Birds of a Feather PART III

by Clairavance

Come little children, I'll take thee away, into a land of enchantment/ Come little children, the time's come to play, here in my garden of shadows...

21. The first clue

Faye silently looked on as Tom attempted to comfort a distraught Jenny. Eventually Tom phoned Dee to come over when Jenny became unreasonable and slightly mad.

Dee rocked up no less than five minutes later. The look on her face when Tom broke the news to her that Julian was stuck in the shadow realm was almost funny.
"Well, then we'll just go to Pennsylvania and we'll go back and get him. You and me, Tom, and Zach. And Faye." Dee had whirled around and spotted Faye then. "You'll help us get him back, right?"
Faye returned her with a steady cold look that bewildered Dee.
"I don't think we can." Tom said uncertainly, wearily studying Faye's expression.

Faye didn't confirm or correct them. She had no voice to utter the words burning through her veins. Julian is dead.

She couldn't force herself to face the extremity of it; she couldn't because she knew once acceptance set in, she would have a breakdown that she would most likely never recover from.
She wouldn't think it, she wouldn't say it; despite her heart and mind knowing full well there was little chance of survival for him. Mortal bodies didn't last long in the shadow world, and that's what Julian's weakness had been this time around. If the door hadn't slammed shut when it did, Faye would without question have witnessed his final breath.

Faye turned to stare blankly out the window. Jenny's mother and father came by shortly after. There was no talk of shadow realms or shadow men with greedy claims in their presence.
Jenny was the one to break into a fresh wave of tears at the sight of her mother. Jenny was the one to say the words.

"Jenny... Jenny, honey what is it? Tom, what's going on?" Mrs Thornton hurried toward her daughter with outstretched arms.
"He's dead...Mom, he's dead..." Jenny's voice had been small and trembling, and it hadn't sounded like Jenny at all.
A lump formed in Faye's throat at that stage as she watched Mrs Thornton absorb the news and comfort Jenny.

Faye had no one to turn to. She didn't have that unconditional backup when she needed to talk, or vent, or release her emotions. She didn't have that willing ear and comforting words, because that's what Julian had been to her, and now he was gone.

There was Tom, of course. But Tom was just another guy; one that wouldn't understand even if she spelled it out, one that wouldn't say the right words or respond the way she needed him to. He would ask too many questions, or none at all; he would offer the same empty words of comfort, and eventually he would expect her to get over it.

Faye barely noticed when the Thornton's left with a grief-struck Jenny at their side. She didn't look up until a cup of milk and a plate with toasted cheese sandwiches were shoved under her nose.
"You need to eat." Tom said quietly, taking a seat across from her.
Faye looked listlessly at the food before staring out the window again.
"Faye. Please. You need your strength." Tom pleaded, and Faye turned to him.
"I'm not hungry, Tom."
"We'll go to the doctor later today. Make sure you haven't sustained any injuries that will affect the baby." Tom said reasonably.



Faye stared at him blankly for a long moment before closing her eyes. The baby.
Faye angrily wiped at the warm tears sliding free from underneath her eyelids. She'd been so caught up in this whole masquerade that she'd completely forgotten about her own physical fragility. It was the reason why she and Tom had gotten engaged in the first place.

"I'm fine." Faye let out her breath.
"Just to make sure. Maybe they can prescribe you something for trauma or shock..."
"I'm fine." Faye repeated firmly.
There was a moment of silence between them before Tom got up. He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. Stunned, Faye watched him stroll over to the phone, where he'd thrown it on the couch earlier. She stared blindly at the sandwich in front of her as she listened to Tom phoning the others. Zach first, then Michael.

Julian's gone, was all Tom said. No, he didn't abandon Jenny – he's gone, and he won't be coming back. Faye found it ironic that not even Tom could say the words that Jenny had blurted out before.

She glared at the sandwich. How was she supposed to eat? She'd just come out of a seven hour hunt and chase game without her best friend, how could she just eat a cheese sandwich and drink a glass of milk after that? How could Tom expect her to?

Faye left the meal untouched and allowed Tom to take her around town. The doctor was full of questions when Tom requested some sort of medicine for Faye in case of trauma. The pancakes Tom bought for her at a local diner tasted like nothing. Life seemed to lose its colour and vibrancy.

Faye didn't say anything when their friends came over and talked about Jenny. In the weeks that followed, the conversation always focussed on Jenny, and it was always the same thing again and again. Poor Jenny, she was taking this really hard. No, they couldn't see her personally because Jenny refused to see anyone. Oh, her mother is worried about her health and that of the unborn baby.

Faye was getting fed up hearing about how hard Jenny was having it. She kept herself in check on the subject, though, up until the day when Audrey and Michael came over for supper, and handed them a sealed envelope just before they left.

"What's that?" Faye called to Tom as she packed the last of the dishes and closed the dishwasher.
She watched him curiously across the kitchen counter as he opened the envelope and pulled out a slip of paper. Faye straightened as she watched him read it, a deep frown creasing his features.
"Tom?" Faye said again when Tom walked to the lounge.
"In a minute, Faye." Tom waved at her dismissively.

Frowning, Faye set about the task of tidying up the kitchen. She picked the peels of potato and carrot that had fallen off the floor, and froze when Tom's muffled voice floated to her ears.
"... need to go soon... can't take the others... Jenny wants us to... hopefully still in the basement... get in, get Julian, get out..."
Faye dropped the peels into the sink and peeked across the kitchen counter.
"Tom."
He didn't seem to hear her, his back turned to her as he sat hunched over on the couch.
"Tom." Faye nearly shouted.
Tom paused and turned to look at her. Faye beckoned to him, her every nerve tingling with anger as she waited for him. Tom got up and walked into the kitchen, a worried 'what's wrong' on his lips.
"Who's that on the phone?" Faye demanded.


"It's Dee."
"What's in that letter?" Faye nodded toward the dining room, where Tom had put the letter on the table.
Tom sighed heavily. "I didn't want to upset you, Faye. The doctor said it's not good for you or the baby if you get too upset..."
"Just tell me." Faye snapped.
"Jenny asked that we go back, and find Julian's body. She wants to have a funeral." Tom said gently.

"A funeral?" Faye repeated blankly. "What? Three months after he died? She might as well not."
"That's your opinion." Tom looked pained. "Look, Jenny needs to resolve Julian's death, and this is her way of doing it. She needs this to move on with her life."
"So you're going to go to the Shadow World and hope you find his body?" Faye asked incredulously. She shook her head when Tom started to explain, and turned to the sink. She scooped up a handful of soggy tomato bits and held her other hand to Tom.
"Give me your hand." Faye ordered.

Tom eyed the tomato uncertainly before hesitantly obeying. Faye slapped the gunk of tomato into his palm and picked up a dish cloth to wipe her own hands.
"You see that?" Faye nodded at the mushy garbage in his hand. "That's what you'll find when you find Julian. What are you going to do? Scoop handfuls of his remains into a plastic bag and hand it over to Jenny? I don't see how that's going to help her move on."
Tom turned a faint shade of green and threw the mush back into the sink. He rinsed his hands and glanced at Faye.
Faye pursed her lips and shrugged in reply. "I'm not saying he doesn't deserve a funeral. By all means, go for it. I just don't think he would have wanted Jenny to know how he ended up, that's all."

"Yeah," Tom muttered under his breath.
Faye leaned against the counter for a moment, thoughtfully watching him. "Do you think I should go talk to her?"
"If you want to. I don't know what good it will do. She's not in a very good place, if you know what I mean." Tom said wistfully.
"No, I don't know what you mean." Faye dropped her hands lightly onto her small bump.
"She's been... she's been talking about giving her baby up for adoption. She's paranoid that the shadow men will come after the baby once it's born, and apparently she's quite adamant that it would be impossible for them to track down the baby if she gave it away."

"Oh. So you mean she's doing crazy talk, is that it?" Faye arched her eyebrows.
"She hasn't been herself since he died. As far as I know, she barely talks to anyone but her mom and Dee – and the things she tells Dee calls for urgent attention. Didn't I tell you she wanted to book herself into a Catholic based asylum after the birth?" Faye stared at Tom, dumbfounded at the casual manner in which he thrust this information into her face.
"No." Faye said quietly.
"Do you want to go over and see if she'll talk to you?" Tom asked, tilting his head to the side.
"I don't really want to." Faye admitted, running her hands across her face in a frustrated gesture.
"Then you don't have to..." Tom started gently.
"Of course I have to. Julian would have skinned me alive if he knew I'd just let Jenny go downhill at her own steam." Faye glared up at the fluorescent lights before blinking at Tom. "You know, I always get this feeling that I'll never be free of him. Sometimes I can almost feel him watching me. Sometimes I can almost hear his voice in my head. Like he's haunting me, or some crazy shnitz like that."



"You never told me this before." Tom said.
"I didn't think it was important." Faye shrugged. "And it's not. He's gone, and any thought of something of him still hanging around is nothing but wistful thinking. So, in the end it doesn't matter what I think I feel, right? Let's get going, we'll do the clean up when we get back."

The drive to the Thornton house was a quiet one. Tom asked her only a couple of times if she was sure she was ready to face Jenny. Faye picked up on the worry vibes beneath his questions; he was more worried whether he was ready to see Jenny in her fragile state than he was of Faye's reaction.
They pulled up the driveway and cut the engine. Tom flipped off the lights as Faye rounded the car and went up the front porch. She rang the doorbell, glancing over shoulder when Tom made his way to her.

The door opened and a tired looking Mrs Thornton appeared. Surprise flickered across her face at the sight of them.
"Tom! Faye, hello. Come on in, what a lovely surprise!"
They followed Mrs Thornton to the living room and sat down side by side when she offered to make them tea.
"No, thank you, Mrs Thornton. We're here to talk to Jenny." Tom declined politely.
"I do believe she's gone to bed already. Wait here, and I'll go see." Mrs Thornton nodded and disappeared down a hallway.
"This is what happens all the time." Tom said in a low voice. "She always offers something to drink or eat, and when we ask to see Jenny, she goes to check, and she always comes back and shakes her head."

"Hmm." Faye pursed her lips and arched her eyebrows.
Mrs Thornton reappeared a few minutes later, an apologetic and concerned look in her eye.
"Jenny's not feeling too well. I'm sorry, she doesn't want to see anyone tonight."
"Okay." Faye stood up and wiped her palms on her jeans, glancing at Tom sideways when he too got up. "That's fine if Jenny doesn't want to see us. But I want to see Jenny, and I really don't care if she doesn't like it. Excuse me."
Faye flashed Tom and Mrs Thornton a brief smile before venturing down the hallway in the direction Mrs Thornton had come. Faye thanked her luck that the first door she opened was Jenny's bedroom.
She stepped inside, closed the door behind her, and turned the latch to lock it.

Jenny was sitting on the bed, her gaze turned from the television screen to Faye in mild surprise.
"Wow." Faye blew out her breath and sat down beside her without invitation. "Jenny, you're huge!"
Jenny's gaze didn't waver, and she didn't respond in the slightest.
"Only another two months to go. Lucky you. I still have to wait four months." Faye rubbed her hands across her own stomach.
Jenny turned to look back at the television. Faye studied her for a moment, taking in the dark circles beneath her eyes and her somewhat pale complexion.
"Okay. I tried." Faye sighed heavily and stared blankly at the TV screen. "You know I'm here because of Julian, right?"

Jenny said nothing, but Faye noticed her distractedly fiddling with a loose thread on her duvet.
"I recon the adoption thing is just hormones talking. You're struggling to sleep, you're uncomfortable, you're unhappy, and obviously the idea of raising a child by yourself is a bit scary. But adoption really isn't the solution." Faye licked her lips and glanced at Jenny. "You might feel like it is now. But once the baby is born, and you're back to normal, you'll spend every day for the rest of your life wondering what happened to your baby. And inevitably, you will regret it."
Jenny sighed softly, eyes turned to the window.


"And locking yourself in some religious institute isn't going to help you get over it either." Faye added quietly.
For a while, the only sounds in the room were the soft tones of a TV game show playing.
"He talks to me in my dreams." Jenny said softly.
Faye chewed her lip, wondering how to respond to the statement. She didn't have a dream of Julian in ages, and the last one she did have of him was a disturbing nightmare that had her sleeping with the lights on for two weeks straight.

"He talks to you, too." Jenny said and finally turned glossy green eyes to Faye. "But you don't listen to him. He told me you ignore him."
"Jenny, he's gone." Faye said gently.
"Is he really? I don't know anymore." Jenny frowned lightly and stared at her feet. "At first, I was so empty. All I could do was cry. And then he started talking to me in my dreams. And it gives me hope that maybe... just maybe, you know? Sometimes I remember the dream when I wake up, and I think those dreams in particular are important in some way so I write them down. But they never make any sense."
Faye sighed deeply. If it was therapeutic for Jenny to do that, then so be it. Faye didn't want to judge.
"He never talks to me directly, though. He always asks me to send you a message from him. To talk to you. To say things to you." Jenny shook her head and let out a half-sob, half-sigh. "And none of it ever makes sense. And I know I have to tell you these things, but I just... maybe I'm crazy."

My thoughts exactly, Faye thought and mentally slapped herself.
"It's okay, Jenny. You don't have to worry about it." Faye said uneasily.
"Last night, he was telling me Edgar Allan Poe wrote a poem about him. Something about dead spirits. He told me to tell you," Jenny looked at Faye uncomfortably. "About the dewdrops and a beautiful dreamer. He said that's your cue."

Faye wrinkled her nose and hugged herself. "Yeah, that doesn't make any sense."
"I want to have a funeral for him." Jenny looked away.
"I heard."
"You did?" Jenny sniffed. "I wanted to see if he's really dead or not."
"What makes you doubt that he is dead?"
"What makes you think that he is dead?" Jenny asked evenly.
"Jenny... there's no way he could still be alive." Faye took a moment to swallow down the lump in her throat. "Don't you think that if there was a chance, I would have gone back to try get him out of there already?"
"That's what he keeps asking me." Jenny had tears running down her cheeks now. "Why aren't you looking for him? Why aren't you even trying?"
"Trying to what? Find him? Julian is dead."
"He says differently." Anger seeped into Jenny's voice. "You should open your ears and stop turning a blind eye to him. He's trying to contact you; he told me so."
"Jenny..." Faye said uneasily and slowly got off the bed.
"He's hurt, and he's lost and angry, and you are the only one who can get him out."
"Okay, nice to see you too. Take care." Faye fumbled with the lock behind her and slipped out of the room, nearly slamming the door behind her as she hurried down the hallway.

Tom was still standing in the living room, looking somewhat awkward. Faye grabbed his arm and cast a quick goodbye at Mrs Thornton. She nearly ran outside to the car, and locked her door when she was inside.



"She's friggin lost her marbles, Tom." Faye gasped, cautiously staring out the window at the ranch style house.
Tom started the engine, but stopped to give her a long look. "What happened?"
"Nothing. She was just talking about seeing Julian in her dreams, and she started freaking me out." Faye hissed impatiently. "Can we go home, please?"
They pulled out of the driveway, but Tom switched off the radio halfway home.
"What exactly did she say to freak you out?"
"She said Julian is trying to make contact with me or something stupid like that. And then she started accusing me of not trying to find him." Faye shuddered. "I think she should go for the asylum thing."

"Don't be mean. Jenny needs help. I told you she's not in a good place." Tom chided coldly.
Faye sucked her lip as she stared at the scenery they passed on their way home. Imagine, Edgar Allan Poe writing a poem about Julian! And dewdrops and a beautiful dreamer was her cue – her cue for what? None of it made sense, it was gibberish, but part of her recoiled at the thought that there might be some truth behind the nonsense. Maybe Julian was trying to communicate with her from the other side.

The following morning, Tom told her that Julian's funeral was scheduled just before the weekend. The days that dragged by until the day, Faye's mindset altered slightly. If Julian was trying to contact her, she was obviously not trying hard enough to see the signs. She contemplated going to a medium to get some clarity on what it was he wanted to tell her, but Faye was short on money and reasoned that, if Julian's ghost was hanging around, he'd probably still be hanging around until she got another wad of cash coming in.

He'll understand, Faye thought to herself. She was telling herself the exact same thing the day of his funeral. While she was walking along the shore and exploring hidden caves in the rock formations that were only accessible during low tide, her friends were gathered around a hole weeping while a coffin with Julian's most valuable possessions was lowered six feet underground.
Faye couldn't force herself to attend, even though Tom told her it would be disrespectful if she didn't. Tom didn't understand, and she didn't expect any of the others to understand either. But Julian would understand, and she knew with an eerie certainty that he probably would have done the same if their positions were switched. Saying goodbye and having someone you've known for so long being buried before your eyes, was just too final. The last goodbye. No turning back. Faye didn't want to let go, and she certainly didn't want to make it a reality by standing at his grave.

Faye settled herself into a slight alcove in one of the rock formations and stared out at the horizon. It was sunny, but the bite of winter chills were thick in the air. Faye licked her lips and relaxed against the back wall, watching the waves crash into the rocks several feet away from her. Cool white spray fell at her feet. It was a very secluded area; she couldn't see the beach on either side and the sensation of being surrounded by water was a bit daunting. She made to get up and paused when something tugged at her.

It wasn't a physical tug because all she could feel was the spray and the chilly breeze. It was more like something tugging at her subconscious, like a memory fighting to resurface. Faye turned to glance at the small alcove, and stood uncertainly. It was on the tip of her tongue to call out to Julian, but something restrained her from doing so. It was a stupid idea that Julian could really be there, and she didn't want to feel like an idiot speaking to open air. Still, she couldn't help but glance back at the alcove one more time before she rounded the rocks and stepped onto wet sand.



Even walking along the shore made her feel a slight unease. Despite the scattered groups of teenagers on the beach, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed. She could feel eyes on her, and for the first time Faye contemplated whether it was Julian at all.

Instead of getting in her car and driving home, Faye continued her walk down the waterfront and into town. She distractedly looked in store windows, expecting every time to see a reflection of someone else right behind her. Because that's what it felt like to her; someone was following her, right on her heels, and it was unnerving.

A group of loud teenagers came bustling from a store up ahead, armed with packets filled with costumes. Faye thoughtfully watched one girl put a cute headpiece with small red devil horns on her head as they passed by her. Faye turned slightly to watch them, and sent a glance at the store from where they'd come. For all your Halloween needs, a sign read in bold running red letters above the door.

A split second of hesitation passed, and then Faye stepped into the store. Costumes of all colours and shapes lined the walls in a somewhat chaotic fashion. There were books like Witchcraft for the New Age Wiccan, Psychic: getting in touch with your sixth sense, and Fool Proof Spells scattered across a table, with several Stephen King classics and other less known writers like Derek Gunn and Ramsey Campbell and, Faye noted apprehensively, a book compilation of Edgar Allan Poe's works.

She eyed the simple green bound book for a minute before picking it up. She opened it at the index, scanning the list of stories before her eye caught on one title underneath the Poetry index. Spirits of the Dead.

A poem about Julian, hmm? Faye thought incredulously and paged to the indicated page.

Thy soul shall find itself alone
'Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.
Be silent in that solitude
Which is not loneliness--for then
The spirits of the dead who stood
In life before thee are again
In death around thee--and their will
Shall overshadow thee: be still.
The night--tho' clear--shall frown--
And the stars shall not look down
From their high thrones in the Heaven,
With light like Hope to mortals given--
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee forever.
Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish--
Now are visions ne'er to vanish--
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more--like dew-drops from the grass.
The breeze--the breath of God--is still--
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy--shadowy--yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token--
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries!



Faye pursed her lips and arched her eyebrows before closing the book and putting it back.
Well. That doesn't sound like it's a poem about him. Faye thought dismissively, ignoring the tingling in her hand when she put the book down.

"Can I help you with anything, dear?" A soft voice asked beside her.
Faye turned to look at a crooked old lady with thinning white hair and sparkling blue eyes. There was a warm smile on her thin lips.
"Oh, no thanks. I'm just browsing." Faye shrugged.
"Is there anything in specific you're looking for?"
"No, no. I'm just looking around..."
"Oh, my dear." Faye glanced at the old woman when her tone of voice changed to something very much like sympathy. Faye froze when she put an old withered hand on Faye's own hands. "Don't be embarrassed. If you do not seek answers, you will not find it. You have lost someone very near your heart."

Faye blinked and pulled her hands away. "Yeah, who hasn't?" Faye retorted.
The old woman shrugged in response, her smile never wavering. "If you wish to communicate with your loved one, I can provide you with some assistance."
"Are you psychic or something?" Faye snorted indignantly.
"Or something." The old woman made an elegant nod. "If you do not wish to communicate with that who has passed, then that is your choice."

Faye gritted her teeth when the woman turned and began to waddle back to the counter. Well, she did think about getting a medium or someone connected to the spiritual realm before. She might as well make use of this one while the opportunity was present.
"Okay, wait. Yeah, there's someone I'd like to talk to." Faye said.
She thought for a moment the old woman was half deaf when she didn't turn around. Instead, the old woman lifted a hand and beckoned to her over her shoulder. Faye faltered for a moment before following.

There was a back room that appeared to be a kitchenette and lounge all in one small cramped space. Faye sat down across from the old woman on one of the couches, surprised to find that the dingy furniture was quite comfortable.
"Okay, so how does this work?" Faye asked. "Do you need something that belonged to the person to 'tap' into them, or what?"
The old woman shifted and glanced over her shoulder toward a water canister, and Faye suspiciously followed her gaze. Was someone hiding in the dark there?
"Whatever would I need that for?" The old woman asked when she turned back to Faye.
"That's how they do it on TV." Faye shrugged.
"Bah." The old woman waved a hand dismissively. "I am the real deal, child, and speaking to the dead..." The old woman glanced over her shoulder again. "Well, to those not physically present in this life, is not something to be taken lightly."
"Of course not." Faye leaned back in the couch and folded her hands across her stomach, waiting. "So what do I need to do, or do you just start on..."

"Hush, child." The old woman chided, her head tilted slightly to the side. Her blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and when she looked at Faye there was something disturbing in her gaze.
"Ah. Yes, I see. Of course." She murmured, and nodded her head slightly. "Now, my dear. What is it that you would like to ask your friend?"
"That's it? You're not even going to tell me who it is, or what they look like?" Faye asked, her mind already out the door.


"What need I do that for? You know very w ell who he is and what he looks like." The woman frowned lightly. "Besides, he gives me the impression that he doesn't have time to waste on petty details like that."
"Riiiight. Well, it's actually one of my girl friends that passed on recently." Faye lied and got up. "Cheers."
"His funeral is today, he tells me." The woman's words stopped her dead in her tracks, and Faye spun to face her.
"But he claims he's not dead. Trapped. Between the dead?" The woman looked confused. "Caged in between the spirits? Trapped between the dead... come now, boy, you need to be a bit more straight forward than that. Trapped between the dead, trapped between the dead." The woman shook her head and gave Faye an apologetic look. "He's speaking in riddles."

Faye slowly made her way back to the couch, a deep frown on her face, her eyes darting from shadow to shadow in the room.
"Ah. He says you know where he will be." The woman nodded, and looked at Faye closely. "He's given you a clue where to find him. Soon, he says. Soon you'll know."
"Where he will be?" Faye repeated, confused. "What is he talking about?"
The woman cocked her head to the side and seemed to be listening. She cast another glance over her shoulder toward the water canister. Her forehead creased into a deep frown and she was quiet for a few moments.

"He says that he will return. And when he does, you will have your cue. He says you shouldn't worry about him not being there to see it, you should just get it done, and then go to find him. Quickly, he says. You'll know when, and when you do, you'll need to act mighty fast."
"Could you ask him to spell it out for me? Because none of this makes sense, at all." Faye shook her head.
"I don't need to, he can hear you quite clearly, my dear. And he can't tell you exactly." The woman sighed heavily. "Did you know you're being followed, child?"
"Yeah, I thought it might be his spirit or something." Faye admitted.
"No, child. He is not the one following you. 'tis another man," the woman dropped her voice. "Ugly as the devil, you could say."
"Oh." Faye said and slouched forward. "Wonderful."

"Old Hallows eve, he says for you to keep your mind open to him." The woman said. She paused, licked her lips, and gave Faye another warm smile. "That is all, dear."
"What do you mean? Is he gone?"
"They both are. For now."
"I don't need to pay for this, do I?" Faye asked, getting up once again.
"I don't do this for everyone, child." The woman followed her into the store and clutched her hands together. "It was simply too hard for me to ignore the boy screaming in frustration to get your attention."
"Ha... what? Scream..." Faye cut herself off when the old woman turned to a couple of young kids who had entered the store.
Faye left the store, feeling cold and thrilled and fearful all at once. The old woman's words were burned into her memory, but she couldn't shake the sensation of having lost something valuable when she left the store. The old woman had actually talked to Julian. She'd actually seen him.

So why can't I have a sixth sense and see him too? Faye thought enviously. On the walk back to her car, and on the drive to the penthouse, Faye reprimanded herself for avoiding him for over five long years. Of course, she hadn't wanted to be reminded of the past and all that it entailed, but now she regretted it. Maybe, in the end, it wouldn't have been that bad to remain in contact with Julian. 

They'd proven they could get along like way back when during their venture through the Shadow World. Maybe they would have discovered they could live with each other if they'd given it another chance.
Faye fought down tears. Geez, if Julian really was watching her, she didn't want him to see her crying over him. Her face flushed red at the mere idea. If he wasn't dead, as the old woman claimed he said, then he'd rip her off for sure once he got back. Once I've found him, Faye corrected herself.

Ooo888ooO

A/N: Um... poem is by Edgar Allan Poe, I decline any copyright to it. I think that's it.