A/N: After 2 years, here is the final installment of Whisper in my Ear.

Enjoy!

xXx

CeruleanBlues


Whisper in my Ear

Chapter 50

Tuesday, 9.45am

/Mike Chang

"You're my savior, Sam Evans," I tell him gratefully as he hands me a steaming to-go cup of coffee. The strong whiff of caffeine perks me up instantly, and after taking a well-deserved sip, I'm finally wide-awake.

"Rough night?" he remarks, a teasing smirk on his lips even though he's holding an identical beverage in his hold, and I can bet a hundred bucks that somewhere on the other end of campus, his girlfriend is too.

"Don't I know it," I grumble out a reply.

We had stayed up till the wee hours of the morning trying to figure out possibilities and the limited ways in which we can help Elizabeth with her situation, and by the time Sam and Quinn had left, the sun had begun rising. Of course, the first order of business is to inform the rest of the team. Agreeing on a new case involves everybody's approval, especially since we need to fully involve an outsider for it, and we don't have to go down that road again. Accepting Quinn had been shaky enough—all that unnecessary drama and what not—but it had been crucial, and honestly, she's been an amazing addition.

"I need a vacation," I mutter under my breath, but it's loud enough for Sam to hear as we head towards Social Sciences.

He chuckles and hoists his backpack higher up his shoulder. "Ditto on that."

"Maybe we could have a road trip, somewhere with lots of sun, sand and the sea," I sigh dreamily, picturing the surf and the girls in bikinis. So sue me; I'm a dude. There's nothing wrong with some harmless ogling and a good tan.

"Miami?"

I nod, still lost in that fantasy. "Absolutely."

"Yeah, we should," he agrees, a stupid grin on his face.

"You just want to see Quinn in a bikini," I snort, giving him a nudge.

He winks cheekily. "Would you blame me?"

"No," I snicker, shaking my head. "Not at all. You might need to blindfold Finn, though. He might hurt himself with a permanent boner."

His face contorts into a twist between a grimace and a loathsome scowl. "Don't even, Mike Chang. I swear to God—"

"Hi, guys!"

Brittany pops up from nowhere in a bundle of unreserved energy and blonde smiles. Startled by her sudden presence in my personal space, I let out a yelp as hot coffee spills down my wrist.

"Oh, my God, I'm so sorry," she rushes to apologize and then begins digging into her bag, retrieving a pack of tissue paper. She pulls out a piece and starts dabbing the stickiness on my skin. "I shouldn't have done that; I didn't mean to startle either of you and I—"

"It's fine, Brits, really," I reassure her, trying hard not to wince at the minor scalding. "I'm good; no worries."

"You called me 'Brits'," she points out, staring at me with wide eyes, and I wonder if I've said something wrong. My mouth opens in preparation for an apology, but she cuts in just then. "Nobody else has ever called me that but my mom."

With outmost uncertainty, Sam and I exchange quick glances, and the only thing he offers me is a half-hearted shrug, but then Brittany's face simply lights up, a glistening smile stretching across her lips, and suddenly, she launches forward and wraps me in a tight hug. The strength in this girl is phenomenal—I suppose she's had plenty of practice—and my ribcage is beginning to hurt. She's squeezing the life out of me, effectively cutting my oxygen supply.

"I like you, Mike Chang," she burbles.

"Yeah, okay," I wheeze out, forcefully prying her arms apart while simultaneously balancing the full cup in one hand. "That's nice."

"Are you in this class as well, Brittany?" Sam asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Oh, no. I'm on my way to Creative Writing," she explains. "I just want to thank you guys for last night, and Quinn too. Elizabeth is still a little shaken up by it; said that she didn't like, but I told her that you'd always be there for her."

I blink, and in that instant, Brittany's expression does a one-eighty.

"I mean, you would, right?" she continues unevenly. "You're not going to leave her out to wander all alone. It took a lot for her to even find you last night, and she told me that it hurts, that if she can have it, she wouldn't want to do that ever again—"

"Of course," I cut her mid-rant because she seems like she's teetering on the brink of an emotional meltdown. "Elizabeth can drop by my place any time she wants to."

Relief sweeps through her entire person. "Thank you so much. Ever since she lost her mom, she hasn't really been with anybody else—"

"How did she lose her?" Sam asks. "I mean, they're both on the other side."

Brittany shakes her head, regret filling in her eyes. "I wish I knew, but she's not ready to tell me anything."

And then I'm blurting the words out before I can even catch myself.

"Maybe we can help."

Sam snaps his head to glare daggers at me. I suppose I'm being presumptuous, and we have yet to bring the matter up to the others, but there's nothing I can do about it now that it's out. It's not like I can turn back time and retract my statement. Giving my team leader an equivalent of an apologetic shrug with a pout, I turn to see Brittany regarding the both of us with a level of hesitance.

"You don't have to do that—"

"No, we want to," Sam interrupts her, genuineness in his tone. "We just need to run this by the others and we should be able to hop on board to help. We'd love to take on this case."

She pauses, still unsure, but eventually she gives a resolute nod. "Alright, yeah, I'd love that." And then she does another one-eighty whiplash, all bubbles and a basket of unicorns, and I'm seriously not awake enough for this. "Thank you guys so much," she gurgles and then bounds away. "And please thank Quinn for me too."

Ten seconds later, we're still frozen on the spot, trying to digest her out of our systems.

Sam turns to me, then.

"She's going to be a rather interesting addition to the team, don't you think?"

"Ditto to that."


Tuesday, 11.30am

/Rachel Berry

I'm halfway out of the lecture hall when I feel someone tapping on my shoulder. Spinning around, I'm met with a giddy-looking Brittany, all teeth and smiles and glowing with giggles.

"Hi, Brittany," I greet her pleasantly, hugging the binders closer to my chest in case she decides to establish some uncomfortably close proximity. "How can I help you today?"

"I'm not sure if you've heard about the good news, but it seems like we'll be seeing more of each other," she practically squeals, the unpleasant shrillness ringing in my ears. "Can you believe it?"

Resisting the urge to cringe, all that I have left to offer is a blank stare. "I'm not following."

"We're going to be teammates!"


Tuesday, 2.55pm

/Sam Evans

Henri St. Pierre's office is an organized mess of books and papers and folders, and every bit the stereotypical Historian, but that can only mean good news. His dark oak desk is littered with documents and a complicated-looking magnifier of some sort, and drowning in his own work is the man himself, sitting on a well-worn leather chair.

"Mr. St. Pierre," I approach, extending a hand out for him to shake. "I'm Sam Evans, and you spoke to Mike Chang on the phone yesterday," I introduce, gesturing to my trusted team member as they exchange pleasantries. "Thank you for having this meeting with us today. I'm sure that you're an incredibly busy man."

"Please call me Henri," he says. "And it's my pleasure. I have to admit, Mike, when you called and explained your situation, I was really intrigued. I've heard plenty on the Roseanne House, a lot of speculations on it, but there never was anything concrete. It's a phantom house, and I've been searching for evidence my whole career trying to find it. You can only imagine how excited I was when I heard from you."

"Well, we're just glad that you can help us," Mike tells him, fishing out a thick black binder from his backpack and setting it in front of Henri. "Here's a log of our investigation. It has every detail—every paranormal occurrence, transcribes from our EVP sessions, evidence—and the physical documentations that we've found and have yet to figure out what they are."

He takes a moment to peruse through the first few pages, nodding at intervals, and making noises of approval at punctuated stops, and then he pauses at the old photograph that we had found inside the box.

"Where'd you get this?" he breathes, eyes still glued to the picture.

Mike and I promptly exchange silent glances, and it's my call, really, if I'm planning to disclose everything about the mystery. Of course, we've left out certain discrepancies in the report—Quinn's abilities, my constant dreams, things that don't make us look like a bunch of crazy college kids—and if we're going to open one door, the rest would have to follow.

"It was in a box hidden in a tree in the property where Camden House is," I divulge, seeing no harm in telling him, considering the evidences that we've already attained anyway.

"But—but this is the Roseanne House," Henri says. "One forty-two is the address, until all accounts of it vanished after the flood of 1962. Roseanne Walters, the only daughter and heir to the cotton mill empire of Sid Walters, was reported to have drowned in that house, and that's the last of the articles found of the Roseanne House."

I'm deeply impressed. This dude definitely knows his stuff.

"Why didn't I think of it before?" he muses. "The Camden House was built on an unclaimed land where the Roseanne House had been. It never occurred to me what a coincidence that was, but of course, what the papers made of it was that there were illegal immigrants from the south until they were evicted, but—"

"What if we tell you that we have proof that those people were forced out of their own property," I inform him.

His gaze snaps up to meet mine before they narrow inquisitively. "How?"

Mike leans forward and begins flipping through the pages in the binder.

"We believe that we've found the deeds to the property."


Tuesday, 4.10pm

/Mike Chang

Sam and I watch at Henri rifles through a cupboard full of folders and articles and returns to his desk with a pile thick enough to rival an encyclopedia—if anyone still uses it in this technological era, that is. He drops the stack on top of everything else that's already on the desk, the dull thud echoing in the room, and then he's furiously flipping through the pages. It's like watching a mad scientist at work; this guy definitely loves his job, and he seems to already know what we're talking about.

"A-ha!" he cries out triumphantly, brandishing a yellowing piece of document before sliding it across the span of the table, setting it next to the deeds that we've found. "Right, so this one right here, is a copy of a record from the courthouse, addressed to one Mr. John Smith—this backdates way before Pocahontas, mind you—and back in the 1960s, there wasn't a standard format or layout of writing a deed, so in a way, it's rather tedious in terms of archiving them. So, John has a list of things that he'd like to procure in his deed, so there's this entire paragraph right here stating his property, his shares, his wealth, and so on and so forth, however, the one that you have with you only mentions the Roseanne House, but it's so unclear how big the size of the property actually belongs to Roseanne Walters." He runs an index finger over the faded hand-written words. "Right here; that can very well read seventeen or eleven, or even twelve. I can't tell at the moment, but that just means we need to head down to the city hall have a look at the property of Camden House and compare it to this figure. Anyway, that's not really important right now, because what really matters is this."

Henri shifts his finger down to the bottom of the page.

"Stamp of approval from the court of state, the signature of the governor and the secretary of state," he goes on. "Wilfred Mott and Jack Harkness. Although it's faded here, you can clearly see that the stamp is authentic. It says here, witness: Wayne Hunters. I wonder if he were of any connection to Roseanne Walters."

"I think we can answer that for you too," Sam tells him, turning a page in the binder. "This birth certificate right here, it's for a girl—Violet Hunters—and daughter to—"

"Roseanne Walters and Wayne Hunters," Henri finishes, utterly amazed at the discovery.

"Is that an authentic documentation?" I ask, gesturing towards the birth certificate.

Henri nods almost instantly. "It's as authentic as it can get, really. Typewritten with an authorized signature, I don't think this can be duplicated or forged—well, it's highly possible, but not for this, I'm sure, but I just have one question."

"Go on," Sam gestures for him to continue.

"What is this to you boys? Why the interest in this property?"

I turn to Sam just as he's inhaling a deep breath.

"It belongs to my family, and I think we'd like to have it back."


Tuesday, 6.45pm

/Sam Evans

After over two hours, Henri assures me that we indeed have a case worth exploring and fighting for. It's going to take months, possibly even a couple of years, to sort everything out and neaten the edges, but it's possible. Of course, it means that I'll have to break the news to mom and dad, and Aunt Penny, and I'm sure Quinn and the rest of the team are going to be ecstatic when they hear about it, but that can wait.

Right now, we have a scared little seven-year-old girl who needs our help.

Mike and I head back to the headquarters to see that the gang is already there. The lively chatter dies down the moment we enter and everybody stares expectantly, itching for updates.

"Well, it seems like we have a case against the Camdens," I announce, and then there are happy squeals and hoots and cheers, and Finn declaring that it's the perfect time to celebrate, but all I can really think of is my beautiful girlfriend coming up to me with that gorgeous smile and those striking hazel eyes and wrapping me up in a warm hug.

"Congratulations, Sam," she whispers in my ear.

I'm grinning like a damn idiot, and she smells so good, and before I can stop myself, I'm peppering kisses down the slope of her neck. "Couldn't have done it without you, Q."

She hums in reply, burying her nose in my shoulder, and I suppose we can probably stay this way forever, but then Mike gives me a slight nudge and I remember that there's still one more thing that I need to do. Quinn senses it—knows what it's about—and pulls away just as I loudly clear my throat for attention.

"We have one more piece of news," I begin. "Last night, Mike had a paranormal experience in his dorm room. He carried out an EVP session, and we found out that it was Elizabeth, the seven-year-old girl who follows Brittany around."

"Wait, what time was that?" Rachel interjects.

"It started at around nine forty-five," Mike answers her. "I heard some light tapping in my room; thought it was the wind, but it carried on for quite some time and it sounded as though someone wanted to get in." He demonstrates the pattern, the triple taps, against the surface of the desk. "Just like that, and it couldn't possibly be the wind. When I called out to it, the sound stopped, but then it would start up again, so I did an EVP session. The tapping sounds would then occur on command and when I played the recording back, I heard a giggle, and that's when I called Sam over."

"And of course, Quinn was conveniently there too, or you wouldn't have known it was Elizabeth," Rachel deadpans.

I shrug, not wanting to indulge in her nitpicking ways. "We were wondering why she was in Mike's room instead, and we found out that Elizabeth had wanted to play but Brittany hadn't been free, so Brittany told her to go find Mike because he's the friendliest member of the team."

Finn gives an indignant snort as he folds his arms across his chest.

"Very classy, Finn, really," Mike retorts.

"The only problem with that plan," I soldier on before things start to get a bit crazy. "Is that Mike can't see her. Another problem is that Elizabeth is not a free-roaming entity. She needs to be attached to somebody—Brittany—and I'm not getting into any details about it now but to cut the long story short, she lost her mom."

"But they're both on the other side," Tina points out. "They should be able to find each other."

I nod. "And that's where we come in. I'd like to help her; it's not healthy for Elizabeth to be here for too long."

"Okay, stop, stop," Rachel butts in again, not the least bit pleased with the proposition. "So is this what we do now? Hunt down lost entities and helping them solve their problems? We're technical paranormal investigators, not ghost whisperers."

"We help people, Rachel," I remind her, trying to come across as professional as possible. "We help people deal with the paranormal, however that is attained. Before, we were limited by equipment, looking at things in a scientific point of view, but right now, we can be so much more. Helping Brittany would bring us closer to understanding what have been eluding us all these years. We have a Psychic and an Empath, and with Brittany, we're able to build one more bridge into the paranormal world—it's possibly the best thing that a team could have. Just think about the people we can help and the mysteries we can solve."

"It actually sounds kind of cool," Finn remarks. "I mean, we're like detectives for the dead."

Rachel shoots a venomous glare his way.

"Rachel, what exactly are your concerns here?"

She huffs and tucks some stray strands of her hair behind her ear, the movement filled with frustration. "Is that what we're going to be like now? We'll just take in whoever's next with special abilities? Are we the X-men?"

Mike scrunches his nose together. "X-men? We're not mutants, Rach."

"That's not the point," she grumbles. "What I'm trying to bring across that you're all failing to comprehend is that—"

"You're worried that you're going to be an invalid in the group," Quinn says softly. "That you're not going to be important anymore. Is that it?"

Rachel freezes, then; her expression neutral. "I would appreciate it if you don't invade my personal thoughts."

"Actually, you're screaming them in my head," my girlfriend mumbles, shrinking back into me, and I suppose the negative vibe is making her uncomfortable.

"Listen, Rachel," I quickly intervene before the brunette spontaneously self-combusts with pent-up exasperation. "Everybody in this group is important, and we're not going to treat anybody differently. When we go into a paranormal investigation, it'll always be hard evidence first, logical thinking, debunking stuff; nothing's going to change. Quinn had been sitting in central command, and she does analysis like the rest of us, and I assure you, it'll be just the same when we assist Brittany with Elizabeth."

Her eyes narrow accusingly for a second. "You've already agreed to it, haven't you? Is this why she came up to me after class and shrieked into my ears to tell me that we're going to be teammates?"

I tilt my head in slight confusion. "She hasn't officially joined the team yet, Rachel. We just mentioned that we'd help her out; that's all. I don't know how she—"

"Oh, my God!"

In perfect unison, we whip our heads around towards the door just as Brittany S. Pierce skids into the room, breathless and positively radiant with energy.

"Miami!" she cries out in delight. "Elizabeth thinks that her mom is in Miami!"

Mike and I turn to each other, matching smiles on our faces.

"So, Rachel," I smirk. "Fancy a road trip to Miami?"

"I—but—what—I—"

Satisfied with her attempt at a coherent answer, I glance back around to meet Brittany's sparkling eyes.

"Welcome to Project Paranormal."


A/N: The end! That's it—all 50 chapters of it—and I've had a brilliant time writing this! It's so much fun and it explores so many amazing things that I wouldn't have been able to had it not been for this genre of writing! I've slipped in some Doctor Who in there, see if you can spot them :P So, from here on out, it's onward with The Housemate Agreement, and perhaps a few 4-parters along the way. A big thank you to everybody who's been there, constantly supporting me through 2 mad years! Love you guys so much! Cheers!

OhHeyAl: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it! Thank you so much for a wonderful words, and yes, I'm so excited to got back to writing THA! I hope you've had a great journey with this story! Hopefully I'll hear from you soon! Cheers!

Samquinnchorddianna: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a nice, lengthy review! I really appreciate it! I hope you've had a great time following this mad journey into the paranormal and mysteries and Fabrevans! I can't wait to start up on THA again, and hopefully I'll hear from you again! Have a great Chinese New year to you too! Cheers!

Pieceofcupcakes: Hi, right back at you! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it, and yes, it's really bittersweet for me, ending this story too. I hope you've enjoyed the mad roller coaster ride into the paranormal and everything else with Fabrevans and the other characters! I'm glad that you've enjoyed the mystery aspect of the story, even though it creeps you out at times. I'm really flattered! Hope to hear from you again soon! Cheers!

NileyOvergron: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a wonderful review! I really appreciate it! LOL! I'm already missing this story; it's bittersweet, really, after 2 years! I'm definitely going to continue writing as long as I possibly can! I'm glad you liked the bathroom scene in the previous chapter! I had fun writing that bit because it's so different from the other sex scenes in this story! Hope to hear from you soon! Cheers Raquel!

RJRRAA: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and never failing to leave a review! I really appreciate it so much! You've been an incredible support to my stories and I still feel all warm inside whenever I receive an email and I see the 'sooooooooooooooooooooooo' and it makes me smile all the time! Yeah, I can't believe this is the end too; it's bittersweet! I'll be starting on THA again, so that's good news, right? Hope to hear from you soon! Cheers!

Thegleekreader: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it! I reckon it must've been tough trying to keep up with 40 over chapters, and I'm flattered that you'd spend a week reading this story! I'm glad that you found the connection between Sam and Quinn adorable! Hope you've enjoyed the craziness that came along with this story! Cheers!

FabrevansFTW: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a wonderful, lengthy review! I really appreciate it! I'm glad that you've enjoyed the craziness in the story and that in spite of the supernatural stuff, you still stuck on and continued reading :D I'm really flattered! Well, it works both ways, being a writer. Without readers who care, we won't have inspirations and motivations to write, so thank YOU for being a wonderful Fabrevans shipper! Cheers!

Kera: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it! I'm glad you liked the previous update, with the date and the smutty bathroom scene! It was so much fun to write because it differs from the other Fabrevans scenes that I've written for this story. It's bittersweet ending this story, but now I'm able to move on to another story that I really love and focus on developing the best for it! Hope to hear from you soon! Cheers!