Disclaimer: Crimson Peak is Guillermo Del Toro's property, Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke, The Lodgers to Brian O'Malley. Emma, Constance and I are self-inserts. The old lady from Camden Market belongs to Chibimelodee.
Summary: Ghosts are real and everything happens for a reason. Is this why Marina and her friends find themselves trapped in Allerdale Hall a few days away from Christmas?
Author's note: This story was written for me by « Emma » and « Constance » from Chibimelodee as an Advent Calendar two years ago. Please note that all three of us are french and while we do know our way around English, we might still make some mistakes. Feel free to let us know! As the three girls are french and start to speak from this chapter, I'll put the translations of their sentences right next to them so you know what they say.
At the Candlelight
Chapter 12 : But together is what we'll be…
A gush of cold wind. The light snores of Emma. A warm soft blanket around my body. I don't want to wake up. I just want to return to sweet unconsciousness. But I just can't. I can't shake the feeling that I must be watched. Fear is creeping through my body and I shiver despite myself. I know I need to open my eyes but I dread what I could see.
Gathering what little bit of courage I have, I slowly open my eyes, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. A little chuckle resounds in the bedroom. Someone is definitively here. Someone who must not be here. A small clearing of throat makes me jump and I finally turn to face the intruder.
Thomas. It's just Thomas… Sweet Thomas with his beautiful blue eyes. Kind Thomas with his smile that melts my heart… Wait! What is Thomas doing here in the middle of the night? Why is he casually sitten in the large armchair near the bed?
« What are you doing here ? » The words come out of my mouth in a harsh whisper as I try to cover myself with the sheet.
« I missed you… » his voice is sweet like honey, dripping with honesty but still, I have to stay mad at him.
He decides to disappear in a hope to avoid answering my questions and then appears in the middle of the night as nothing had happened? If he thinks he's gonna get away with it, he's seriously mistaken.
« It's been 4 hours since we last saw each others » I try to reason him.
He can't just walk in here while we're asleep!
« Don't you think it's a little extreme ? » I ask « Just so you know, a normal guy doesn't play peeping Tom while the girl is sleeping. It's… creepy ! So, you gonna watch me all night ? »
« Yes ! »
I sigh at his honesty and he frowns, apparently not understanding what is wrong in this situation. A flash of guilt appears briefly in the blue of his eyes but he continues to maintain his posture.
« Don't you just love the feeling when you know it's wrong but you're gonna do it anyway ? »
« Yes, but when I think that it's wrong then… I don't do it ! It's more careful » I retorted.
Decidedly, he didn't seem to comprehend a thing. If he thinks that his good look and manners are going to soften me, well he is seriously mistaken.
«Especially at this hour of the night! »
« I thought women through the ages were all the same but… » he whispered, lost in his thoughts.
What is he talking about? Does he truly think he could win me by playing it like this?
« How many have you known ?" I ask, venom in my voice.
He winces at the sound of it but I continue nevertheless. I'm just too curious.
«Aside from me, who was your last true love ? Pamela ? What happened ? »
« Wasn't meant to be… And she is angry… Very angry… » his voice is so low I almost didn't hear him.
A warm feeling flows in my body, the streak of jealousy disappearing in a flash.
« Sorry… » I whispered back. he doesn't deserve my anger.
His eyes dive into mine and I find myself unable to breathe. How could his simple stare make me forget everything? At this moment, he is the only one that matters.
« It's alright. I understand, she had the right to be angry…" he continues and I had to remember who he is talking about… Pamela… Right. "And, she wasn't exactly my true love… Well, she clearly wasn't… It's complicated…"
"Thomas, who is Enola?" I ask him, a shiver making me shaking.
I can't shake away this bad feeling, picturing the worst… Why doesn't he want to talk about her? I hate to think that but Emma could be right… Could he be hiding something? What's under his smiles and beautiful words?
"It's not important!" he finally says, avoiding to look at me.
"Why?" I insist. If it's not important, he would have escaped earlier.
"Why what?" he sighs.
He really looks uncomfortable, embarrassed, wiggling on his chair like he is sitten on needles, playing with his collar as if it was suddenly too tight… Maybe should he loossen it a little ? Open a few of his shirt buttons ? He must be so handsome without his shirt… Yes, that's it !.. No, no ! Focus, Constance ! It's not because he looks so woeful that you have to start picturing him shirtless… How cute he is when he is woeful…
« Because it's… not important ! » the firmness of his voice contrasts with his eyes which implores me to not continue. « Only one woman is important… ».
Slowly, he outstretches his hand and his cold hands linger on my cheek, his touch as light as a feather.
"Stop doing this…" my voice sounds like a plea and he takes away his hand.
He is clearly confused but I just can't handle his touch while we're talking. I need to be able to think. I smile a little, realizing he clearly has no idea the effects he has on me.
"Constance" he whispered. "Please don't reject me… You don't know how long I've been waiting for you. There will never be another man who'll wait 100 years for you… Well, not one in such good condition. »
And he dares to smile… Sir thinks he is funny, maybe ! I feel anger rise in my chest. Who do you think he is ? Does he truly think he is my only option ? I only met him a few days ago and still, he thinks he…
« Well, I guess Dylan was wrong with his motto… « No pulse, no problem ! ».» It was only at this instant I realize I spoke in English during the whole conversation. I didn't babble, I didn't look for words… I just… spoke !
"And who pray tell is this Dylan ? » Now it's his time to be jealous. Bien fait!
"Wait a minute… Are you jealous ? You… I… We… I don't even know if all this is real!"
Tears began to roll down my cheek and I wipe them away angrily before pointing my finger at him :
"For your information, Dylan Dog is a paranormal investigator and he is fictional!"
« And Sam ? Is he fictional too ? » he whispers dryly.
So, he is jealous ! But why Sam ? Why does everyone think there's something between Sam and me ? Why would I pick Sam when I can have Thomas ? Well, okay, I still have some of his mysteries to figure out… and also being able to finish a conversation with him without being interrupted by Emma… If he could stop talking for a moment and get back to where we were… If he could kiss me…
« Constance, darling, whatever would happen, never doubt my feelings for you. I will do anything to be the man you deserve. I don't know how to explain it but you brought me back from the darkness where I was lost. I felt your presence and I fell in love with you ! I find myself thinking of you at the most… inopportune moments of the day…" he whispers, his eyes not daring to look at me.
For a moment, I could even swear he was blushing. I roll my eyes with a sigh, not believing he chose this moment of the night to declare his love. But, before he could speak again, I say with force :
"Words! Words! Words!
I'm so sick of words!
I get words all day through;
First from him, now from you!
Is that all you blighters can do?
Don't talk of stars burning above;
If you're in love,
Show me!
Tell me no dreams filled with desire.
If you're on fire,
Show me!
Here we are together in the middle of the night!
Don't talk of spring! Just hold me tight!
Anyone who's ever been in love'll tell you that
This is no time for a chat!
Haven't your lips
Longed for my touch?
Don't say how much,
Show me! Show me!
Don't talk of love lasting through time.
Make me no undying vow.
Show me now!"
I shiver, my anger now being repressed with a strong want of him. He looks at me with wide eyes and doesn't dare to move. His breathing is hard, just like mine and my eyes linger on his sinful lips. Blush warms his cheeks and he finally takes a step to meet me. Bending to come closer to me, I shiver as his cold breath meets my skin. But, before his lips would finally meet mine, I fell the mattress shift.
Emma is sitten next to me but has not removed her sleeping mask. Two huge reindeer eyes glare at us before she starts whispering threateningly : « Non mais, vous vous croyez où tous les deux ? »
(But where do you think you are, both of you?)
Thomas and I answer in sync : « In his bedroom ! »
« In my bedroom ! »
Emma doesn't seem to find it funny, especially when Thomas adds :
"And what are you, pray tell, seeming to be representing? A rabbit or a reindeer?"
Emma then screams : "Une fille qui devrait être en train de dormir à ce moment précis! Alors, maintenant, ça suffit ce bordel! Je voudrais dormir! Audrey Hepburn, on parlera demain de ta nouvelle aptitude à parler anglais et Sir-Thomas-Sharpe-Miss, FOUTEZ LE CAMP D'ICI ! Il y en a marre à la fin! Allez hanter une autre chambre, celle-ci est déjà prise! Sur ce, bonne nuit!" She lays down and turns her back on us.
(A girl who should be asleep at this very moment! So, now, this bullshit stops! I'd like to sleep! Audrey Hepburn, we're gonna talk about your newly found speaking english talent and Sir-Thomas-Sharpe-Miss, get out of here! That's really annoying now! Go haunt another bedroom, this one's taken, goodnight!)
"Qu'est-ce qui se passe?" Marina's faint voice resounds.
I'm quite sure she has awaken when my dear sister has screamed.
(What's going on?)
"Rien, juste Constance qui fait des papouilles à son amoureux… Rendors-toi!" Emma grunts.
(Nothing, just Constance being lovey-dovey with her lover. Go back to sleep!)
When I turn to face Thomas again, I face nothing. He has listened to her. He is gone. He has left me… Again… I really hate when he does that!
My back is killing me! Seriously, one could think such a big house would have decent beds but, hey… who am I kidding? We always have crappy beds. And to be honest, this one particularly sucks! Sure I could have gone away to another bedroom but, I already was on the closest one to the girls'. And if my job has taught me something, it's we have to stay close!
After checking my faithful gun, I start to go downstairs, my stomach growling loudly. Damn! Please, let it be something to eat for breakfast… I don't think I can manage to hunt with an empty stomach. Sharing my apple pie for dinner yesterday was kind of heartbreaking and I really don't want to relive this… Well, perhaps with the cute girl and not anyone else! So I really hope for these ghosts I have a decent meal or they would have an extremely angry hunter after them! Just like my prayer has been answered, I smell the delicious scent of bacon. Thanks Chuck!
I just follow the divine smell and find the most adorable picture I've ever witness. My girl – yes, as soon as our eyes have met, she has been "my" girl – is bent on the stove, a wooden spatula on hand, making sure the sweet bacon doesn't burn and strays crispy. She is humming a song I don't know, shaking her ass in rhythm. I can't fight a big smile off my face as I take some time to watch her back, silently studying her. She is wearing a silly rabbit nightsuit with a fluffy tail. I just think I'm lucky we're alone in the kitchen or else Sammy would be going on and on about it… But, what can I say? I'm a man after all!
Approaching her like a predator gets closer to its prey, I take small steps. It appears she is too caught up in her cooking to hear me… Good! I have to fight the urge to grab the tail that keeps swinging with every hip way she makes… Maybe later, when we'll know each other more… intimately. But right now, I just want to see her face… her eyes… her smile… to place her pink lock of hair behind her ear just to have the occasion of feeling her skin against mine…
What can I do to get her attention?... I surely can't say anything stupid, I don't want her to be a one-night stand or… What to say to not sound like a complete idiot? Come on! I'm usually a chick magnet so how come I find nothing to say? So, I blurt out the first thing on my mind, the damn song popping out of my head:
"Hey, Hey, Good Lookin', whatcha got cookin'
How's about cookin' somethin' up with me ..."
She turns out, her smile welcoming me as any other smile has ever done. She giggles and points her utensil on me, continuing the lyrics with an adorable blush on her cheeks:
Hey, sweet baby, don't you think maybe
We could find us a brand new recipe..."
Taking her hand, I make her turn and press myself on her back, dancing slowly as I hum the rest of the song. Bless Bobby and his Hank Williams' old audio tapes! She relaxes completely in my embrace, becoming putty on my hand. At this moment, I know I could mold her to my will. She's mine and I oddly feel happy to think I'm hers too…
A clearing of throat makes her jump away off my arms and I glare hard at the one who has dared to break our special moment… Sammy! He smiles slyly, his back pressed on the door frame. The jerk knows what he has just done and he's proud of it? Damn! I'm about to go and hit him when I see that – what's her name again? – Marina is standing next to him, looking awkwardly at her friend, certainly silently asking her some girly things. The featherhead dickhead is not far behind, watching the scene with incomprehension.
"Bitch!" I mumble to my dear brother and he starts to laugh, answering me with the usual "Jerk…" as we sit down at the old and clearly wrecked table. Marina is soon in deep discussion with Sammy and Lucky Charms. I don't pay attention to the topic of the discussion as my girl places a huge plate of some bacon and toast in front of me.
"The long-dead Baronet has only been kind enough to grace us with bacon and toast today." she says as her friend looks at her with questioning eyes. "But after all, because Constance only ate bacon yesterday morning…" Marina laughs and I stare at Emma.
"Wait, that son of a bitch made breakfast for you yesterday?" I ask and she nods shyly. "Then why didn't his majesty cook us dinner?"
"Maybe because you've hurt his feelings…" Sammy answers, winking at me. "After all, you did shoot him down!"
At this declaration, the mouthwatering sandwich I had prepared with the delicious bacon and toats fights away off my hand and I glare hard at my brother. "I think you pissed off my sandwich!" Emma starts to laugh and I have to keep focusing on my anger towards my brother to not drink on her mouth. Then, her sister appears and starts to laugh too. Catching her breath, she starts to sing, pointing at Emma:
"Ce matin un lapin a tué un chasseur
C'était un lapin qui
C'était un lapin qui
Ce matin un lapin a tué un chasseur
C'était un lapin qui avait un fusil »
Emma glares hard at her, which makes her sister laughs even more. What is going on here? What has she told? If only I had known, I would have taken French in High School. Seeing my distress, Lucky Charm shrugs and whispers:
"Don't worry, it's not really mean… It's just a song about a rabbit who kills a hunter…"
How pathetic ! The world has truly gone mad since my death… Are they really the next evolution of the human race ? How could it be possible that humanity has fallen so low ?
I must confess, these two are meant to be together. They are both stupid and mentally unstable. The girl with pink hair and the man who has shot his unwilling host. In my humble opinion, they should be sent into an asylum as fast as possible. I cannot believe his pitiful attempt of wooing has worked on her. Has he ever have a proper education ? Or are her expectations of men just low ? But maybe, nowadays it is customary… I just can wrap my head around it… Did I dream or has he truly want to catch her tail ? I can't say I'm fond of her but I must say I was about to intervene. No such thing should happen at my house ! Or anywhere else !
Are all the good manners gone ? A true gentleman should never speak when he eats but the proof of the contrary is playing just in front of my eyes ! And what about a lady being seen in her nightwear ? I can't suppress a smile as I try to picture Lucille with such guests… Her heart would have stopped at the mere presence of such rude Americans. Or she would have killed them on spot…
My latter thought sends a shiver down my spine and I shake my head, trying to chase away my fears. She can't hurt them. Not when I am here to protect them. To protect her…
She is there, laughing and chatting with her friend and her sister. Constance. Oh, how I want to call her « my » Constance but she is not… Not yet…
Lately, I've been wondering about you
And the things you do
I'm in love but you drive me mad
Be so sad to be losing you
Last night, when we had that fight
Then I see her talking to her friends
Acting like she just don't care
She has flare, and how she moves
With such grace, likes she own the space
She's so fine, she looks so cool
Got no time nobody's fool
I'm going to be, what she wants me to be
I'm her man, doing all I can
My girl, she's above the rest
My girl, she sure the best
Perhaps I should be more like this Dean and face things straight. Her words from last night still linger on my mind… She is fed up with words and wants proof of my affection. I should maybe stop hiding and show myself, interrupt this breakfast and place a ring on her finger…
The tall man doesn't take his eyes away from her, trying to understand what she is saying and gain her attention. He is openly ogling her and I feel my monster stir and come out of its lair, black, irrational, bigoted, stupid, evil, malevolent. Jealousy is eating me alive at this very moment. It is a physical pain as though I have swallowed acid or red hot coals. It is the most terrible feelings. I take a deep breath and remember I am jealous of him and his still-beating heart, jealous of the life and probably children he could give her, because I love her. Mother always told me you are never jealous of something you don't care about.
My eyes fall on her again and, blissfully, she is not even acknowledging him, still in deep conversation with the girl named Marina. A string of guilt pinches my heart as I remember how I had acted towards the woman. I should not have talked to her like that. She didn't deserve my anger. In fact, none of the women did. Just the four men currently sitting in my kitchen like they own the place.
I can't suppress a grin when I see the older one searches in the cabinets and takes the tea out. I swore to protect the women with all my power but, by all means, these intruders can poisoned themselves if they want to. Let them be my guests. As the old man prepares the hot beverage, I come closer to the table, still invisible.
He places the four still-intact china teacups I still have on the center of the table and pours the tea, smoke rising out of the old cups. Good… Good…
But the thing I didn't even consider happens. One of the ladies takes one. Marina. No ! She couldn't… She would not die under my watch ! I forbid it ! Breathing deeply, I slam away the cup before her lips touch the cup. She gasps and I realize that now, they all can see me.
« Son of a bitch ! » Dean mumbles, holding his hand, a piece of the china sticking in his hand, blood flowing on the floor. I smile apologizingly to Marina and my eyes drift to Constance. She stands still, her face as pale as Death. The tall man puts himself in front of her and takes his gun out. She screams.
Cold dread rushes through my veins and I know. She is near. She is coming. Lucille… She can't see me. She can't know I'm here…
Bolocks! I hate ghosts. It's a simple fact but it's true. I. Hate. Ghosts. And this idjit of an aristocrat who keeps appearing when he is not invited is seriously getting on my nerves. Luckily for the lad, he's gone before my fist can collide in his pale pretty face.
Speaking of his face, I'm pretty sure he had a scar yesterday. Right under his left eye. But now… nothing! Since when do ghosts heal? And, a much better question, since when black-and-white ghosts can find their colors back? I must admit he was my first black-and-white ghost but still…
And what to say 'bout the French girl who tries to protect him even if he is a BLOODY GHOST! No-one should have feelings for these creatures, especially when they're already dead!
"Bloody nuisance…" I mumble and, as expected, the crazy chick glares hard at me.
At least, Dean and the stupid angel have got pretty decent ones. Poor Sam… Why does he always have to pick the one with mental issues?
Sighing, I let myself fall on my chair and quickly grab my cup. I repress a snort when I see how Dean is playing the victim with his injured hand… That kid will definitively be the death of me.
The damn room we stand in is so cold and the warmth of my tea is inviting me. It's been a while since I drank tea but hey… I'm in England and tea is supposed to be the specialty, right? The hot beverage runs down my throat, its bitter taste overwhelming my mouth. Wasting no time, I spit the distasteful drink on the ground, the awful taste still firmly anchored on my tongue.
"That tea is shit!" I yell and every eye are on me. "That's it! I really don't like this place! I say, we get out and burn it to the ground, ghosts included!"
"No!" one of the chicks screams, outraged.
Yeah, right, the ghost lover again…
"I don't think this would solve the problem of the prophecy" the Irish lad sighs and I feel annoyance rise as he speaks. "For all we know, it could just accelerate the coming of Lucifer…"
I sigh and scowl on my chair, not happy what that. Did I mention I hate prophecies too? With haste, I get out the two flasks I keep on my jacket. I'm still thirsty but I won't drink anything that comes for this damn place again! Dean is looking at me with wide eyes so I hand him one of the two flasks :
"Here you go!"
"What is this?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. "Holy water?" He sniffs it with precaution.
«That one is. » I answer, raising the second one and then I point the one he has. « This is whiskey. »
His grin widens and I snort when I see the disgust face of the French chicks. I look at him drink a lot more than his usual gulp.
« Sorry Bobby… » he says, obviously trying to hide his grin. « It's empty. You must have a hole in it… »
'Cause my bucket's got a hole in it
Yeah, my bucket's got a hole in it
Yeah, my bucket's got a hole in it
I can't buy no beer
« Balls ! » I yell and I have to remember to keep my cool in front of the chicks. I breathe deeply, trying my best to relax. « Okay, everyone ! Time to search the bloody house… Pairs of two, one hunter – Yes Sean, you're part of the hunter – and one… girl. I'll stay here and wait for your report ! » When I see nobody moves, I start to scream : « I'm not getting any younger so chop, chop ! Off you go ! ». And finally, they're gone.