Royce wrapped a blanket around Joey's shoulders. Both were a little saddened by the hesitancy of the move.

"Tell me again what happened." Dennis paced nervously in front of Royce and Joey, who sat on the edge of her self-appointed bed.

Joey recounted the event, skillfully leaving out the part with Royce's death.

Denny groaned and again paced, his hands waving hysterically. "I can't believe this is happening. What could he possibly want?"

"He wants me to bring him back too." Joey stood, taking the blanket with her. "He was just a slime ball before he bought it, but bringing him back now with his new knowledge of the dead – he'd be like Cyrus, only this time he might succeed."

"No one's asking you to bring him back, Joey." Denny had stopped again and was now standing before his sister. "I'm just worried about this."

"I told you it would happen."

"Yeah, but deep down inside I've always wished your visions were bogus." He put a hand on her shoulder. "No luck there, I guess."

Joey smirked, then her face twisted into a giant yawn.

"You should probably get some sleep." Dennis motioned her back to the bed. "Maybe I should stay here for the day, just in case."

"Royce'll stay," Joey said through another yawn. She knew it took all her brother's will not to glare at the other ghost. "You don't have that kind of energy. He's had 50 years of practice."

Denny wasn't going to argue with her reasoning. With a defeated look, he disappeared through the glass door. As she had promised, Joey produced a black marker and set to work copying a barrier spell onto the blank panel. She wasn't sure exactly what she was writing; she only hoped it would do the job.

Turning back around, she noticed Royce still sitting on the bed. He stared blankly at the floor between his feet. Joey sat down to his right, deliberately avoiding eye-contact with him. She didn't want to disturb whatever he was thinking.

After a few moments, she couldn't take the awkward silence anymore. She looked at him and was overcome with an urge to touch him. She did, softly moving her fingers over the scars.

"I felt everything," she said. "How thrilled you were to win the drag race, how scared you were when you couldn't brake, when your heart stopped..."

Joey was surprised to see Royce take a deep, shuddering breath, as if on the verge of sobbing. "I'm sorry I did that to you. It's bad enough it happened to me, I shouldn't have put you through it, too."

"It's not your fault, Royce." She moved her hand to his shoulder. "I don't know how Moss learned those spells, but he made you do it."

"But that's just it," Royce said turning to her. "If I don't know when he'll take control I shouldn't be around you. I don't want to hurt you again."

Royce realized then that he was cupping Joey's face in his hands. He looked down at her, thankful he didn't have to breath, because the way she looked at him would have done the job. Her lower lip tremble as she stubbornly held back tears.

The slow movement of her fingers wrapping around his wrists sent a ripple through his mind. He saw her curled up at her parents' grave. Tears gushed from her eyes and her body was wracked with sobs.

Royce's hands left her face, but she still held them. Then, barely louder than a whisper, she said "It'll hurt worse if you go."

They stared at each other for a few seconds, neither sure of what to do next. Then Joey turned away and stood up, as if finally coming to a decision.

"I'm going to take a shower." She glanced over her shoulder at Royce. "Will you be here when I get back?"

"Of course."

Joey gathered some clean clothes from her pack and disappeared into the bathroom. Royce decided to lay on the bed as he heard the faucets turn on. His head struck to pillow lightly and he marveled at how long it had been since he'd last done that. He felt like it was a good time to let the world phase out around him, instead of the other way around like usual.

He thought seriously for sometime about going into the bathroom, throwing the curtain back, and making love to Joey in the shower. He could imagine the feel of water trickling down his back as he held her naked in his arms. Royce couldn't delude himself for too long, though. He was dead and knew things wouldn't work out quite right.

But he figured it wasn't really about him getting anything out of it. It was about giving something to Joey; making her feel something besides sorrow. When he realized that, Royce vowed that if this plan worked, and he was alive again, he would find a way to keep Joey safe and happy, no matter what it took.

Royce was so wrapped up in his own world, he didn't hear the shower turn off or Joey coming out of the bathroom. So, when he felt something touch his shoulder, he nearly jumped off the bed. He looked up to see Joey leaning over him slightly, holding back a fit of giggles

"I didn't know ghosts could get scared."

"Not scared," Royce huffed. "Just startled."

Joey pulled the covers back and they moved through Royce like he was air. He watched as she settled on the sheets to his left. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt and her hair was down. He bit his lower lip while she wasn't looking.

Royce folded his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. The room Joey chose was one of the few left intact after the explosion of the Ocularis. The darkness of extremely early morning seeped into the glass room.

"How do you sleep in here during the day," Royce asked as she began shimmying under the covers.

"The trees shade a lot of light on the morning and late afternoon. I don't know about the rest of the time. I've never been much of a sleeper, but something about this house just drains me."

"Yeah," he replied. She turned off the light as he continued. "I know how it feels."

He felt her shift closer to him, laying her head on his arm. It took him a second to realize she was curling up close to him.

"I'm not warm," Royce said absently.

"It doesn't matter," was Joey's tired response.

With that, the ghost wrapped his arm around her shoulder and let her fall asleep.