Author's notes: New chapter's up, not many left now. A bit sad I reckon. Well, anyway. Warning for a bit of romance in this one. Thanks so much for the reviews. Enjoy!


Part V

When Kat woke up the next morning, she felt terrible, and she didn't remember what'd happened last night. But slowly the memories came back, even though they were very blurry. One thing she remembered very clearly though. Her talk with Stretch, and what he'd said about looking after Casper. That was the first time she'd ever seen Stretch serious.

Kat slowly sat up in her bed, and she noticed that she was fully dressed and covered in a blanket. She put her feet on the floor and hesitately tried to stand up. Her head immediately began to spin, and she clutched the edge of her night stand. When the spinning stopped she slowly walked towards her bathroom, leaning against the wall. Inside the bathroom she lent against the basin and let the cold water run from the taps. She splashed water in her face and then looked into the mirror.

"Honey, you look terrible." she said to her reflection.

And terrible was only the beginning of it. Her eyes were red after the crying in the bar last night, and they had dark circles under them. Her cheeks were striped with mascara after her tears. Her hair was a mess, untidy and dirty, and her clothes were wrinkled after she had slept in them.

Kat slowly made her way back to the bed and laid down. She was seriously considering never to leave this room again.


A few hours later she was woken by a hard knock on the door, quickly followed by her father's voice. "Kat, honey, are you awake?"

"No." Kat murmured and put a pillow over her head.

The door was opened and her father entered carrying a tray. He put it down on her night stand, sat down on the edge of her bed and removed the pillow from her head.

"The trio said that you'd probably be a mess after what happened last night." He hesitated. "What happened?"

The smell of the food her dad had brought made Kat hesitate to open her mouth.

"I might have had a few too many drinks." she squeezed out.

"By the looks of it, I'd say you've had a few too many bottles." He gently stroke her hair. "Haven't I always said that drinking's no good?"

Stupid question, Kat thought and turned her head away from the disgusting smell of food.

"I guess you don't want this then." Kat felt her father kiss her hair, rise from the bed and pick up the tray. "I'll check on you in the afternoon." he said and closed the door after him.


Kat was lying on her bed, one arm tucked under her head, and yet it wasn't her. She was much younger. It was not her voice of today coming over her lips when she spoke to someone she, at the moment, did not see.

"I wonder why you don't remember."

"Mm." Casper floated down and laid down beside her on the bed. "Maybe because, when you're a ghost , life doesn't matter that much anymore, so you forget."

Kat was silent for a moment. "Sometimes I'm afraid I start to forget."

Casper started and looked at her. "Forget what?"

Kat shrugged her shoulders. "My mum." Casper was silent, waiting for her to continue. "Just some things. The sounds from the kitchen when she made breakfast. The way she painted her lips, so carefully." Kat smiled. "But I do remember. She always used Ivory-soap. And when she held me, I breathed in deep, of her scent. And I remember, before I'd go to sleep, she would whisper: 'Stary eyes, rosy cheeks, and a happy girl tomorrow'." Kat removed her arm from under her head and frowned her brow. "Casper?" He'd floated up towards the ceiling, but now he came back down again. "If my mum's a ghost, has she forgotten about me then?"

"No." Casper shoke his head. "She would never forget you."

Kat felt her eyelids grow heavier, and she barely listened when Casper spoke again.

"Kat?"

"Mhm." she breathed.

"If...if I was alive, would you go to the Halloween-party with me then?"

"Mm."

She felt him lean closer to her. "Kat?"

"Mm."

"Can I keep you?" he whispered.

"Mhm."

She heared him sigh, and then a chill wind swept over her cheek.

"Casper, close the window, I'm cold."


Kat slowly woke up, in the same house, the same room, the same bed, as in her dream. But without Casper.

The dream had been real. It had actually happened, once, many years ago. It was a memory, long since forgetten. An event never even remembered before this.

Now, Kat remembered every word spoken, even some of the things she'd thought. And she realized that it hadn't been a chill breeze sweeping from an open window. It had been Casper kissing her cheek.

Kat buried her face in her pillow and sobbed silently. Cried over the lost soul that Casper was. Cried over the friend she'd lost, and never realized she had. And she cried over the feelings she, up untill now, hadn't wanted to know. Feelings of love. For a ghost.


The trio were sitting in the library. Well, sitting wasn't exactly the right word. Stretch was hovering in front of the windows, gazing unseeingly out into the darkness. Fatso was lying on the desk, eating snacks, that passed out through his back and landed on a pile of books. Stinkie was hanging upside down from the balcony of the second floor, arms folded, humming dark tunes to himself.

They'd spent all day looking for Casper in every possible place they could think of. His room in the attic, the attic itself, the kitchen, Kat's, previously Casper's, bedroom (very silently, as not to wake Kat), the library, the lighthouse, the graveyard where his parents were buried. Even the laboratory, where he'd have been most likely to hide, but no. Casper was nowhere to be found.

This shouldn't have worried them. He'd managed to stay hidden for so many years, so why should this one day be an exception? But it did worry them, and for one reason. Stinkie was the one to say it out loud.

"What if he's just...you know...passed on...?"

The others kept their silence for a moment before Stretch said: "He can't have. He was too young when he died, had too many things unsolved. Is anything right now telling you that those things would be solved?"

"Besides," Fatso added, flying over to a chair and sitting down. "if he'd passed on, wouldn't we had too? I mean, wouldn't our unsolved business have been cleared out then?"

"I suppose so..." Stretch said, still looking out the window. "But where the devil is he then?"

They fell silent once more, and after a while, Stinkie hesitatly said: "Do you remember, guys?"

The others looked at him, started.

"How it was to live." Stinkie continued, letting go of the balcony and floating down to sit on the desk.

Fatso dropped his bag of snacks on the floor, but didn't seem to notice. He stared at a spot just above Stinkie's head.

"Sometimes I can get flashbacks." he said. "I can remember certain times when I felt really happy or really sad." A smile suddenly lit his transparent face. "Like that one time down by the lake, when we taught Casper how to swim."

Stinkie also smiled. He remembered that, now that Fatso talked about it. Casper couldn't have been more than four, perhaps five. So eager to get into the water that he'd fallen of the bridge and Stretch'd had to dive in after him. Elisabeth, sitting on a blanket on the shore, had almost had a heart attack.

"One thing I remember very clearly's their wedding." Stinkie said. He glanced over at Stretch, who usually didn't like talking about their lifes. It's our past, he used to say. We can't do anything about it, so why talk about it? But now he was silent, his back towards them, the dark outside the windows visible through him.

Stinkie continued talking, getting lost in the memory.


Karl had been really nervous, not standing still for a second. He hadn't been able to choose one best man between his brothers, and when they'd all been standing by the altar, waiting for Elisabeth, he'd turned to Stretch.

"What if she changes her mind?"

Stretch'd smiled, patting his older brother's shoulder.

"We've been through this before today, Karl. She won't. She loves you. And if she didn't, her father's paid a fortune for this wedding. She wouldn't dare to run away."

The others had laughed, and Karl had smiled nervously.

Finally, the doors at the back of the church had been opened, and Elisabeth had entered at her father's arm. Stinkie'd heared Karl draw a deep breath at the sight of her. And what a sight it had been. Stinkie'd seen many beautiful women in his life, but Elisabeth had outdone them by far. He had never considered her a beauty, but today, with her eyes shining from happiness and love, she had been nothing but glowing. If any of the three had ever hesitated in letting her marry their older brother, their doubt had vanished in that moment, and they'd never regretted it. As the years'd passed, they'd come to adour Lissie, as they'd called her. She'd become their ideal woman, whose match was rarely, and in their cases never, found.


Stinkie fell silent and looked over at Stretch, who hadn't said a singel word and was still standing with his back towards them. There was something Stinkie wanted to ask him, but dared he?

"Stretch?" he asked hesitatly. Stretch didn't move a nerve, but somehow Stinkie knew that he was listening. "Did you love Lissie?"

Stretch was quiet for so long that Stretch almost thought he hadn't heared. But then he spoke in a low, but still very clear voice.

"Lissie was my everything. She was the sun in my sky, the light of my life. She was the one who made me smile, and the reason I got up in the mornings. When she spoke to me I could hardly answer. When she smiled at me I thought I'd died and gone to Heaven. When she died, I wanted to die too. I loved Lissie beyond all rhyme and reason, but she was my brother's wife." He shrugged his shoulders. "I wasn't in love with her when they got married, not even when Casper was born. But one day, in June I think, when she and I were sitting down by the lake, and she was holding Casper, the sun shining in her hair, her face glowing from happiness, I just knew. Knew that I loved he, knew that there would neve be another. And there never was. I never saw anyone but Lissie." His voice suddenly became harsh. "But I never touched her. Not once. And I never told her how I felt. She was married to my brother, they loved each other, and I would never have forgiven myself if I'd destroyed that."

After Stretch had finished talking, all three of them were quiet for a long time. Neither Stinkie nor Fatso knew what to say. They'd suspected this for many years, but never had the courage to ask.

Stretch broke the silence himself. "That's the story of my life, boys. Don't ask me why I told you, I assure you, it was not my intention." For the first time that evening, he turned around and faced them. "And I'd appreciate if we never talked about it again."

His brothers nodded, and with that, Stretch left the room.