WOW! Thank you so much for such positive feedback!!!! I like to write responses to everyone's reviews, and they should all be in order from oldest to newest.
mara-rabb: Yay! That's my first objective, to get someone hooked on this! Thank you so much for being my first reviewer!! *does happy dance*
jagchick105: Eeek! It's been forever! How are you?? Thanks for checking out my story! For a while there, I just didn't touch *any* of my stuff and I think I was getting depressed over it. But I'm back now with more motivation! Thank you for reviewing, I always look forward to yours because it's always so positive! Thanks!
winjin: Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter! And thank you for coming back for more!
anonymous: I hope this was updated soon enough! I usually like to let it run its course, let the new chapter stay on the first page until it's knocked to page two. Thank you for reading!
Chloe1: Thank you for your support! It means so much!
ArwenUndomiel: Thank you for reviewing! Hope you come back for more!
emokid: Ack! I'll try to write as fast as I can!!! Thank you for reading and reviewing!
shanabear: Ah, some of your questions shall be answered in this chappy! Thanks for reading and reviewing!
Cor: Yay! You're hooked! Goody! Thanks so much for being interested!
kiwi: Thanks for reading and reviewing! It means a lot, I'm so glad you like this! Ah! And you're lucky number 10 in the review list! THANK YOU, KIWI!!!!! *does happy dance*
sunchaser2: Thank you for your support and for reading!
Kulots: I'm glad you like it! Hope ya come back for more! Thanks!
pendray: Yay! Awesome! Good word! :D Thank you for reading and reviewing!
neenee: Thank you so much! Your review means a lot! Please come back for more!
beegirl: LoL, I was playing that scene throughout my head, going through dialogue, and I was thinking of something rebellious for Grace to say, and that just seemed to fit. I'm glad you liked it! Thank you so much for reviewing!!!
Pennethil: Well, I'm supposed to be taking Italian this year, so I am very excited. My pen name is actually Latin, which of course Italian is derived from. Good luck with that course! Yeah, see, I wanted Harm to be the JAG, and with Harm and Mac married, they wouldn't be aloud to serve in the same chain of command. So that's just how it played out! I'm not sure how I'll be able to bring in the other characters as their older selves. Perhaps at the end of the story. We'll see! Anywho, thank you so much for reading and reviewing!
Hazel: Yay! I'm glad you like it! Aw, no, I'm sorry! Well, I don't suggest doing what Grace has :D. Thanks for reading and reviewing!
DD2: *jumps up and down* I love enthusiasm! Thank you for your support!!!!
Pissed Off Poet1: Thank you for reviewing! (btw, luv your pen name ;)
Deb: Thank you for reading! Ah! And you're lucky number 20 in the review list!!! THANK YOU, DEB!!!!!!!!! *does happy dance*
jagfan42: LOL, don't I know it, jagfan! I *am* a kid! I'm fifteen, and as far as little kids go, I've had my share of babysitting adventures to know how they act, lol. Thank you so much for reading and telling what you think! Your support means a lot!
Valerie Jones: Thank you for reading! The rest you shall see!!!!
WhenDovesCry4: LoL, I always imagine Mac and Harm with a...good sized little family....if that makes sense, lol. Thank you for reading!
Mary Kate113: Thank you! I love the name Gracie, and it just seemed to fit. Ohh, my, well, in the next two chapters, Grace's life will change quite a lot...thank for reading and reviewing!!
CharmedMummy: LoL, I really didn't even think this was going to be a long story until a certain idea sorta popped into my head. If I do do it right, hopefully you'll enjoy it! Omg, to tell the truth, lol, I had a picture in my head of what a pergola was, I just didn't know what it was called, so I asked my mom who has a knowledge of all things garden-like. Okay, it's usually made out of wood, and has a criss-cross pattern. Looks sorta like a gate, only you put it on the side of the house, and basically, it's just there for plants with vines, so they can climb up it. It's also useful for humans to climb when escaping the tortures of home :D. I hope I explained that well enough!!! As far as Webb's wife...we'll get to that later 8^) Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!
maggie: Oh, thank you so much for reading and reviewing! Your support means so much!!!
Now, on with the story!!
Chapter 2: Insanity Plea
0200 ZULU
Campus Fraternity House #6
Seven Miles Outside of Georgetown
Clay gave Grace a once-over as they approached the frat house through its spacious front yard. He eyed her sweater-jacket that was over her tank top and the simple flare-bottomed blue jeans. The girl finally stopped in her tracks and threw her hands in the air.
"What?"
Clay shook his head. "I can't believe you didn't dress up as anything. I thought you were going to be my lady vampire." He said, disappointed as he looked over his own costume.
Grace rolled her eyes. "Look, I can't drive, and there aren't any costume stores near my house."
He sighed. "Yeah, well, thanks for telling me, cause, you know, I could've just done what you did," Clay spat, "and come as an angry, stuck-up, PMS-driven, spoiled little teenage girl who doesn't appreciate anything or anyone!"
"Oh, would you just shut it with the sarcasm, Clay?!" Grace hissed. She then tried to avoid the curious glances from a couple that passed them.
"Who says I was being sarcastic?" Clay retorted, a smug grin on his features. He then held out a pair of plastic fangs.
"Grace!"
She turned her head towards the sound of her name, and saw a rather tall guy standing on the front porch wearing a werewolf mask. Ben took the mask off and smiled warmly at Grace, giving a little wave.
"Hey, Ben." Grace replied, ignoring Clay's stare that burrowed through her.
"I was starting to get worried that you wouldn't show up at all."
Grace grinned. "You know I wouldn't miss this."
***
0230 ZULU
Grace grumbled to herself as she vigorously rubbed at the beer stain on her sweater. Clay stood next to her, leaning on the doorframe of the bathroom, his brow furrowed as he watched.
"You're never going to get that stain out. Why don't you just leave the sweater here?"
Feeling a surge of frustration, Grace wadded up the wet paper towel and threw it at Clay. He jumped back as it bounced off his chest.
"Tsk, tsk...temper, temper." He said with an annoying wave of his finger.
Grace ripped another paper towel from the roll and put it under the faucet when Ben suddenly appeared in the doorway. Grace ignored him.
"I'm, uh, I'm real sorry about that, Grace. Tom can get a little...rambunctious when he's had one too many."
Finally giving up, Grace turned off the faucet and threw the sweater at Ben. "It wouldn't have happened if there wasn't beer being served." She mumbled angrily as she brushed past Ben into the hallway, Clay following close behind.
The central of the party was downstairs in the living room. The music was deafening, and the bass pounded in Grace's ears. But the other kids didn't seem to be bothered by it, and they danced energetically. Leaning on the open banister, Grace watched them. Some had fallen into a drunken stupor and simply stumbled about the dance floor, the only thing holding them up was the fact that everyone was packed like sardines, and if you didn't keep moving, you'd be trampled over.
Ben and Clay joined her at the banister, one on either side of her. Grace looked over at Ben curiously. Most of her freshman and sophomore year, Grace had spent trying to be noticed by Ben. She thought he was perfect. The way he did his hair, with just enough gel, and small blonde highlights to give more color to his brown hair. His strong chin, perfect teeth. He had more a goofy smile than a handsome one. But it was carefree and Grace liked it anyway. And his eyes, a sea green. Grace always melted at the sight of them.
Ben must have felt her stare and he partly turned his head toward her make sure. Grace quickly looked away, but she could almost feel his smile.
Grace then looked over at Clay, who seemed to be mesmerized at the moment by the dancers.
Even though the two of them had grown up together, they'd always bickered and were constantly on each other's nerves. But for some reason, during the hardest times of their lives, one was always there for the other. And their parents constantly joked that they'd fall in love some day, but both Grace and Clay repulsed at the idea. It wasn't that Clay was not attractive, or there was anything wrong with his personality. It was just that the two of them clashed and hardly ever agreed on anything. Well, anything except for the fact that Clay loved her smile. It was one of the features she gotten from her father. That smile had won her several double takes from passer-by-ers.
A loud giggle erupted from behind them and a body squeezed itself between Ben and Grace. After figuring out who it was, Grace rolled her eyes and she and Clay moved over.
"Hey, Mandy, what's up?" Ben asked, putting on his charm by flashing a smile.
Mandy, or the 18th century mistress that she was dressed up as, leaned her back against the banister, resting her elbows on it so that she was facing Ben.
"Great party, booze was a nice touch." She said, her voice bubbly. Grace suddenly wished she had a camera to take a picture of the most popular girl in school making a fool of herself.
Ben shrugged. "It wasn't my idea, but thanks."
"So, are we still on for tonight?" Mandy asked, a hint of trouble dripping from her tone.
Ben glanced over at Grace, who narrowed her eyes in confusion. "On for what?" She asked.
Mandy turned to Grace, her face twisted in excitement. "A couple of us were going to the old Dupree Mansion. Wanna come?"
Grace looked over at Clay, and his eyes were large with fright. But Grace was still confused. "Dupree Mansion?"
"Yeah, a few miles west of here," Ben said, "Just an abandoned house from the Civil War."
Mandy scoffed. "It's more than that...it's haunted." She added, putting her hands up and shaking her fingers.
Grace raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Right." She said dryly.
Mandy straightened her spine and put her hands on her hips. "What, Rabb, you don't believe in ghosts?"
"I believe in tangible evidence, Mandy. The whole, if-I-can-see-it-and-I-can-touch-it, deal."
"Well, then you wouldn't mind spending an hour inside the house?" Mandy dared, taking a swig from the cup in her hand.
Ben, Mandy, and Clay had their eyes on Grace, waiting for her answer. Grace looked at each of them. This was her chance. Probably her only chance to prove herself worthy. And she really didn't believe in ghosts. So she would spend an hour in a spooky house, so what? It would be better than spending another two years being completely ignored.
A grin started to spread across Ben's face as he studied the assurance in Grace's features.
"All right. You have yourself a deal. But as long as I'm home by eleven."
Mandy stuck up her chin. "Not a problem."
***
Grace thought this house was more than a couple miles outside of town. They were now in the country, and fields of yellowed corn and low bushes of soybeans flew by the car windows. The air had gotten deathly chilly, and Ben had provided her with a jean jacket. But she could still feel the cold in her bones.
Mandy suddenly slapped the dashboard, cursing at it. "I thought you fixed this heater, Ben." She whined.
Ben shrugged, but didn't take his eyes off the road. "I thought I did too. Maybe if you didn't hit it all the time..."
Mandy scowled and slouched back in the seat. The car was quiet for a while until Clay finally spoke up.
"So, I've heard of the Dupree Mansion, but what's the story?"
Mandy grinned and turned around in the seat to face Clay and Grace. "You really wanna hear the story?"
"Well, gotta know what's haunting us." Grace murmured sarcastically as she stared out the window of the Oldsmobile.
Mandy put her chin next to the headrest of her seat and began the story. "Colonel Henry Dupree owned the estate with his family, his wife and two daughters. In 1861, when the Civil War broke out, Dupree was called to duty, and served for the entire four years that the war lasted. Then in 1865, when he finally was able to come home, people say he went insane. At first, he just did weird things, like walk around the outside of the house in the middle of night. And sometimes, the daughters would wake up to see him standing in their room, screaming at the wall. He even tried to strangle a servant once, accusing him of being a Yankee spy. Anyway, a few months went by, and on All Hallows Eve of 1866, he just blew it. He took a pitchfork from the shed and murdered his wife, his daughters, and all the servants. When he was done, he climbed up to his roof, three floors up, and did a swan dive into the front yard."
Being so riveted by the story, Grace didn't even notice that Clay had taken her hand and was squeezing it. She looked over at him, and he immediately let go. Mandy continued.
"Only one family's lived in the house since. They moved in around the 1950's. They only lasted a week." Mandy put emphasis on the five words.
"What made them move away?" Grace asked.
Mandy slowly shifted her glance to the girl. "I didn't say they moved away. Another week went by, and a concerned friend came over because they'd been trying to contact this family, but got no answer. When this guy went into the house, there wasn't anyone there. But all the belongings, unopened boxes, the food in fridge...it was all still there...the family had vanished." Mandy grinned, and turned back around in her seat to the let the two sophomores roll the story around in their heads.
***
The tires of the Oldsmobile crunched over the gravel as it made the ascent up the driveway. Grace rolled down the window and stuck her head out to get a glimpse of the bulky shadow up ahead. Meanwhile, Ben and Mandy exchanged smiles. Clay slumped low in his seat, and he seemed to be concentrating heavily on his breathing. Grace narrowed her brown eyes as the house came closer. It was huge. Tall, stone pillars lined the front patio and supported the roof, three floors up. Vines had grown over and wrapped themselves around the white pillars. Windows, some broken, were abundant, and during the day, the house probably received a lot of light. The entrance had two French style doors that five stone steps led up to. Colonel Dupree had obviously been a wealthy man.
Ben stopped the car a couple yards away from the house, and for the first time since they left the party, Grace noticed that the young man actually looked worried. Mandy also gulped, and a strange feeling of respect for this house had obviously come over her.
Grace cocked an eyebrow. "Have you ever been in there?" She asked.
Mandy turned around in the seat to face her. "I'm not afraid to admit I would never go in that house."
Grace was surprised at the girl's bluntness. "Oh."
Silence again came over the four teenagers, and Clay's heavy breathing was the only sound. After about a minute, Grace scowled and unbuckled her seat belt. "Let's get this over with."
Clay grabbed her arm as she opened the back door. "Wait!" All eyes were suddenly on him, "You—you shouldn't go in there alone. There might be some weird homeless guy or psychos in there. I'll go with you."
Clay's decision shocked her, to say the least. He usually wasn't this bold, or protective of her. He unbuckled his own seatbelt and got out of the car to prove himself.
"Okay..." Grace mumbled under her breath.
"Hold on a sec," Ben said as he got out of the car and handed them each a flashlight, "you'll need these."
Mandy rolled down her window and looked down at her watch. "You have an hour...have fun..." she added dryly.
Grace gave her a sidelong glance and then tested the flashlight. Clay did the same and then looked over at the front doors. "Ladies first." He said with a gesture of his arm.
Grace brushed past him and walked up the steps onto the wrap-around patio. Clay was so close to her when she got to the doors, she could feel his rapid breath on her neck. And she could almost swear she heard his heart beating. Pushing these thoughts out of her head, Grace put her hand on the rusted doorknob and turned it.
The door opened with a creak and a layer of dust fell onto the two. They coughed and waved the dust away as they entered the house. They each gave Ben and Mandy, who were now sitting on the hood of the car, one last look, and Clay closed the door.
The house groaned, as if telling them in its own language that they were not welcome. Grace swallowed and clicked on her flashlight, shining it around her. They were in the entrance hall, the floor was wooden, but a large, elaborately embroidered rug stretched throughout the whole room. A single small, rounded table was in the center. A glass vase sat on the middle of that with dead plants in it, limply hanging out of it. A staircase was on either side of the room leading up to an open banister with a hallway beyond that. The walls were a dark oak, and several paintings adorned them. Grace shown her flashlight on one, which was a portrait of a man in a 19th century military uniform, a woman, and two little girls.
Grace nodded at it. "That must have been the Dupree family."
Clay didn't reply and he simply stayed at her side. Grace, getting restless, shrugged, dropping her hands on her sides. "Well, what do you wanna do?"
Clay sighed. "Why don't we just sit at the door for the whole hour?"
Grace turned around, shining the light in her friend's face. Clay squinted and looked away. "And do what, Clay? Sing camp songs? I want to explore this place some." She stated, shifting the beam of the flashlight to the door on their left. "Lets go in there." Grace started to head for it when Clay grabbed her arm.
"It might not be safe. Who knows how stable this house is?"
Grace wrenched her arm away continuing towards the door. Clay followed reluctantly. They had found the kitchen, a rather large one, with counters along almost all four of the walls. An island was in the middle, where a cutting board, a knife, and a loaf of very old bread was still waiting to be cut. A small, round kitchen table rested near a nice size window facing the front yard. Five chairs were around that. Grace then spotted another door near the fifty's style fridge.
"Let's check that out." She suggested.
"Let's not." Clay mumbled.
Grace stopped. It probably led down to the basement. Grace hated basements. "All right, Clay, you win. Let's go back to the entrance hall."
"Ahh, finally getting a little shaken up, eh?" Clay said with a smirk.
Grace shined the flashlight in his eyes again, suddenly silently wishing to blind him. "You know I don't like basements. Come on."
Grace felt her confidence coming back and she strode swiftly back into the entrance hall and started up the staircase. Clay scoffed from below.
"Where do you think you're going?" Grace shuddered as she realized Clay sounded just like his own father when he was annoyed.
Grace ignored him and continues her ascent. "If you want to join me, I'll be up here—"
The first sickening crack made Grace's stomach do a flip-flop. She tried to make herself become as still as possible. But the beam on Clay's flashlight shook, and his breathing quickened.
"Grace...don't move."
She was afraid to say anything, breathe, or even blink.
Clay tried to keep his voice steady, for her sake, but it was no use. He knew his friend was in jeopardy and it frightened him to the bone. "I'm just going to leave you for a minute, Grace. I'm gonna get Ben and Mandy—"
Grace held her breath as the sound of splitting wood came out from under her. Then next thing she felt was her whole body falling and her visceral scream.
***
***
***
1216 ZULU
Dupree Home
Several Miles Outside of Georgetown, Virginia
The scene of her falling played out in Grace's head over and over. The sound of wood splitting, her scream, a thud, and darkness. Grace rubbed at her eyes, wiping the sandy sleep away. Her back was sore, and a bump on her head was flaming with pain. Grace opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, or the hole where the ceiling was. Sunlight poured over it and into the basement.
All the things that happened last night suddenly came to Grace, and she realized none of this made sense. What time was it? Shouldn't she be in a hospital? Where was Clay? Ben? Mandy?
Sitting up with a groan, Grace pushed some of the debris off and brushed the dust off her jeans.
"Clay?!" She choked out. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "CLAY?!"
No answer.
"Ben?! Mandy?!"
Nothing.
With a grunt, Grace stood, swaying a bit as the world around her fogged and swirled, but then became clear again. Putting her hands on her hips, Grace yelled out Clay's name again. But she knew she would get no answer.
Not believing the situation, Grace started to laugh and she put her head in her hands and just chuckled to herself. "They left me here," She said in between laughs, "The bastards left me!" Another realization hit Grace, "Mom and Dad are gonna kill me..."
Still feeling unsteady, Grace thought it was best to get out of this place and get a ride into town and possibly check into a hospital. Grace put a hand to her forehead, where the bump was, and felt dried blood.
"Beautiful," she mumbled, "At least I didn't get a concussion."
***
1330 ZULU
12900 Elk Lane
Georgetown, Virginia
Grace hopped out of the pickup truck. She tried to offer money to the old man, but he kindly rejected it, explaining having company for the trip was payment enough. He also suggested she clean up the bump on her head. After thanking him again, Grace started up the concrete path to her own home. But something wasn't right. Grace stopped midway and looked around the front yard.
Lawn gnomes? Mom hates lawn gnomes!
She then noticed the white station wagon in the driveway.
Whose car is that?
Grace shrugged it off, too tired and pained to give the situation too much thought. Grace then cautiously made her way up the wooden porch steps, also taking notice of the myriad amount of potted plants that were suddenly all over the place. Then, taking in a deep breath (and preparing for the worst of all reprimands in Rabb history), Grace knocked on the storm door. Slow footsteps were heard from inside, and the front door opened to reveal a stocky woman in her late fifties. Grace froze. Who was this woman and what was she doing in her house? The woman gave her an equally puzzled look.
"May I help you, young lady?" She asked, her eyes wandering over Grace, taking special notice to the wound on her forehead.
Grace wasn't sure what to say. This had to be a dream. She had to be in the hospital right now.
"Are you all right, dear?" The woman asked, her gray eyes narrowing behind her thick-rimmed spectacles.
Grace closed her mouth when she realized it was agape. "Um, no, I'm—I'm sorry to bother you. I'm looking for a friend's house. I thought this was it." Grace didn't really pay attention to what she was saying. The words just fell out of her mouth because it sounded like something normal. And normalcy was something she very much needed at the moment.
Once the situation was explained, the woman's frame relaxed a bit, and she smiled warmly. "Well, what's the house number?"
Grace didn't answer because she had turned around and started to walk away. The woman called for her, asking if she needed help, but Grace didn't hear her. Instead, she walked a ways down the sidewalk, a million different thoughts passing through her head. Finally feeling like her brain was going explode, Grace backed away from the sidewalk and leaned against the hood of a Camery. Something happened to her. Something happened to the world. All Grace's life, she'd been used to having answers. Everything could be explained. Evidence was always there, whether we saw it or not. And it comforted her. But now, nothing made sense, and the only possible conclusion that Grace could draw from the situation, seemed utterly impossible.
She felt like she was being stared at. Grace lifted up her head to see an attractive man in his late thirties, in business clothes with a suitcase in hand, staring at her, and then at the car.
"Do you mind?" He said smugly.
He reminded her of someone. "Mr. Bink?" She asked.
The man raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" He said slowly.
Grace almost choked. This was the old guy that yelled at her and her siblings whenever they stepped an inch into his yard? Grace licked her lips, deciding to ask the one question that she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to.
"What—what year is it?"
He blinked, and looked around the area, as if expecting someone to jump out and tell him he was on Candid Camera. After surveying his surroundings, his gaze fell back on Grace.
"It's 2002, kid."
***
TBC
***
WHEW, *tries to cool down keyboard*, I'm tired!!!!! Was that fast enough??? Usually, I like to post stuff on the weekends, cause that's when more ppl get the chance to be online, but I just couldn't wait to post this chapter. Thank you so much for reading! Mistakes? Suggestions? Go ahead and tell me!
~sancti