It's been a while! Thank you to all who read, I hope this one is enjoyable for you! (I will be editing it again rather soon...I'm still not 100% okay with it...but, it's been months and I can't think anymore. =.=)

"At least she isn't as aggressive now," Hayden remarked. Tate remained in his usual chair, its legs hitting the floor in rhythmic bumps.

"I guess," he shrugged, gnawing on the tip of his thumb.

"Have you even spoken to her in the last few days?"

"Not really."

Hayden narrowed her eyes, her arms crossed and one hand resting against her jaw when she leaned against the wall.

"So...when you disappear, it's safe to assume that you're either stalking Violet or watching Emilee sleep?"

Tate's glare was a piercing warning but Hayden only rolled her eyes.

"That's fucking creepy and you know it," she snapped and Tate curled his fist.

"There's nothing to talk about," he said, "her boyfriend's coming over tonight and I want to be far away from...that."

Hayden clicked her tongue and shrugged, listening to the vacuum cleaner rev up in the living room. She let out a cocky chuckle and Tate resumed his moping.

"When's the last time you got laid?"

"Shut up, Hayden."

"It's been a while for me, too," she shrugged and groaned, slumping down onto the floor beside Tate. "Halloween can't get here fast enough."

Tate's chair slammed against the floor and Hayden dodged a smack against the head.

"Hey! You're never supposed to hit a woman!"

"Then stop being such an irritating moron!"

Hayden growled and scrambled out of arm's reach, Tate's eyes following her.

"I'm being completely serious, though. Maybe it'll release all that tension you clearly have."

Tate's energy intesified to the point where the vacuum cleaner shut off, footsteps padding over to the basement door and Emilee calling down.

"I would appreciate it if you guys wouldn't argue like that when Cameron gets here."

Tate growled and crossed his arms. When silence followed her statement, Emilee welcomed herself down into their hiding spot. A look of understand spread across her face when she noticed Hayden glowering at her and Tate keeping his back to her.

"Hayden, what did you do?"

"Why are you automatically blaming me?!"

"Because you're usually the one that starts shit."

There was a brief pause and Tate swallowed back a laugh. Hayden cooled her rage, seeing an opportunity, a smirk flickering across her face.

"What are you doing on Halloween?" she asked.

Emilee's eyebrows furrowed.

"I don't know, why?"

"More importantly, who are you doing?"

"SHUT UP, HAYDEN!"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just trying to help you out!" Hayden protested as she ran away from another swing of Tate's hand. When she disappeared, Tate wandered back into his chair, still avoiding eye contact. Emilee watched the tips of his ears turn pink and decided to avoid asking questions.

"I'm going back to my cleaning," she said.

"Good idea."

Her feet were almost silent going back up the stairs and Tate waited in the quiet for a few moments before going back to his usual leaning back in his chair. The vacuum cleaner resumed and the scent of cotton air freshener traveled down into the musty basement. On the other side of the basement, the Harmon couple paced about their room, Vivien holding the baby and singing soft lullabies.

"This must be some boy if Emilee has the energy to come home from school and going straight into cleaning," Ben remarked, his eyes rolling to the ceiling and his wife laughed between lines of her song.

"She's been excited about his visit, when she's not worrying about...everything else," Vivien walked over to the cradle and set her sleeping baby down. "Do you think Melinda is going to be okay?"

Ben Harmon folded his hands behind his back, his eyes falling to the floor.

"I really don't know," he confessed, "her mental state certainly won't be all in order. Do you think there is something I can do?"

Vivien turned to him with a soft, half smile.

"If she'll let you. I think you would be able to do her a lot of good."

Ben nodded in agreement, walking over to his wife to hold her.

"If you like, you can take a break. I'll stay with the baby," he said, allowing his fingers to travel through her polished curls. Vivien nestled her face in his neck.

"Tea with Moira sounds amazing right now," she remarked while pulling back. "You'll be fine for a while?"

"Sure thing."

Ben gave her the charming smile she loved so much and Vivien made her way out of the basement. The afternoon light was refreshing in the kitchen and she stretched her arms, basking in the warmth of the light.

"Oh...hi," Emilee appeared behind her, feather duster in hand and Vivien placed her hands on her hips.

"Hello Emilee," she said pleasantly. "Do you mind if I make some tea?"

The red head blinked, her eyes washing over with bewilderment.

"Uh...sure?"

Vivien went about setting out three mugs for tea. As though she heard a beckoning, Moira swept into the kitchen.

"Hello, madam," the housekeeper gave her friend a chipper smile, confusing Emilee further. "You're making tea?"

"I thought black with some honey and cream sounded great."

Vivien slid a curl behind her ear and filled the kettle with water. Emilee still stood in the doorway of the kitchen, staring at the two ghosts and trying to comprehend how they were making tea for them and her.

"If you want some help cleaning, we'll help you out," Vivien offered while setting the kettle on the stove. Moira walked over to the refrigerator, pulling out a chocolate cake and Emilee's face lit up.

"Just two questions," the red head began, her eyes following the cake to the island. "One, who is this new ghost and two, Moira, how did you manage to bake a cake without me noticing?"

"You being away at school was a big help," she teased, pulling a knife from the drawer and cutting the teen a piece. Emilee noticed how her mouth was watering and decided to focus her energy on Vivien.

"I'm Vivien Harmon," she said. "You've met my daughter, Violet."

"Yes, she hangs around my sister more, though."

Vivien noted the lack of aggression in Emilee's voice, which was a pleasant surprise. The way energy felt when Tate was around Emilee was enough to make any mother worry her daughter was an unwelcome guest in her own home.

But, everything seems fine with Violet. Emilee isn't hostile towards her, thankfully.

As if reading her thoughts, Emilee stated,

"I would be insistent in leaving if Violet or anyone here was a full on threat."

"I'm glad you two get along," Vivien remarked and Emilee set her cleaning supplies down. Moira handed her a plate with cake and Emilee seated herself at the island, happy to have such a treat before the last part of her chores ensued. A whistle from the tea kettle caught Viven's attention and she fixed her companions their mugs before sitting at the island with Emilee.

"So, you were a former owner of this house?" Emilee inquired.

"The last one, actually, before you moved in with your family."

Emilee swallowed a luxurious mouthful of chocolate.

"Why did the house stay empty for so long?"

Vivien sipped her tea before answering.

"I found it better that way," she explained, "this house...it does things to people. It traps you here."

Emilee blinked, green eyes expressing curiosity then worry.

"There's some strong energy here," she began, "both negative and positive. Honestly, I don't know which one is stronger. There seems to be so much regret and loss here."

The ghosts nodded and Moira handed Vivien a piece of cake.

"This house has been here longer than we have," Moira informed. "It had a lot of issues before we were even around. I'm sure you felt that on your first day here, though, Miss Davin."

Emilee reflected back to her first fainting spell, how the voices of the house engulfed her and swarmed her with information.

"There are multiple spirits that are trying to tell me what happened, but, I can't listen to everyone all at once," she said. "I want to know what happened to you, though. Maybe I can help you."

Vivien's expression softened into a distant warmth, making Emilee wonder what she was thinking when she met her eyes.

"I don't know if it's safe for you to even consider helping with what is happening. Or if you can," the ghost told her gently. Moira gave a gesture of agreement.

"The things that have happened in this house and the results that followed them are not exactly ones we can really resolve."

Emilee's eyebrows creased.

"What happened?"

Before either of them could answer, there was a knock on the door and Emilee perked up.

"Don't go anywhere," she said, "I really want to help you...whatever it is, I can assist somehow."

Vivien shook her head and Emilee scrambled down from her seat to dart over to the door. Moira sipped her tea, unmasking her concern with a single glint in her eye. Vivien pressed her lips together before making a swift motion to place her mug in the dishwasher. To hers and Moira's relief, the light clinks of glass was shielded by Emilee's exclimation of,

"Cameron! You're early!"

The ghosts disappeared into the basement, unaware of Emilee returning to the kitchen or Violet sitting on the staircase, listening to the conversations. Remaining invisible to the boyfriend, Violet watched a light haired boy follow her into the kitchen, his green duffle bag sitting at the front door. Emilee's happy chatter suddenly stopped when she looked around the vacant kitchen and Violet leaned in closer to listen to them.

"Are you sure there's ghosts?" Cameron asked. His brown eyes searched the kitchen and Emilee stared at him.

"Yes. They were just here."

Cameron flashed her a smile, brushing aside his blonde bangs and walking over to hug her.

"They're good company?"

Emilee nuzzled his chest and Cameron patted her hair.

"Yeah...I've been cleaning, so, I should shower before adventures ensue," Emilee sighed, the lovely rush of comfort flooding through her body the longer she held Cameron. He let her go, allowing her to step aside to make her way to the doorway.

"Help yourself to some cake," she gestured to the island, "it's delicious. We also got an invite to the football game tonight."

"Sweet! Let's go!"

Emilee smiled before running up the stairs, waving at Violet as she passed. The ghost smiled, Emilee not noticing how forced it was. When she let herself into the bathroom, Violet slipped down into the kitchen, being careful to not disturb Cameron or give any indication that she was there.

Her brown eyes studied the boy as she circled him, Cameron feeling a cool breeze as she passed. He shivered and pulled the navy blue sleeves of his hoodie over his hands and Violet departed into the basement to find her mother.

"He's here?"

Violet jumped at Tate's voice, whipping around to meet his eyes. In shock, Violet froze, Tate approaching her, seeming tense as well.

"Yeah."

He shrugged and did his best to calm the churning energies around him.

"I don't like the feeling I'm getting from him."

Violet's eyes narrowed. Despite the mellow, hands-buried-in-his-pockets stance, Tate's eyes glinted with the former malice she felt too acquainted with.

"You better not do anything."

Tate's eyes shot from the light to her, looking hurt.

"I won't!"

I've changed...I swear to you I've changed, Violet!

Before he could say anything else, she was gone. Tate retreated into the shadows, the sinking feelings he harbored about to burst into something he didn't want to allow to exist.

She doesn't like him either, though. I know it. And I want to know why.

Tate pondered telling Emilee, wondering if she would listen in the first place. Deciding it was better than sulking in the shadows, Tate walked up the stairs, circling around to the kitchen and eyeing Cameron's back as he sat at the island, texting. Tate felt a bubble of hatred form and he brushed up the stairs, meeting a towel wrapped Emilee at the bathroom door. Her wet hair was combed back and she gasped at the sight of a nonchalant Tate. Before he could open his mouth to say anything, Emilee threw a seperate towel at him and dashed into her room, muttering curses the whole way.

"Son of a bitch, Tate!" she hissed, yanking her jeans and a tank top on. Tate walked through the door and shrugged.

"I need to talk to you."

"It can wait."

Not really, Tate wanted to say. Emilee balled up the drenched towel and chucked it at his head. Not bothering to move, Tate caught it, effortlessly tossing it to the door. A cloud of ginger scented shampoo puffed around him and he gave a light noise of approving acknowledgement.

"You can't let Cameron see you," Emilee sigh as she pinned her hair into a neat ballerina bun. Her voice hinted a distant sadness and Tate slipped his hands into his pockets.

"What's with that tone?"

Emilee's green eyes gleamed enough of a warning. Tate blew stray strands of hair out his eyes and welcomed himself to a seat on Emilee's bed.

"Listen you," the medium folded her arms, "if you promise, swear, to stay on the down low for the weekend, you can amuse yourself with my books and movies or whatever. Maybe you could get to know Rowan a little more."

Tate cocked his eyebrow, but, he appeared to consider her offer. Not breaking eye contact, he ambled over to the oak bookcase, running a long finger over the worn spines of well loved novels. Upon studying a few of the titles, his black eyes seemed to fill with a foreign curiosity.

"You have everything from Shakespeare to current best sellers," he marveled.

"Yes, I'm rather proud of the library I've accumulated over the years. Some of those are my mother's."

She joined him at the bookcase, sliding a navy blue book from its resting place. She offered it to him and Tate flipped to the title page.

"The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde, huh?" Tate browsed through the yellowing pages of poetry and Emilee watched the words tumble between his fingers.

"It was the last one she ever gave me."

Tate snapped the book shut, holding it with gentle care.

"I'm sorry-"

Emilee waved a hand.

"If it'll keep you busy, read it. It's my favorite, to be honest."

All the more reason to not give it to me, Tate wanted to say and started to offer the book back. Emilee pushed it back to him, insistent.

"I think you'll like it. Wilde writes beautifully, with a dark twist, too."

Emilee turned to walk out her bedroom, picking up the towel on the way. Tate took a step to follow her, but, found himself freezing in his place. When Emilee closed the door behind her, he reopened the book and sat down on the bed again to read.


"I love the smell of the oncoming autumn," Emilee half sang as she ventured down the sidewalk with Cameron. He watched her twirl down the sidewalk, a slight smile on his face.

"So, we're still going to the game?"

"I thought we could go. If not, we can just walk around the city. I haven't gotten to explore much."

Cameron watched her bask in the sunlight. A cool breeze played with stray strands of hair every few steps they took, making her appear carefree and almost normal.

"Don't you go to Westfield High School?"

"Yeah."

To his surprise, Emilee seemed unphased by the question.

"Where that shooting took place?"

Shitfuckdamnfuckshit.

Emilee stopped in her tracks, Cameron's eyes piercing into hers.

"...yeah...why?"

He can't possibly think I'm-

Cameron seemed to tense up.

"You're not doing any...you know...weird rituals to contact anyone, right?"

God damn it.

Emilee felt as though ice had dropped into her stomach. For a moment, electricity pulsed between them, Cameron ignoring the shock and slight rage creeping into Emilee's eyes.

"I don't go looking for ghosts, Cameron," she said. "They find me."

Cameron's lips pressed together and Emilee slipped her hands into her coat pockets. She ignored his expression melting into that of an apologetic puppy and kept the light bounce in her step.

I thought you of all people would understand.

"You know I think that's cool," he said finally.

"Then why do you insist on scolding me like a child?"

Cameron reached for her, pulling her into a side hug.

"Don't be like that," he breathed into her hair. "I missed you."

Emilee welcomed his embrace.

"I missed you, too."

Deciding to drop the subject, Emilee listened intently as Cameron spoke happily about life back home.

Maybe it's best I don't bring it up again, she thought as Cameron chattered on about scholarships he was filling out for college. He's always so happy when he can talk about school.

"But I am curious," his tone changed, catching Emilee off guard.

"About...?"

Cameron paused, focusing his gaze forward, almost as though he was afraid to ask her the next question.

"Your power. Has it been accurately tested?"

Emilee cocked her eyebrow.

"You wanna rephrase there, champ?"

Cameron sighed.

"Just...you say that you've been able to communicate with the dead ever since you were very little."

"Yeah, I told you about-"

Cameron waved a hand, cutting her off.

"This is the first haunted house you've lived in, right?"

"Yes."

"And this city has nicknamed it 'Murder House'."

It wasn't a question. Knots somersaulted in Emilee's stomach the more Cameron pulled away from her, his hands sliding into his hoodie pocket and eyes kept on the stretch of sidewalk.

"I've just been thinking...maybe with all that's happened to you-"

"Are you insinuating I'm schizophrenic?"

"It does run in your family, Emilee," Cameron focused on her. He appeared nervous, like a doctor waiting for a patient to snap. "I just think you should consider logic more than the metaphysical."

Emilee stopped walking. Exasperated, she rubbed her eyes and kept her eyes on the ground.

My mother was a special case. There is no easy way to explain that my mother possessed the same power I have and yet, she was schizophrenic, too.

"Cameron, if logic had anything to offer in terms of what I've been through, do you really think I would bother with the rituals and beliefs I have?"

"I just feel like you're jumping to conclusions that are driving you further into a darkness you shouldn't be in."

"So, I'm going insane?"

Cameron bit his lip. Emilee met his eyes, doing her best to sedate her hurt and fury.

"I can help you."

Emilee pursed her lips.

"You're full of shit, doc."

Cameron's face contorted with shock and Emilee brushed passed him. Pushing down any resentment for his argument, Emilee did her best to purge their energies of any negativity.

I don't get to see him often. I don't want to ruin this visit with an argument.

Footsteps indicated Cameron resumed following her.

However, we've been apart for a while, it's not unreasonable to think that he's found some sort of logical reasoning for everything I've told him.

He was still silent. Anxiety shivered its way into Emilee's stomach and she did her best to keep her breathing steady.

But, maybe there is a logical explanation for everything that's been happening to me. I mean, what if I really am going insane? But...Rowan can see them too, sometimes. Would that mean she'd have schizophrenia, too? She's been sensing things and acting strange...maybe she's just going along with me...

Emilee rubbed her eyes again.

And if Rowan is just trying to follow in my footsteps...no, she's been with Violet! There's no way she could just guess what Violet looks like or what she's saying...

A cold chill shuddered over her.

Unless...something else is wrong with me...

A list of every sickness and mental disorder flooded through her mind and Emilee swallowed back the terror of hypotheticals.

What if...what if I snap like Melinda did? What if something is really wrong and I end up hurting Dad or Rowan...? What if I-

"Is this it?" Cameron's voice cut across her panic attack and she looked up. The familiar football field was already flooding with people. The tempting scent of hot dogs and hot chocolate drifted through the air, but did nothing to soothe the energy pulsing from Cameron.

"We don't have to be here," she murmured. "If it makes you nervous, we can go somewhere else."

Cameron shook his head and gestured to the waving figure in the distance.

"I think we're being summoned."

Emilee glanced over to see Dante beckoning them, his face painted with the Westfield High team colors and a matching Letterman jacket. Relief spread over her as Dante's smile radiated and the excitement he felt seemed to envelop him. Emilee could feel the happiness even across the short distance, readily taking it in to calm her.

"You preps are weird," Emilee teased when Dante jogged up to them.

"Whatever, Davin. This the boyfriend you've been raving about?"

Emilee hugged Cameron's arm, looking smitten and Dante rolled his eyes. Cameron kissed the top of her head.

"Alright, come on you two love birds."

The trio weaved through the crowd to the ticket booth, Emilee observing the surroundings, almost absorbing the excitement around her. Cameron trailed a little behind her, Dante casting a glance back at them every few moments. He noticed how Emilee's eyes lit with enjoyment when she finally reached the inside of the stadium, almost forgetting to pick up her ticket. Cameron appeared slightly bored, occasionally stealing a glance at the two teams' cheerleaders, a few casting him flirtatious smiles. Dante felt his skin crawl.

"How long have you two been together?" he asked Emilee when she bumped into him. She blinked and glanced back at her boyfriend.

"Quite a while, amazingly," she said.

Her voice adopted a tenderness Dante hadn't heard from her yet. Her usual quiet and defensive demeanor seemed to simmer down when Cameron was around, even if he was chatting with a group of the opposing team's cheerleaders.

"Certainly a flirt," Dante scoffed.

Emilee shrugged.

"Yeah. He was a huge player before we started dating," she laughed a little. "But, he's harmless, I promise."

He better be, Dante thought. I'd hate to think of what would happen otherwise.

Cameron finally caught up with them, Emilee noticing the lingering eyes of a blonde cheerleader inspecting every inch of him. Emilee stood on her tip toes to kiss his cheek, shooting a warning stare at the girl, who rolled her eyes and tossed her curled hair before strutting away.

Mine, Emilee thought.

Continuing to the grassy hill, Dante, Cameron and Emilee seated themselves comfortably on a spread blanket Dante brought and indulged in smuggled snacks. Despite how she knew little about football, Emilee found herself enjoying the game, watching the ball eclipse with stadium lights every few moments and the cheerleaders rally the crowd in energetic cheers.

"The best is yet to come!" Dante shouted over the cheering crowd as the Westfield marching band gathered on the field during half time. Her smile spread wide and her hands folded in front of her chest as the band started playing and the majorities danced to the music.

This is what it's like to be normal, she mused as the batons swirled through the air. Without a ghost in sight, Emilee relished the positive, adrenaline infused happiness around her.

I wish I could get used to this.

Let me know what you think!

~SNR