Say 'hi' to her for me, will you? I'm really gonna miss that kid." Sam tried to speak, but the sharpness of the tone on the other line kept him from doing so. "Remember to look her in the eye when you do. She deserves that respect."

Before Sam could recover enough to respond, she hung up on him.

"Did some late college hazing ritual turn Bonnie into a cow?" Paul questioned in confusion, seeing that there was food cooking on both the oven racks as well as the stovetop. He didn't like seeing his wife overwork herself. No matter how good it made the house smell. "Why are you making so much food?"

"To answer your first question," Kerry said as her husband went about setting the table, "she's thankfully never been hazed. And James is also joining us for dinner tonight."

"The lawyer?" Paul asked, knowing she nodded even though he couldn't look at her while handling fine china. "Why, are we suing somebody?"

She giggled as she opened the oven, and the giggling got louder when the smoke detector went off. He swatted at it with a dish towel as she told him: "No, we're having company."

"And just like with the Frosts, you don't know what he likes. So, you wanna be prepared."

"That's the plan." She agreed.

As Paul set down the table runner-the very same one used the last time James was over-his heart dropped into his stomach. "Don't you think this is a bit… awkward?"

"No. Why do you?"

"Because the last time he was here he sent our kids to-"

"To fulfill my grandmother's dying wish." Kerry interrupted, hearing that Paul was getting himself upset. "It was good for them."

"I still wonder about that." He said, looking the table over to make sure he hadn't forgotten to put anything out. Really what he was feeling inadequate about was comforting his child. "Jeremy with his… attachment issues…" He trailed off.

Kerry's response sounded a lot stronger than she felt, seeing how her son was acting lately. "He's at peace now. And I think we have James to thank for that. This seems like the proper way to go about that."

"You're right," Paul decided. "as always." The two sent each other smiles and Kerry turned the dials on the oven down to keep everything warm. Then the phone rang. Paul picked up while Kerry ran to put on her jewelry. (She never wore it while cooking, out of paranoia that it would end up literally lost in the sauce.)

She returned to the sound of her husband heaving a sigh as he hung up the phone. "What's wrong?"

"That was Bonnie. She's gonna book a later flight because she hasn't gotten her paper done yet."

Kerry nodded understandingly, though-like her husband-she wished it could've been different. Still, she tried to give the new development a positive spin. "I guess we'll have a lot of leftovers."

Georgia immediately felt uneasy the second she wasn't secretly panicked. Her newfound friendships were a good distraction from her nightmares, but they had still loomed. Up until school let out, and she no longer felt like she was being followed by bad memories.

She did what she'd seen dozens of girls do in the bathroom mirror, and went about fixing her hair. Only to find that there was nothing to fix.

It was as if the knots had untangled themselves. Elfknots were a trademark of a trickster alp, according to Georgia's research. But her research also told her alps inhabited small objects, not people. She didn't know what to believe, and she didn't know what to do.

The only rational decision seemed to be to meet up with Logan. She didn't want to keep him waiting any more than she wanted to bother him with her troubles. (Even though those troubles seemed to be doing away with themselves.) Suddenly a more challenging interview question entered her mind: "Would you choose associate with people that have been targeted by supernatural forces?" It was something she'd keep to herself, afraid to hear the answer no matter what it was.

"She won't be home for dinner?" As Jeremy stood on the corner of the block outside school, he tried to sound happier than he felt. Strangely, that took minimal effort. It actually felt good to be wrong. Even though he nearly dropped his cell phone in a puddle upon hearing the news. (He was beginning to wonder if Logan's clumsiness was contagious.) "So, what should I do? I know Dad was saying I should try to stick around school a little more-" When his mother cut him off, he worried that he'd done something to upset her. Of course he wanted to eat with his family, but that wasn't going to happen without Bonnie. "Oh, he is?" He would've been more surprised about James coming to dinner had it not been for the chill that raced up his spine and struck nerves in his shoulders.

It was like he was being watched.

"Hey, kid!" Logan turned his throbbing head and looked behind him, through the fence around the football field. The coach was standing there with a tired smile on his face. "Can you do me a favor and toss that ball back over here?"

A student-athlete stood next to the man, looking embarrassed. He was the reason Logan felt like he had a headache. "Sorry!"

The younger boy shrugged that off and shouted back: "Nah, I'm sorry. I don't have the best arm." If he was better at throwing, he might've tried out for the football team if he and his father had come to town earlier.

This didn't seem to bother either one of the others. "Then why don't you kick it?" The coach suggested.

That, he could do. He just didn't realize how well. So when he complied, and the two on the field widened their eyes to the size of footballs, he wasn't sure what to expect. The ball flew clear over the others' heads, and they had this urge to applaud the kid who was just happy to help.

Plus, the action gave the coach an idea.

"You seem better today." Logan spoke his observation on the walk home, though he knew it would make Georgia ask why he ever suspected that she didn't feel good.

Except she didn't ask. Even though she wanted to. "I feel better today."

"Good. Me too."

"Don't you feel good every day?" She teased.

He shrugged. "I can't be happy all the time. It's unnatural."

She nodded. She knew a bit about unnatural things. Then she caught up with his words. "Wait, you were unhappy? Just about us not having classes together or what?"

"I was unhappy 'cause I knew you were." He admitted, in a tone that didn't ask for explanation.

"How?"

He felt like a terrible friend for phrasing himself the way he did, despite the honesty. "I'm good at knowing when people are lying. Even if they don't use words to do it." He hoped she could tell he was looking out for her. He didn't see her as a liar. That label belonged to people that lied not to spare people's feelings, but to take advantage of them.

"I'm sorry, Logan." Though Georgia wasn't sorry that she lied. Not after she gave it some thought. "This is a family thing."

"I get it." He told her with a nod. He tried to smile but seemed to forget how, which made the silence that followed for the rest of the walk extremely uncomfortable. When they got to her house, he noticed no cars were in the driveway. He wanted to ask where Georgia's father was, but felt like he was overstepping a boundary. Especially after she had explained that the family was going through something, and that something was going to stay a family secret.

"You don't have to wait for me to go inside. No monster is gonna come get me in the ten seconds it takes to get from here to the door." It was a cruel little joke, but also a serious bit of reassurance considering Georgia felt like a crushing weight had been lifted off her.

"I know," Logan said, though he didn't budge as he waved goodbye. "but this is just how I operate."

With a nod, and that surprised feeling that was guaranteed when it came to how Logan operated, she waved back.

Sam's day didn't stop on Nisa's account. Even though he was expecting her, he still had things to take care of. Which is why he was at the home goods store, picking out a frame for Georgia to fill with pictures that would cover the hole in her wall. It was the last thing on his mental list, and crossing it off made him feel accomplished. There was the added bonus of a project to keep her mind off what had hunted her.

The drive home was dragged out by his excitement, since he knew his daughter would be there waiting for him. He hoped she was in a brighter mood, like he was. It seemed out of place with all that had gone on, but that feeling wouldn't leave him.

Not even as he walked up the pathway to his house, and was stopped short in the middle of it by a familiar voice.

"Dr. Lomin?" Hardly anyone still called him that, but that title and tone was once a chilling combination.

He turned to face Nisa, who stood with a quiet confidence even though she had her hands shoved in the pockets of her ripped gray jeans. (Worn by work and not for the fashion of it.) Her curly black hair now fell just past her shoulders, and was tangle free. The summer sun shone on her olive skin as she stood there in a light sleeveless vest. Her eyes were smiling. One dark brown, the other a slightly hazier version of that same color. With hair-thin scars around the lid.

Looking into those eyes, he could see straight to her mended soul. This young woman no longer needed his help, but it took seeing her for himself to believe it. "Nisa, how are you?" He asked although he knew the answer.

"Happier and healthier than I've ever been. I just wanted to thank you for that."

"You didn't have to come all this way. You did so much to help yourself-" He could say that with confidence in her, but his tone also carried shame. He hadn't been around to help in over a year.

She laughed in spite of herself. The image her doctor had of himself was so off. "What about how much you traveled to help all those kids before me? In places where there aren't services for kids like… like I used to be? Where people thought they were evil just because they were different? What about the ones that couldn't even tell their parents what they were?" Her striking eyes were brimming with happy tears that shunned her dark past. "I'm here for them, too." She could bet there were plenty of others that wanted to give their thanks.

"That's very kind of you, but unnecessary. I was just doing my job."

"You saved us in so many ways," She told him. "and even if you don't think so, you deserve to be recognized for that." He went to say something, but forgot what that was when he saw his former patient's face fall. He followed her glance and saw his daughter peering out of her bedroom window. Though he had no idea what expression she'd had on her face, he doubted it was a positive one. He tried to pull Nisa's attention away from that, but the only sound that left his lips was a soft whine at a loss for words. "You should get back to her." Nisa said brightly.

He nodded, but didn't move. "I'm glad you're doing better, and I'm sorry for what it came down to."

She shook her head, and left after the words: "Don't be. I've never felt this beautiful, either."

"So, you've helped Bonnie with homework assignments?" Paul asked. The broccoli that hung on his fork was pointed almost accusingly at James. It was an odd thing for a lawyer to do.

He shook his head. "No, but because of my line of work I have a lot of connections. So I was able to direct her to people that could."

"Thank you," Kerry told him, "but… why?" She spoke her husband's mind with that question.

James explained himself, though he felt like he shouldn't have to. "I consider her going with Jeremy to scatter Nadia's ashes…" The boy's ears perked up at his great-grandmother's name rather than his own, but he couldn't lift his head up with the gloomy feeling that hovered over it. Instead, he concentrated on eating. Listening intently to the conversation as he had been from the start, but not taking part in it. "...a very noble thing."

"So you're still repaying the favor?" Paul asked, trying to find the logic in that. "After two years?"

"It was a big favor." James reasoned. His reasoning still fell short for the Alastars, but they didn't question it. They trusted him. They wouldn't have invited them into their home otherwise.

"I think it must've been scary for them." Kerry said as she finished what was on her plate. (If eating had been a race, she would've come in second to her son.) "Especially being in unfamiliar territory on their own. I still don't think we got the whole story." With those words, her glance shifted to Jeremy, but he wasn't paying attention. At least, not with his eyes. That was very unlike him.

"Well, it's been nice having you here." Paul told James. "Are you able to stay in town longer?"

He nodded. "I usually have weekends off unless I take a case."

Kerry beamed. "Great, so you'll get to see Bonnie."

"As luck would have it."

For some reason, that phrase made Jeremy's ears ring. It was as if sickness still clung to him. Maybe he hadn't gotten over his cold. It was hard to be convinced of that when he had shivers, a pulsating headache, and buzzing in his ears. He hoped this was something he could sleep off.

Dinner in the Lomin household was pizza on snack tables in the living room with the television tuned into a foreign film marathon. For the first time in days, the family was able to eat without feeling like their stomachs would flip. Even with the question nagging at Georgia's mind. The question she couldn't help voicing.

She muted the TV so she would have her parents' full attention. "That was her, wasn't it?" The start of her sentence was directed at Sam, and the clarification that followed was added for Monica's benefit. "Nisa was here today."

This didn't startle her mother, since tracking Nisa down had been part of the plan. She just made it easy by coming to them.

Sam nodded. "She just wanted to say thanks." She was keeping her distance, like she had when they talked, but he had a feeling she wasn't too far away. She had to be staying somewhere close until she headed home. Wherever home happened to be.

"What about 'sorry'?" Monica asked sourly, even though she hadn't expected an apology for actions that were out of Nisa's control.

If Sam had an answer for this, he didn't get to give it. His daughter said something before he could. "Does this mean it's over?"

There was no clear-cut response for that. Still, Sam tried his best to come up with something that sufficed. "She's completely human now. It's possible the only thing that was chasing us was a memory."

That left no explanation for the curdled milk and knotted hair. Unless Georgia had been asleep much longer than she thought, and her hair's condition was a result of all her tossing and turning. The was no denying that the fear that followed her family had faded, but that didn't mean they were completely off the hook. In her opinion, it simply meant a chance for them to catch their breath.

"Good news." Hank announced quietly from the other side of his son's door. Inside, Logan sat at his desk, finishing homework that had lost priority when the two went out to eat.

He reached over and opened the door without even getting up, but turned to face his father as he spoke. "Ya know, I never get why people do that." He didn't like stalling, whether the news it eventually led to was good or bad. "Just tell me." He smiled so Hank would know he wasn't angry, but wanted his little wish to be given voice.

"Okay." A joking pause came after that, which was quickly filled by their laughter. "There's a message on the phone for you. From one of the many people who interviewed you." Logan answered this with a silent sigh of relief, but there was more to be said. "She wants to give you a trial run." Hank was glad to see he knew his son so well, because his smile didn't falter when he heard that. "She's not used to working with kids."

"...I'll give it my best shot." The boy assured, as he wrote down the answer to the last question in the work packet. He got up to go check the message, and Hank moved out of the doorway. Logan had barely reached the end of the hall before he remembered something. "Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah?"

The two turned to face each other. "I don't know why I didn't tell you this at dinner," Logan began. Though subconsciously he did the very thing he admitted bugged him: stalling. "but... something happened at school today." Something that could potentially interfere with his work schedule.

"Are you alright?" Hank asked, sensing something in his son's tone that made him think otherwise.

"Yeah." That was meant to be reassuring, but it came out rough. "Just conflicted." His frustration with himself led to him talking with his hands more than usual. "I wanna focus my energy on this job thing." In that moment, his energy went into a pitiful whine over what he regarded as irresponsibility.

"Work doesn't have to be your whole life." Hank told his son, though he wondered why he had to. They had learned that lesson together. "It shouldn't be your whole life."

Logan wasn't concerned with work taking over his life. Work meant a sense of responsibility and purpose. Money was also a good selling point. The downside to work was it meant time apart from his father. As did anything else life threw at him lately. That was the real issue, but he couldn't bring himself to say so. "I know." He wasn't proud of that reply, but it was all he could come up with.

Hank could tell his son was punishing himself, but he didn't know he was the reason behind that. "C'mon. Let's talk about… whatever it is you wanna talk about over dessert."

"Dessert?!" Logan echoed excitedly, forgetting all about his fight with himself.

With a playful eye roll, Hank led the way on the short walk to the kitchen.

The two were so deep in conversation they didn't notice when the sky swallowed the sun and spit out the moon. Though as Logan went to bed, he saw that there were no stars.

The clock on the dash read 2:52.

The car pulled up slowly, and Bonnie put it in park. She grabbed her keys and got out of the car, closing the door with just the right amount of force that it didn't wake the neighbors but still shut. As she walked up to the house, she held up her keys and aimed behind her while pushing the lock button.

Inside, the house was a calming quiet. She turned on a light so she wouldn't have to guess her way up the stairs. Though she'd lived there all her life, and probably could. At the top of the stairs, she ran a hand through her dark brown hair. The red dye had long since been washed out, but in certain light the natural highlights of a similar color could still be seen.

Even though Bonnie longed for the comfort of her own bed-and felt tired enough that she wouldn't put it past herself to pass out in the upstairs hallway-she felt obligated to greet her family. Not that she would use words to do so at such an early hour. She wanted to check up on them. It was something she knew her mother still did. Given where they lived, the action was only a tool to put her mind at ease. Kerry had never come across any sort of danger in the middle of the night. Still, she always made sure to check. Bonnie did the same as a way to pay her back.

From her parents' doorway she could tell that they were sound asleep. She bit back laughter upon being reminded that her mother snored louder than her father, and then inched the door closed again.

Turning around, a sense of confusion crept over her. She distinctly remembered turning off the hall light when she reached the upstairs landing. She mentally breathed a sigh of relief when she realized the light she saw was coming from Jeremy's room. She could bet he found a remedy for his restlessness in the last few pages of the book she'd sent him. Unable to contain his quiet excitement over her visit, and fighting off the anger he felt for it being delayed. Bonnie smiled to herself faintly when the thought crossed her mind that he was waiting up for her.

The glow from the other side of the door showed off the note on the front of it. Her note. The one he was still proudly showing off. This made her smile even more. Her smile brightened in a sneaky sort of way when she thought about not knocking-in her soft yet incessant manner- before she entered. That would put a scare into him.

She turned the doorknob, fully prepared for the two sounds bound to follow. Him gasping, and the thud of his book as it fell to the floor. Only she didn't hear anything.

What she saw was her brother fast asleep. His lips had turned a pale blue, in spirit-sinking contrast to the red eyes of the creature that sat on his chest.

The sight left her without the strength to scream, but the sound of her jingling keys falling to the floor woke Jeremy. When his eyes opened-wide with the realization that he couldn't breathe-the thing suffocating him jumped like a skittish cat that got caught rummaging through garbage for scraps. Dazed, Jeremy just stared as his attacker evaporated into the air.

"That was... real." He wheezed. It certainly felt that way.

"I wish it wasn't." His sister admitted, knowing she wasn't the only one. As she rushed to him, her light blue eyes ran over his still-stiff body, searching for any other signs of damage. None were found. She hugged him from behind-as she'd done once before-by putting her hands on his shoulders for a brief moment.

Her statement had no shock value. The last time the two of them came in contact with something supernatural, Bonnie didn't even believe it was possible. "Wh-what was that?"

The question was meant to be rhetorical, but she had something to say for it. Her voice was at a whisper, but her tone was sharp. (Whenever she was direct with her answers, they packed a similar punch to a ninja throwing shurikens.) "James might know."

The man did say he had connections, but Jeremy didn't think that meant he had a link to anything they would label 'the unexplained'. "Why would he?" He asked as he struggled-but managed-to sit up.

The terror Bonnie felt for her brother just seconds ago turned to dust from the weight of her shame. The secret she spoke then should've been shared with Jeremy months before.

"He knew about Nana…"

Thanks for reading, PLEASE REVIEW! Let me know if there are any spelling/grammar/phrasing mistakes, anything you want me to elaborate on, or any ideas you may have. I'll update ASAP! =]