A/N: You guys! It's here! It's the Halloween chapter! Halloween is absolutely my favorite holiday, so I knew I wanted to cover it in this story.
I'm so excited to finally get to post this, it's one of my favorite chapters in the whole story thus far. It was so fun to write, even though I wound up rewriting whole sections a few times.
I also have another, subtle, voice actor reference in this one. Let me know if you find it.
D… E… P… E… N… D… S.
Chapter Twenty-Seven: I'll Be The Ghost Inside Your Head
Darkness had fallen, but the streets were busy this autumn night. Jack had reluctantly promised the Headless Horseman a snow-free evening (at least, while the night was still young), but he couldn't help still visiting, leaving frost on roof tiles as he settled down to watch.
There were super heroes, witches, monsters, princesses, and ghosts, all wearing glow stick necklaces to stay safe in the dark and carting pillowcases and pails as they bounced from house to house, eagerly demanding treats. Jack watched with a grin as they laughed and shrieked in delight. For so many of these kids, counting down to Halloween was just as important as counting down to Christmas.
Pitch had been quiet since the night that Jack and Tooth had spied the Nightmares. The globe had shown nothing suspicious. Jack, Sandy, and Tooth had been keeping an eye out each night for anything else out of the ordinary. Bunny even left the warren some nights to do his own patrols. But none of them had found a thing.
Bunny had suggested that Halloween might be the next night Pitch tried something, that he'd fly under the radar with kids being scared anyway.
But so far? Nothing. Just kids in costume, candy, and the absolute glee that came with donning disguises and celebrating the strange and spooky.
Jack tensed for a moment when he heard the unmistakable sound of horseshoes on pavement, pulling himself to his feet at once. Perhaps he had been too optimistic too soon.
But it was not the nightmares. Nor was it Apollo.
Jack sighed, relieved, to see the Headless Horseman making his way down the street, his black horse galloping proudly. The Horseman carefully balanced a glowing jack-o-lantern in one hand, the reins in the other. An eerie, echoing cackle could be heard emitting from the jack-o-lantern, and children and parents alike stopped to point and cheer for him.
Halloween was the one night a year that the Horseman could be seen by all mortals, and it was clear that he loved every moment of it.
The parents that saw him assumed it was a dedicated person in an elaborate costume. Some of the children did, too.
Still, others hid behind siblings and gasped in awe in such a way that it was clear: they knew.
"I'm watching you, Jack!" he called in that ghoulish tone as he passed, Jack offering him a mocking salute in response.
It was bittersweet to see the Horseman, but Jack noted that at least he wasn't about to have an emotional breakdown this time.
That was probably something resembling progress.
A few children had pointed Jack's way after the Horseman had called attention to him and Jack smiled in response, waving before setting a finger to his lips, as though it was a secret from the adults that he was there.
He wasn't sure how his legend had spread around to other elementary schools since the previous spring when he'd joined up with the Guardians. He supposed he had somehow gotten mixed in with cootie catchers and cat's cradle, somehow always showing up in schools and being taught from one student to another.
It seemed to start at Burgess Elementary, and that made enough sense with Jamie and his friends. Then it somehow made it to the next town over, and the next.
Still, Jack's number of believers was small in comparison to the others, who had more time to solidify their place in culture. It had been explained that it was fine to start with a small number of believers, but the more he gained, the more reliant on that belief he would become, as though building up a tolerance.
He frowned slightly, wondering how long he could keep this up, how long it would be before whispers of Jack Frost fell out of style.
Absentmindedly, Jack flew off, landing a short while later in Burgess, balancing on a telephone pole.
He scanned the crowds of kids roaming about, looking for the familiar group. It was the first holiday since Rowan's passing that he and Jamie were on okay terms again. This meant that hopefully, much like the Horseman, Jack might be able to see Jamie and his friends without spiraling into further depression.
Halloween wasn't one of the holidays that Jack purposely spent in Burgess for tradition's sake. The previous year, he had spent Halloween flitting around the larger cities that hosted zombie crawls, mazes, and extravagant haunted houses.
Halloween in Burgess was fairly tame, cute even, in comparison. The decorations were inflatable, wholesome. The ghosts were friendly.
Cupcake was the first one Jack spotted, still taller than her friends, though Pippa had never been far behind. The boys would catch up, maybe even pass them, a little later, Jack supposed, with those awkward growth spurts that were still to come.
Cupcake's costume was pink, as expected, some sort of princess that Jack was having a hard time placing. Something told him it was from a video game, and he didn't have the same access to those as he did movies.
Sneaking into the movie theater was easy when you were invisible. Obtaining an expensive gaming console? Not so much.
Pippa's hair had grown, and was in a braid. She wore black, carrying around a quiver and bow. Katniss Everdeen, Jack knew that one at least.
The boys, it seemed, had planned and coordinated, and were still enthused from the previous year's Avengers film. Claude was painted green to pass as the Incredible Hulk, Caleb wearing a plastic rendition of Iron Man's armor. Monty wore blue, carrying a plastic shield as Captain America.
At the head of the group, grinning and holding a replica Mjolnir, was Jamie as Thor. Jack smiled softly, remembering that Rowan had also liked Thor best, having had a small Mjolnir keychain hanging from her car's rearview mirror.
("Why do you have that there? Every time you hit a bump, it smacks against your windshield."
"You sound like my dad. It was too heavy to put on my keys, so I stuck it there."
"And why Mjolnir, then?"
"Because Thor's the best one."
"I mean, I like Captain America."
"Why, because he spent so much time in ice?"
"Shit, I didn't even make that connection."
"Anyway, I like Thor because he's kind of like if a golden retriever became a person. I also just apparently have a fondness for the Norse legends, Jokul Frosti."
"I knew you were fond of me, Sawyer!")
He wondered where that keychain was now. Where her old jeep was. Had her parents put it away somewhere as well, or finally sold it?
"You could have been Hawkeye, he has the bow and arrow too," Monty was saying to Pippa as they passed, not noticing the lurking spirit in the shadows, too distracted by Halloween fun.
"Katniss is way cooler," Pippa said.
"Hawkeye has exploding arrows," Jamie pointed out.
"Katniss has an outfit that's made of fire," Cupcake countered.
It was nice to see Jamie actually enjoying the time with his friends, debating favorite characters. For a split second, Jack considered flying low to join the conversation (he vaguely wondered if Cupid had opinions on these fictional archers), but something held him back.
Jamie could see him again, talk to him again. He seemed in much higher spirits. Surely Jack would be welcome if he dropped in.
But he had all winter. For now, it was just nice to know that they were happy and having fun, that it was still something that was possible.
Maybe he was finally learning to observe the children from a safe distance.
Maybe speaking with all of them opened the possibility of questions about Rowan (the last time Jack had spent time with all of these kids, he realized, was the time Rowan had tagged along) that he did not feel up to answering tonight.
The wind picked up and he drifted along, landing in the cemetery. He had intentions of dropping by Rowan's grave, having not visited since he considered that he needed to be speaking to the living more. But, surely tonight would be an appropriate night to return.
He wondered if there was any truth to the idea that around Halloween, around the following two days, the Days of the Dead, that the dead were more inclined to visit. Another question he might ask a death spirit the next time he saw one.
Jack paused as Rowan's headstone came into view, finding that he was not here alone.
There were three teenage girls, all dressed in black, a few yards away. One was olive-skinned with dark hair and wore an ankh necklace. Another had purple-dyed hair and cheeks covered in acne and thick, mismatched foundation. The third had mousy hair pulled back in a ponytail, and glasses.
"I don't like being here at night," the mousy-haired girl said. "Couldn't we have done this when the sun was still out?"
"It's more atmospheric this way," said the girl with the ankh, pulling out a lighter to light a few cheap tea lights and set them up around a flimsy Ouija board the girls had placed on the ground between them. They each sat around it. "And there's less interference."
Cocking a brow, Jack approached the girls to get a closer look. They had to be around fifteen, and shouldn't be able to see him.
He settled down, cross-legged, at the last, unoccupied side of the Ouija board. As expected, they did not acknowledge him.
"How do we do this?" the purple-haired girl said.
"Okay, everyone put two fingers on the planchette," said Ankh-girl, setting her index fingers to the small, heart-shaped block atop the main board.
The purple-haired girl eagerly set her index fingers there as well. The mousy-haired girl hesitated.
"Come on, Rach," said Ankh-girl.
Rach's hands were trembling slightly as she reached forward, setting her index fingers to the planchette.
"Now, we warm it up a little," Ankh-girl said, moving the planchette in a small circle. "And we invite the spirits to talk to us."
"How do we do that?" asked the purple-haired girl.
"SPIRITS FROM THE OTHER SIDE," Ankh-girl exclaimed suddenly, dramatically, leaving her friends (and Jack) jumping in surprise at the enthusiasm. "HEAR US! SPEAK TO US!"
Jack eyed the board curiously, wondering if anything would happen on its own. A few moments passed with nothing, and he set his own hand to the planchette.
This might be fun.
He slowly began to slide the planchette, some frost forming beneath his fingers.
"Okay, Mandy, very funny," said Rach.
"I'm not moving it," Ankh-girl said, eyes lighting up.
"Caitlyn?" Rach said, desperately glancing at the purple-haired girl who shook her head, eyes wide.
Jack stopped moving the planchette when it settled above the "Hello" written on the board.
"We've got one, we've got one!" Mandy said with a grin. "Hello, Spirit! What is your name?"
Jack chuckled slightly and moved the planchette again, the girls reading the letters aloud as he paused at each one.
"J… A… C… K…" they each said.
"Hello, Jack!" Mandy said eagerly.
"What do we ask him?" Caitlyn said, nearly vibrating in excitement.
"Nothing stupid," Mandy said at once.
"Do you know Freddie Mercury?" Caitlyn said. Mandy immediately rolled her eyes as the planchette slid over to "Yes."
"Oh my God! I have so many questions," Caitlyn said.
"Do you know Freddie Mercury or do you just know his music?" Mandy clarified.
"M… U… S… I… C…" the girls read as Jack moved the planchette.
Caitlyn pouted.
"You need to be careful what you ask," Mandy said. "Spirits can mess with you!"
Jack smirked and moved the planchette again.
"T… R… U… E…" the girls read.
"Jack," Mandy said. "How old are you?"
Jack slid the planchette again.
"3… 1… ew, he's in his thirties," Rach made a face. Jack snorted, continuing to slide the planchette. "9… wait."
"He's not thirty-one, he's three-hundred and nineteen," Mandy said, grinning.
"How old were you when you died?" Caitlyn asked.
"1… 8…" Mandy read, brow furrowed.
"So you've been dead about three-hundred years?" Rach said, eyes wide. Jack slid the planchette over to "yes."
"You were awfully young when you died," Mandy said. "What happened?"
"W… E… J… U… S… T… M… E… T…" the girls read.
"What is wehjoostmet?" Caitlyn said.
Rach frowned. "He said, 'we just met.'"
"Oh, right," Caitlyn said, looking bashful.
"Did you live here in Burgess?" Mandy said, trying another question. Jack slid the planchette to "yes," again.
"Were you cute?" Caitlyn asked. Mandy shot her a look and Jack laughed. "What? We're talking to a teen boy ghost! I want to know if he's cute."
"Jack, you can ignore—oh, no, there he goes. S… T… I… L… L… A… M…" Mandy said, eyes fixed to the board.
"You single?" Caitlyn asked.
Rach sighed. "Please do not try to date the spirit, I know Mandy's the expert or whatever but I feel like you're not supposed to do that."
"I… T… S… C… O… M… P… L… I… C… A… T… E… D…" Caitlyn read. "It's complicated."
"He's letting you down easy," Mandy said to Caitlyn. "Are you done hitting on the spirit?"
"Fine, fine," Caitlyn sighed.
"Jack," Mandy said. "Are you a good spirit or a bad spirit?"
"Hmm," Jack said before sliding the planchette again. D… E… P… E… N… D… S.
"Depends," Rach frowned. "I don't like that it was not an immediate 'good.'"
"Beggars can't be choosers," Mandy said.
"I am not begging to talk to anyone, this was your idea," Rach said.
"Well don't act all ungrateful, he might stop talking to us," Mandy hissed. "Jack, do you spend a lot of time in town?"
Jack pushed the planchet over to "yes."
"Okay, okay, um… were you here the morning of January 28th?" Mandy asked. "Or, I guess late on the 27th, early on the 28th."
Jack frowned. He jiggled the planchet over the "yes."
"Oh God," Caitlyn said, eyes wide.
"Do you know what happened to Rowan Sawyer?" Mandy asked. Rach cast her a nervous glance before all the girls focused on the planchette.
So much for not answering questions about Rowan tonight.
Jack began sliding the planchette toward the "Goodbye" on the board. Perhaps this game had run its course.
"Wait, wait," Mandy said, seeing what was happening. Jack paused. "Listen, listen, it's just—It's scary, you know? I don't live far from there and I feel this weird presence every time I walk by the lake now. I mean I always felt something there but it's different now."
"She used to visit in the summers. She would come into the ice cream parlor where my brother works," Caitlyn said. "She was always really nice, she said she liked my hair once, she tipped well… I know that doesn't mean anything in the grand scheme of things, but, I don't know, it's weird that she's still in the news sometimes and that I remember her just being normal and bringing her cousin in for ice cream."
"It's just weird having something like that happen so close to home," Rach frowned. "You hear about it happening in other places but… it's different at home."
"Are you still there, Jack?" Mandy asked.
Jack sighed, sliding the planchette to "Yes."
"Did you know her?" Mandy asked.
A slight jiggle of the planchette on the "Yes."
"Was she kidnapped?" Rach asked.
Jack pushed the planchette over to "No." Not really, anyway. She wasn't willfully away from home, but it wasn't quite a kidnapping either.
"Abducted by aliens?" Caitlyn asked.
He jiggled the planchette over "No."
"Was her death an accident?" Mandy asked.
Jack pushed the planchette to "Yes." Technically, it was, as much as Jack liked to cast blame upon himself.
It would be far more efficient to just say "yes," than to go on a guilt-ridden tirade to a bunch of teenagers, one letter at a time.
"Is she where you are?" Mandy asked.
Jack slid the planchette back over to "No." Before they could ask a follow-up question, he began spelling out a further elaboration.
"C… R… O… S… S… E… D… O… V… E… R…" Mandy read. "She crossed over."
Jack slid the planchette back to "Yes."
"And you didn't?" Mandy said.
Jack slid the planchette to "No."
"Do you have unfinished business?" she asked.
I… G… U… E… S… S.
"Can we help?" Caitlyn asked.
"We don't know what his unfinished business is, don't sign us up for anything," Mandy said.
Jack smiled softly, moving the planchette to "No." He then slid it over to "Goodbye" at last, the girls not attempting to stop him this time. With a flick of his wrist, the wind picked up and extinguished all of their small candles for effect, casting the girls and their board in darkness.
"Okay, really, how did you do that?" Rach said, releasing the planchette to gesture to the candles.
"I didn't do anything!" Mandy insisted, pulling her lighter from her pocket and beginning to light the candles again. "Do you guys want to go again?"
Jack stood upright, walking around until he was behind the girls. Carefully holding his staff, he tapped each girl's shoulder with one end of it. They each jumped in surprise at the cold, Rach jumping to her feet at once. The wind picked up and extinguished the candles again.
"I want to go back to the rec center. You know, where our parents think we are," Rach said at once.
"You felt that too?" Mandy said, looking around the darkness, excited.
"Mandy, I mean it, if you're doing this—!" said Rach.
"I'm not doing anything!"
Jack laughed to himself as the girls began gathering together their spirit board, Mandy continuing to insist to her friends that she hadn't been behind what the board had told them that night.
He glanced past them, to Rowan's headstone, observing the whole exchange. "I'll come back later, Sawyer," he said before flying off.
It was only as the last jack-o-lantern on the last porch was extinguished that snow had begun to fall. It was silent and gentle, catching the glow of the streetlights as it went.
Halloween had fallen on a weeknight this year. That meant most parties had occurred the previous weekend, and with the children having done their trick-or-treating, the festivities were essentially complete.
Hoof-steps. Jack, balancing on telephone lines again, glanced down at the Horseman, his jack-o-lantern the only one still lit this late.
Jack stepped off the wires, dropping down and floating silently beside the horse, now at a slow trot rather than the gallop from earlier.
"You don't usually stop by Burgess," Jack commented.
"Ah, I wanted to take a look at the place, see what the fuss was about," came the Horseman's echoing voice from the jack-o-lantern. "It doesn't seem like much. But there is something haunting about this town. It gives off an energy."
"Yeah?" Jack said. He hadn't noticed a particular energy about Burgess, but he was there all the time. Certain parts of town felt odd to fly through now that Rowan had died, but he figured that was more of his own mind's doing than an actual quality of the place.
"Oh yes," said the Horseman. "Old magic, new magic, lost souls. You being one of the spirits that haunt this town, it makes sense that you do not feel your own presence."
"I don't know that I would say I'm haunting it," Jack said, making a face, though his earlier game with the Ouija board probably begged to differ.
"Ah, yes, not everyone likes the term," said the Horseman. "But how else would you describe a fixation on the place you lost your life? The place you suffered great loss?"
"Hm," Jack said, having never put it in that context before. Even before he knew the extent of his mortal life in Burgess, it was still the town he came back to over and over. The town felt like an obvious choice when he finally got a home base.
"I haunt Sleepy Hollow," the Horseman continued.
"I guess I just always associate haunting with being unable to leave the place at all after death," Jack said. "I do leave sometimes. You obviously leave Sleepy Hollow."
"Physically we can leave, sure," the Horseman said, propping the jack-o-lantern in front of him on the saddle to give his arm a rest. "But part of us will always be stuck in these places, wouldn't you say?"
"Yeah, that's fair," Jack said. "Kinda sad, isn't it?"
"Sentimental. I like having a constant among all the change. Even if it's just a memory, a feeling, an idea of a place that exists only in stories and legends."
Jack nodded. "It all comes back to stories, doesn't it?"
"I suppose so."
They continued in silence for a bit. The horse kept walking, breath fogging before its nostrils as it went.
"Can I ask you something?" Jack said after a beat.
"I suppose it depends on what you ask," said the Horseman.
"Everyone calls you 'the Horseman.' What's your name?"
An echoed chuckle. "Jack."
"What?" said Jack.
"No. My name is also Jack," the Horseman clarified.
"Oh," Jack said. He grinned. "You know, I was once told that you can't trust anyone named Jack."
Another chuckle. "We do seem to cause trouble."
"Yeah, I was pretty offended at the time, but in hindsight…"
"Perhaps it is for the best that I am known to most by my title," the Horseman remarked.
"Would you prefer they knew your name?"
"I am fine being known as 'the Horseman.'" He shrugged, and Jack nearly missed it, having been watching the jack-o-lantern for most of the discussion.
They passed the cemetery gates, horseshoes hitting snow-covered gravel.
"Ah," said the Horseman, "My kind of crowd."
The cemetery was understandably quiet, still, and calm now. Snow settled on headstones, on wilting flowers, beginning to hide the offerings for the dead. The girls with the Ouija board were long since gone.
For now, it was just Jack, the Horseman, and the horse.
They neared Rowan's grave and Jack expected the Horseman to keep going, but he pulled at the reins, indicating that his horse should stop.
"Hold this, will you?" The Horseman said, handing Jack his jack-o-lantern as he dismounted his horse. He took the jack-o-lantern back once his feet were on the ground. "Thank you."
"I didn't expect you to visit her," Jack said, glancing between the Horseman and the headstone.
"She was very kind," said the Horseman, kneeling down near the candles and flowers that had been left for Rowan. He set down his jack-o-lantern, opening the top and reaching in for the lit candle.
Carefully, with one hand blocking the falling snow, he lit the candles by her grave before returning his candle to the jack-o-lantern. "There."
The flames flickered, but didn't go out, the light reflecting on the polished stone.
"She would be thrilled you remembered her," Jack said. It was impossible not to think of Rowan whenever he saw the Horseman. The doll on display in her apartment, her excitement upon seeing him at the ball, he was definitely one of her favorites.
Jack wished he could ask Rowan what it was specifically that made The Legend of Sleepy Hollow a story that intrigued her so much. Her fascination with Peter Pan, at least, needed no explanation as far as Jack was concerned. But as the Horseman stood upright again, holding his jack-o-lantern which was tilted to properly see the grave, Jack supposed the specifics didn't matter.
She simply loved stories. It was nice to know that the stories loved her back.
"You are kind to say so," said the Horseman. "And I know I am quite late by now, but you have my condolences."
"Thanks," said Jack, unsure of what else to say. He still didn't know what the proper response to the sympathy of others was.
"Not long until her anniversary," the Horseman said, gesturing to the date of death etched into the stone. "I hope you get the answer you are hoping for."
"I'm not sure what I'm hoping for," Jack confessed.
"Well then. May the answer you receive give you peace," said the Horseman.
"Thank you," said Jack. "And, look, I know I've inconvenienced your holiday a lot, I promise it's not personal."
Now, interfering with Easter, several times that had been personal.
Bunny was so amusing to irritate.
"I know that you do not set the weather patterns," said the Horseman. "I suppose sometimes it is just easier to get angry with you. Particularly when the alternative is getting angry with Emily."
Jack laughed a bit. "Yeah, she's… intense."
"Quite. May I burden you with holding this once more?"
Jack took the jack-o-lantern and the Horseman mounted his horse again. Once he was settled in the saddle, Jack gave the gourd back.
"Thank you," said the Horseman, repositioning the jack-o-lantern in one hand and the reins in the other. "I should be taking my leave. I like to end my rounds back home, and we have but precious moments left of All Hallows' Eve."
"Thanks for stopping by," Jack said.
"Happy haunting, Jack," said the Horseman.
"Happy haunting, Jack," Jack said, offering the other spirit a salute. The horse was off in the next instant, galloping through the graveyard toward some trees.
They entered the shadows and, in an instant, disappeared.