HI everyone! Sorry I haven't been good with keeping up lately. I meant to update Christmas but things got out of hand and this was a difficult chapter to write. Now that it's out of the way, I think it while be easier to write the next few chapters fairly quickly.
Since, I've been gone for so long, I've decided to announce a few projects related to this story. I'm in the process of writing several crossover stories with other fandoms for this universe of mine. They won't be canon to my main story, but they will be written as if they are. Think of them as a bunch of parallel universes that take place after Annalise's main story and you get to decide which one you believe is real. Of course that means, I have to finish this story before I publish them or else things won't make sense. Two crossovers are the most written. Supernatural and Undertale. Like I said, I can't publish the whole stories yet, but I might consider releasing the first chapters if there is enough interest. Though that might just make you mad if I can't post the rest.
So if your interested in seeing Anna cuss out Sam and Dean Winchester for shooting her (rating Teen for swearing and Dean jokes) while they freak about living Halloween decorations or Jack Skellington trying (and failing) to explain to Papyrus why he and so many monsters have human SOULS, drop a dime. Or PM. Or Review. I'm open to suggestions for other crossovers. Please avoid Anime unless you really think I can make it work. I'm already planning Little Nightmares, Five Nights at Freddy's, and Fran Bow.
Fun fact: Dean Winchester is apparently only nine months older than Annalise Grisholme. So they'd both be 38 right now if Anna wasn't dead. Chronologically I guess they still are. I didn't intentionally plan that, but it gives me fodder for a few good jokes. Oh God. Lol. I just pulled out a calculator to check something. That means Jillian and James are the same age as Sam. I swear I didn't plan this.
Also, Coco is an amazing movie!
If you haven't seen it and it's still in theaters, go now!
Chapter 33
Long Overdue
She didn't argue, even though it was a blatant lie.
Her house was closer than the church.
Her eyes glanced at the metal sign for her street as they literally walked passed it. The green painted aluminum glinted in the streetlights, sparkling under the frost like a…a…glitter barfed Halloween decoration, or a six-year-old's Valentine's Day card.
Anna rolled her eyes at herself as she added another Holiday themed example to her repertoire of ways to describe sparkly things. Ornaments. Glittering Christmas ornaments violently decorated by strippers on PCP or some other drug her father dealt with at work.
Eh.
Maybe forget that last part. "Drugs" and "Christmas" shouldn't be in the same sentence. Even in random abstract thought.
Maybe the witches weren't trying to be needlessly cruel, parading her by her old street to rub salt on a wound. But it really didn't matter what they were trying or not trying to do. The fact remained that it probably wasn't safe for her family to be anywhere near Anna at the moment. Her feelings about the matter didn't change facts.
"Hey, we just came from this way."
Anna almost didn't hear Lock's offhanded remark.
Helgamine cast a beady glance up the street, eyeing the toilet paper strewn trees. "I take it no one picked 'Treat'?" Her voice was carefully neutral, but her eyes betrayed desperation like she wasn't too keen on holding a conversation with Lock.
Anna was a little surprised that she even saw how uncomfortable the witches were. She thought herself too emotionally drained at the moment to gather the strength needed to notice the details of a monster's tone of voice.
If she didn't know better, she might have thought the witches had never spoken to the children. She didn't remember Helga and Zelda ever talking to the Treaters. But it was a little further than that.
Anna wasn't naïve. She listened to the comings and goings of customers in the witches' shop. She learned a lot about the town just by listening to monsters talk about their version of everyday stuff.
Those kids were somewhat abusive of the second chance at life they were given.
Anna had often overheard of their daily shenanigans from monsters coming in to buy a replacement object or mending spell or, in one unfortunate case, a new tongue.
Anna had long figured out that Lock, Shock, and Barrel had a warped sense of morality if it was there at all.
Which made her all the more concerned when Lock answered Helgamine's question.
"Ugh. Not a single one. TPing the trees were getting a little old. We had to get creative."
Anna tensed, hoping their 'creativity' wasn't directed at her family. She didn't say anything though. She knew they didn't know which house was hers. They shouldn't even know that this was her street. The witches may have known, but she wasn't about to give the pranksters such valuable information.
Helgamine eyed the boy. "I don't want to know the details."
"What makes you think I'd tell you, you old hag?"
The witches glared at him. Zeldabourne snapped her long fingers and Lock's mouth suddenly clamped shut.
He panicked for a moment and tried to swear at her, but could only make muffled noises. He glared at the old "hags."
Shock made her first sound since the demon attack, a small laugh. She immediately quieted and glared at the asphalt under their feet. Even she could hear the strain in her voice.
Lock didn't. He hit her on the side of her arm with his wrist and gestured at his mouth.
Shock smirked at him with narrowed eyes. "I'm not lifting it, you dummy. This is the longest I've gone without hearing you whine in ages!"
Lock looked even madder and made a grab at Shock's hair.
She whacked him with her broom and snarled at him with crooked teeth and murder in her eyes.
Anna couldn't help grinning as Lock backed down and crossed his arms, pouting.
It was awkwardly quiet as they walked until a small voice broke the air.
"So uh…" Barrel's voice was hesitant, and he held a vacant expression of a boy who just spent the last few minutes lost in his own thoughts. He probably wasn't paying attention to the little spat that just transpired. "Did anyone else…hear what the demon was saying?" His eyes darted up at Anna and just as quickly looked away in fear when he found her already looking at him.
The others glanced at him but didn't stop walking.
"What are you talking about?" Shock said, popping one of Barrels candies into her mouth. She rolled it around in her mouth, counting how many times she could flip it with her tongue to distract her from her hands that shook and teeth that chattered despite her not feeling the cold biting air. It was also to avoid saying anything else, lest her voice waver.
Lock frowned at Shock and Barrel, silently warning the other boy not to sound so wimpy.
"What that demon said," Lock growled, knowing what Barrel was talking about. He blinked in surprise that he could even speak and touched his lips.
"It said a lot of things," Zeldabourne said calmly, watching him. She wasn't willing to waste any more energy just to mute him with a spell, "It was a little busy writhing in pain to be coherent."
"Good job on that by the way," Helga mentioned.
"Thank you."
"The Grandfather thing!" Barrel interrupted, "What was it talking about? It said 'your Grandfather,'" he pointed at Anna's back, flinching when she straightened, though she didn't turn around again, "Not that I care…but…. I'm not stupid."
Lock had a "could have fooled me," caught on the tip of his tongue, but bit it back. He didn't want to admit it, but he was curious. "I heard it too…"
"I wasn't listening to it. You must have misheard," Zeldabourne said sternly. She took something out of her pocket and put it in her mouth.
Anna found it weird that the adults had candy on them too. Then again, how many times did she see one of the witches, or even Sally or Harlequin or the Mayor, offhandedly toss back a handful of candy while working?
She even caught Jack pulling candy out of his pockets when she saw him. He seemed to favor peppermints, while the witches liked candy corn and caramels, Helgamine and Zeldabourne respectively.
It made a ridiculous amount of sense that Halloween Monsters had a massive sweet-tooth.
"I did not!"
"I was too f-far away to hear," Shock added, immediately regretting it when her voice caught. It was a small slip up, the others probably didn't notice, and Shock wasn't about to admit she was still recovering from having stale air knocked out of her useless little lungs by a demon.
Anna stared straight ahead as Lock continued to stubbornly defend himself (and by extension, Barrel). She was silent the whole time, the adrenaline wearing off, or whatever counted as adrenaline for her spindly body. Now thoughts without fear were turning like gears as the only other emotion she thought herself capable of having at the moment wormed its way in like poison.
She had hoped none of them had heard the demon speak of her…grandfather.
"Are we going to meet Jack somewhere?" Anna spoke up, interrupting the small argument. Her voice was tight and short.
She glanced back at the brief silence.
Were they really so surprised to hear the anger in her voice after everything that's happened?
Helga answered when she caught Anna's gaze. "He'll meet us at the church."
"How will he know to go there?"
"Zero."
Anna looked above everyone's heads.
Zero did a cute little flip in the air, a smile in his eyes as they met hers.
"Oh," she said, almost through her teeth. She immediately regretted it when Zero's expression fell. She wasn't angry with him of all creatures! She hurriedly smiled sheepishly at the sweetie, hoping he saw that she didn't mean to snap at him.
"…Anna," Zeldabourne said after a moment of thought.
The skeleton smile disappeared, and she looked forward with a flash of a scowl. She kept walking, her hair making a dry swish in the frigid air. Her sockets flashed upward as a looming steeple came into view around a street corner.
"…Anna, don't just ignore us," Helgamine said, patting Zeldabourne's arm to keep the other witch from snapping at Anna's attitude.
"Well, what else can I do?" Anna said with a forced laugh. She threw her arms open, "I'm obviously not in control of anything whatsoever." She said it without raising her voice too much, but the sarcasm was almost tangible.
"Someone get the popcorn," Shock whispered, the boys giggling with her.
Anna glared at Shock, only to notice the young witch was limping. She didn't seem in pain, so it was likely severe if the injury made it physically hard to walk.
"Anna, I understand you're angry. And you don't want to speak to Jack. But be reasonable. There are demons about."
"And even if there weren't, would you still let me see my family?" Anna snarled. She stopped abruptly as they finally reached the large church. She grimaced at them, one foot on the lowest stone step as she turned around. "You wouldn't. Not even for a second."
"Anna."
"If I wasn't so scared," she spat the word, "Of Demons. Of you. I would have just kept going. On my own. So I won't pretend to be happy. I won't pretend to be 'reasonable.' Not for you. Not for Jack. Not for anyone."
"Fine. But this anger will get you nowhere! We can't stay," Helga said firmly, "Anna. Anna! Look at me, young lady!"
The witch held her broom out against Anna's midsection to keep her from walking away.
Anna's strained sockets shot toward her, jaw clenched.
Boogie's Boys shrank back at the venom between the two monsters while Zeldabourne watched, not entirely idle, but silent.
Helgamine stared at Anna's sockets, the darkness contrasting against the young monster's gleaming bone.
The witch's voice softened. Not much. But just enough for the skeleton to notice.
"Anna. Listen very carefully," she said evenly, her creaky dry rasp still fairly harsh. But the care in her words wasn't missed. "This isn't just about you, dear."
Anna frowned and swiped her hand through the air seriously. "I never said…"
"Shush. I'm trying to explain," Helga snapped, "Demons… evil forces as some like to call them, the ones that know of us, have an inherent interest in us. In our world. In Halloween. They've been a…danger… long before you appeared. They're always picking at the Veil like a human with a scab, damn the scars. In recent years they have been more active. But attempts to breach our world have always…"
She stopped, "…th-they've… not been wholly successful. Many monsters aren't even aware of the beating against our walls." Helgamine paused cautiously. "But ever since you came…and sometime before…"
"…What…"
"Small things. The pumpkins rotting early. Strange smoke shapes on the lake. A feeling in the Hinterlands. Somehow…they can touch Halloween, if minutely and in ways that wouldn't raise concern on their own."
"Like they're…testing…" Zeldabourne muttered darkly.
"That shadow thing in the woods…" Anna added.
"THAT should never have happened," Helgamine hissed. "More than two-thousand Halloweens of our town and never once has a demon possessed one of our nightmares before, of all things." The witch sounded…scared. Almost. It was disturbing to even consider. "Annalise, whatever those soulless demons are doing has to do with you. I don't know how. I don't know why. But what I do know is that it isn't safe out here. For you particularly. So, until Jack can guarantee everyone's safety…"
Anna scowled at Jack's name, the malice something that didn't go unnoticed.
"…Then you're only safe back home."
"You're home! Not mine!" Anna suddenly hissed, voice cracking as she raised her voice. Purple fire flashed to life around her fingers, curling up her hands like tiny snakes and licking between the gaps in the bones.
"You don't mean that."
"Anna be careful…" Zelda added, eyes latching on the fire, knowing Anna wasn't aware of what she was doing.
"Secrets! All these damn secrets! About me. About Jack! I'm sick of all of them! Sick of all of you lying to me. Demons, Angels, Monsters! Heaven and Hell! I didn't ask for any of this!"
"Annalise! I'm just trying to give you context! Jack should explain more when you're safe."
Anna's fingers twitched, and a little voice in her head egged her on as she paced on the church steps. Be angry. It's your right. They're all so loyal to Jack, would they really believe you? Would they support you?
"No! I don't care if you're right! Do I get no say in my own fate?! If you weren't already dead, I'd…!" She took a step toward them.
The witches held their ground though Boogie's Boys stepped back from the metaphorical fire in Anna's eyes and the physical fire in her hands. This argument wasn't fun anymore.
The animals made sure to duck behind something.
Anna jolted like she was electrocuted as she saw her hand out the corner of her eyes and the bright flash of purple almost blinded her.
Everyone followed her violet flames with watchful eyes as Anna yelped and shook her hand in an attempt to extinguish the fire that felt as gentle as a soft summer breeze against her bones.
Once it was out, she stared at her empty hand for a moment. She could have sworn there was still a glow of purple, even as the yellow afterimage burned into the back of her skull faded.
Zeldabourne glared at Anna, the tense moment passed. "You'd what? Kill us?"
Anna started and flinched, sockets widening as she realized what she said. "N-no…I would never…" She shrunk back, covering her hands and tucking them close to her chest in shame.
They don't know what Jack did. It isn't fair to blame them. She reminded herself as she sat on the steps.
Why did the thought of hurting them even cross my mind? That was strange and made no sense. It was so out of character for me.
"Not that you even could kill us if you really lost your mind that much," Helgamine scoffed, playfully tapping Anna's shoe sole with her broom, "So I'll let it pass." She sat down on the church steps with a sigh, taking off her hat and wiping off a layer of frost.
"Off you pop, Zero," Zeldabourne said, "Find Jack."
Zero barked and zipped off into the night. He did cast a cautious glance back at Anna as she buried her head in her hands with a heavy sigh.
He couldn't pretend that he knew everything. Most of what the witches said was news to him too. He was still young, as in he wasn't dead long enough to know everything about Halloween.
Anna didn't look up as Helgamine poked her side.
"I can see those pearly ribs of yours, dearie," Helgamine scolded, Anna's behavior forgotten. Her icy knobby fingers ghosted at the tears in Anna's jacket's side and back. "And your spine. What the devil have you been doing to find yourself in this state?"
"Yeah. You look like a slob," Barrel mentioned, a little bit of bravery leaking out.
"Bugger off, imps," Zeldabourne snapped at him, keeping a carefully neutral face about her again. She hadn't lost her temper yet! What a miracle.
Anna lifted her arm to look at the tear and muttered something incomprehensible as she peeled off the jacket. She frowned at the rips, poking her long fingers through them.
Zeldabourne's eyes narrowed as Anna's white blouse revealed a splotch of pinkish blood and sickly yellow around the hole through her shirt where the bottom of her spine was.
"Anna, who did that?" she demanded, not one for patience currently. She ignored Helgamine's glare.
"The Demon…" Anna muttered, keeping her voice low so they couldn't hear any emotion in it. "We were attacked at those weird trees with the…doors. It slashed my spine. It was possessing…a nightmare? How does that work? Are nightmare's like physical things with minds and all?"
"Not really," Helgamine butted in.
Zeldabourne wasn't interested in Anna's education at the moment. "It's already healed then?"
"Mostly. Jasper helped…somehow…and made me sleep. It's still aching a bit."
Zeldabourne scoffed and sternly turned Anna around to inspect the wound before the teen could complain.
Helgamine caught Anna's affronted glance. "Finkelstein is the healer when someone needs a scientific take on an issue or when time or pain doesn't matter. But some monsters prefer going to Zelda if they can. It often depends on who's the least cross of the two that day;"
Zeldabourne sniffed, ignoring Helga, "Jasper didn't actually make a mess of it. There may be scarring, but the bone is mostly whole."
Jasper, still a ghost, sniffed at the insult to his abilities.
Anna shifted away from the witch and Zelda didn't protest, besides a cross motherly glare.
Anna frowned and turned away. She held her hand over the loose thread in her jacket's split fabric. A few frayed black strings waved in the air like metallic strands attracted to a magnet. "I wonder…" she muttered.
Anna stared at the tear and waved her hand, twitching her fingers like she was sewing. Little by little, the individual threads reattached themselves at the molecules, mending and knitting the tear closed like healing flesh until not even the scar of stitching remained.
Anna in her concentration didn't realize at least ten minutes passed while she worked.
The witches watched, impressed but too salty to say so as Anna flipped her jacket over to work on the slash in the back with her powers. No one interrupted.
It was a blessed moment of peace, as well as anything can be blessed with monsters. They just sat there on the long stone steps, long shadows cast by streetlights under a moonless dark sky. They were an odd group of creatures better suited as gargoyles for the church than visitors. It was mildly calm and quiet, except for the Trick or Treaters having their own private conversation a couple feet away,.
It was nice to ignore whatever evil was out there waiting for them. For a moment.
Anna was almost done with her jacket when she spoke, the cathartic feeling of using her powers to impossibly restore torn threads easing her nonexistent nerves a fair bit. "Why don't we go inside if we need holy water."
"We're monsters, Anna. Unclean souls," Helgamine explained, "We can't go inside, but the church will let us stay on the steps where not even demons can set foot. A courtesy really. We just have to wait."
"For what?"
"Anna!"
The skeleton jumped and looked up at the voice.
"Little Braid…?" Anna frowned in confusion.
She was abruptly interrupted as the Thanksgiving Citizen stalked right up to the tall sitting monster and socked her in the arm, surprising those in their growing little crowd who weren't familiar with the Thanksgiving Spirit.
They both shouted in pain.
Anna glared at her new friend and rubbed her arm.
"Ow. Ow," Little Braid hissed quietly, hopping for no real reason while she shook her dead hand and grimaced.
The witches raised their eyebrows, hundreds of hexes they would use on someone foolish enough to do the same to them flashing through each of their minds individually while Lock, Shock, and Barrel laughed derisively at the stranger. They really didn't care who this weirdo was.
"Well, I hope you broke it!" Anna mocked, rolling her shoulder. She ignored Jack who walked up with Governor Hale and Sweet Water, Zero trailing behind.
Jack opened his jaw to greet them cheerfully but shut it as his and Anna's eyes briefly met, the action hidden from the rest of the spirits behind the two skeletons' empty black sockets.
"Well, maybe you…." Little Braid struggled for a moment. "Should…shouldn't have such a hard arm…"
Anna gaped for a second and narrowed her eyes. "I'm made of bone!"
"Well that's your problem," Little Braid muttered stubbornly, massaging her temporarily unfeeling knuckles with a stubborn look.
"What'd you even hit me for?" Anna chided.
"Because you're an idiot," Little Braid retorted.
"You barely know me. Are we really close enough already that you think it's inconsequential to just hit me?"
"You're the one messing with demons!"
"Girls."
They both shut up at the Governors tone. The woman didn't wear glasses. However, she did the disapproving look down the bridge of her nose that Anna previously was sure only people with glasses could pull off.
"Is everyone horrible…"Jack backtracked at the looks on the Thanksgiving people's faces. "Is everyone unharmed?"
"We're fine but…"
Anna interrupted Helgamine quickly before she forgot. She didn't look at Jack or even acknowledge him as she spoke to the witch instead. "Shock broke her ankle or something."
"Mind your own beeswax, Bone Brain," Shock muttered.
Lock smirked playfully (with only a little maliciousness) as he bumped Shock's hip. The smirk disappeared in surprise when Shock's foot went in, and she went down with a shout and colorful language easier than expected.
A long arm suddenly blocked the ground from meeting Shock's face.
The small witch fixed her balance and shot a glare at Jack, almost pushing his arm away.
Jack just raised his eyebrows, silently scolding Shock. He was only helping her. Jack's sight snapped from her to Lock and Barrel. His lacking eyebrows popped up.
Lock grinned defiantly, "Hiya Jack…" He lashed his tail, scratching the church steps.
Jack frowned. "What an interesting surprise seeing you three here..."
"Heh…funny story, Jack," Shock said sweetly, "You see…"
"Shock, I don't even have the wherewithal to deal with you three at the moment. We'll talk later," Jack said sternly, pointing a long stiff finger at each.
Boogie's Boys glanced at each other, surprised they weren't in trouble yet.
"And who, pray tell, are these children?" Governor Hale spoke up, eyeing the Trick or Treaters with concern, and maybe a bit disdain after hearing Shock's dirty mouth.
"Yes. Introductions! These three are Lock, Shock, and Barrel. The Town's finest Trick or Treaters…"
"Ah…" said Sarah, Little Braid, and Sweet Water, having no idea what that meant.
Little Braid didn't like the way those kids were looking at them.
Jack continued nonplussed. "Helgamine. Zeldabourne. This is a ruler of Thanksgiving. Governor, these are two of our most powerful witches," Jack announced with a streak of pride.
Sweet Water noticed Hale's slight recoil at the idea of witches, but he, of course, remained stoic and quiet as a guard until the Governor needed him. He sent his daughter a brief scolding look as she unceremoniously plopped herself upon the church steps next to the younger skeleton.
He watched suspiciously as the skeleton, "Anna," whispered something to Little Braid.
The girl frowned, perplexed, but nodded, agreeing with whatever Anna had requested.
Sarah Josepha Hale let out a breath, the moisture crystallizing in the air. She abruptly held out a hand to one of the witches, the taller one first. "Happy…Thanksgiving. I don't believe we've met. Governor Sarah Hale, ruler of Thanksgiving. My co-ruler, Chief Squanto, isn't here at the moment."
Helgamine stared at the outstretched hand before shifting her piercing-eyed glare upward at the woman without moving.
"Helgamine."
"Zeldabourne," the shorter witch echoed Helgamine's terse response.
Helgamine nodded, "And we don't take kindly to creatures who think to put our children in danger."
Sarah withdrew her hand awkwardly. "Is Ms. Grisholme your…daughter?"
Anna snorted.
The witches maintained a creepy long glare for a moment. "No," they said together.
Jack stepped between the women, raising his arms to placate them. "Ladies…"
As he did, Helgamine glanced at the ground in thought, brows knit and a strange expression that pulled her thin lips tight.
The Governor's question had stoked up a flame of thought. A single idea that Helga suddenly found hard to shake. She glanced at Zeldabourne out the corner of her eye, noting that the other witch had a similar feeling flashing across her face. She quickly shook her head. Only Zelda saw her.
Zeldabourne pulled her lips up in a snarl, wordlessly disagreeing with Helgamine.
It was easy to push the ideas away before when Jack wasn't there. But sometimes one little clue was enough to make the entire puzzle snap into place.
"No," she said again, interrupting Jack and making Helga flinch, "But she's…"
She glanced at Anna.
Zelda, despite everything she knew about Jack as her king and friend, hated him for just a single second as Anna's suddenly terrified gaze darted between Jack and the witch.
Anna glanced back at her in sharp, quick, and hastily hidden panic.
Zelda lost her nerve, and the words died in the air.
The Governor kept eye contact expectantly.
"…Our charge," Helgamine covered for the other witch. "She's our charge."
Perhaps it would have served Jack well to notice the witches discomfort and unspoken words.
As it was, he only twitched as they called Anna "their charge" though they knew full well that wasn't the case.
"It was better that way," he harshly reminded himself as he squashed the whisper that inched up frequently of late.
Is it really? Was there really no way to save Anna without turning her away?
Governor Hale's eyebrow twitched. She didn't believe for a second that Zeldabourne was planning to say, "our charge."
Anna stared at the witches in fear. They figured it out. When?!
"I see. Well," Sarah Josepha Hale clapped her hands, "Little point in dilly-dallying with devils about. Let's get you folks home, shall we?"
"Have you seen the Gatekeeper?" Jack asked the witches. He risked a look at Anna, startled to find her staring at Zeldabourne so nervously.
She sensed him looking and couldn't help but glance.
He stiffened as a mix of emotions flashed behind her sockets. After their last altercation, he was dreading, yet expecting the tension between them. He did scare her those days ago, trapping her in the fire ring like that. After the fact, he remembered that trapping someone in fire which burned her to death was a God-awful traumatizingly cruel thing to do. But her eyes told a different story not entirely connected to that event.
A far more profound fear than a simple panic attack flickered under her eyes. It was there but seemed to be hidden down below a heavy coat of anger.
Anger burned in her sockets, and Jack imagined sinking into the asphalt below his feet under her burning gaze.
She knew.
"No. I thought you knew where he went," Helgamine said.
Jack blinked slowly as he came back to the conversation. He just asked where The Raven…pardon…the Gatekeeper was.
"He came too?"
They were caught off guard by Anna's voice. It was bizarre. Hollow. Empty. Like the voice of an exhausted corpse moments before turning to dust.
Anna didn't seem to care nor notice everyone's reaction to her strange tone. Calling it "sad" wouldn't do her words justice. Empty. Just Empty.
Jack spoke softly at Anna, cutting through the concern in the cold air.
"Of course he did. He's your friend is he not?"
Anna's eyes fully met Jack's. "Then why did you come?"
"Anna," Helgamine scolded.
"You are not my mother, Helga. Give me a moment," Anna deadpanned without breaking gaze with Jack.
"Perhaps we should excuse ourselves," Governor Hale said with a guarded tone, gesturing for Sweet Water to follow her.
Sweet Water motioned to his daughter. This seemed like a personal matter they shouldn't pry into.
Little Braid hesitated, casting Anna a wary glance.
Anna nodded at her, and the American cautiously went to Helgamine.
Little Braid's words sounded small and awkward in the tense silence, "Anna…said you need Holy Water. We can go in churches. Do you…"
Helgamine wordlessly interrupted the spirit and pulled three mason jars out of her bag, passing them to Little Braid who handed two of them off to her father and Mrs. Hale.
They walked up the church steps in silence, leaving the Halloween Citizens below.
Jack looked down. "Annalise…"
"Don't."
Jack nodded, not expecting anything else. He let the seconds tick by. He didn't deserve to say anything.
"Why?"
Jack looked at her with a mildly panicked expression, "Why...what?" It was a big question with many different meanings.
"Why did you choose Mira and the baby over me?" Anna shifted, acutely aware of their audience.
"That was her name? Mira?" Jack said, trying to keep his voice calm, even as his sight darted to the witches, the Treaters, and animals.
They were both treading on thin ice.
Anna only stared straight ahead. "You can't remember?" she almost accused.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Shock interrupted.
Their audience of eight each sported various faces of confusion and maybe fear. There were a lot of anxious thoughts floating around. The witches at least, and maybe Zero, held an air of pity and morbid fascination as they watched Anna and Jack interact.
"I…" Jack started but stilled and looked at Anna.
"What?" Anna glared at him.
"…Do you wish them to know?"
Helgamine watched as Anna's expression melted from anger to one of surprise, just a little. She wasn't expecting Jack to give her such power. She suddenly seemed unsure.
"No," she said slowly, hesitant. She wasn't expecting to have a choice in the matter. She was half planning to just blurt everything out to spite Jack. But he was giving her control of who knew their shared secret?
Jack nodded and made a strange gesture up at the sky.
Anna seemed to understand because she turned around sharply and started walking to the church, a terrifyingly livid glint in her socket once again.
"Wait! What's going on!?" Lock demanded. He started toward the skeletons but was suddenly held back by Zeldabourne grabbing the back of his red shirt.
"Stay here," she said tersely, her voice strict and crackly, leaving no room for argument.
Lock paled, more than usual, even as he glared at the witch for daring to tell him what to do. But he stayed.
Shock sneered at him for acting so passive, but she didn't try anything either.
Barrel just stared at the skeletons as they Faded and zipped up the side of the tall building to the roof, Jack trailing behind like he wasn't particularly looking forward to the coming conversation.
As for Anna, if an inky black shadow could look pissed as it darted up the wall of a church, Anna was managing it brilliantly.
"Someone better tell us something eventually," Lock pouted crossly.
"Something tells me we'll all learn what we should once those two have a word," Helgamine said with an annoyed hiss. "I believe they're long overdue."
Anna didn't look up as Jack climbed up on the roof behind her.
She swung her feet and stared down at the street below. They were on the roof of her grandmother's old church. Anna wasn't Catholic.
She had memories of this place. They had her grandparent's funerals here. And her cousins' christening. Had she been christened; would that have saved her soul perhaps? Probably not.
The ground was a long way down. The height made her want to throw up and left this horrible twisting knot in the pit of where her stomach would be.
Fear. A fear of heights. It was just one more phobia to add to her list. She hated the growing list of things she was afraid of now. A month ago, she would have sat as close to the edge as reasonably possible without a care in the world. Now? She scooted a couple inches back at the next gust the Wind ambivalently sent her way.
She said nothing as the spindly form of Jack Skellington eased into a seat next to her, his own legs dangling off the edge of the roof
She looked at him out the corner of her eye and, somehow, she knew he was doing the same with his own dark circles.
They sat in silence for far too long, neither one wishing to speak first, but for very different reasons.
A flash of light caught Anna's eye, and she witnessed a shooting star streak across the night sky right in front of them. It was surprising to see it in the middle of Yomen, what with all the light pollution from town. Then again it was a new moon out.
She jumped and let out a short, startled scream at the childish gasp of glee that broke the silence. "My goodness! How extraordinary!" Jack sat up straight and leaned dangerously forward as if hoping for another one. He took her arm in excitement, forgetting himself. "Did you see that, Anna?! Did you? How majestic! The wonder. I've never seen something so…so extraordinary in a while! I hope the others saw."
Anna nodded, looking at the skeleton in curiosity, a little taken aback by his passion for a shooting star. She stiffly pulled her arm out of his hand.
It was like he had forgotten entirely their tense situation and the conversation looming before them.
For a moment, his strange reaction made her forget how angry at him she was.
"We don't often see stars in Halloween town," the Pumpkin King said at her dumbstruck expression. He frowned slightly, but the distracting joy of the moment didn't leave his sockets. "I'll admit. It's sad that one of them fell. But it had such a stunning fall that such an occasion should be celebrated."
Anna didn't have the heart or energy to tell him that shooting stars weren't actually stars, though she found it strange that Jack didn't know this what with how old he really was. She opened her jaw to say something, but there was suddenly an ache in her throat.
Jack's voice grew thoughtful and oh so serious, "I wonder if we can have funeral's for stars…."
It was very short—a single gasp of air, but the laugh that caught her off guard was enough to remind Anna of the façade she had somehow hidden her emotions behind the past few hours.
Jack tore his sight away from the majestic, awe-inspiring night sky that he almost never got to see when he heard Anna's noise.
He sobered. "The constellations are different from when I learned them as a boy. Orion. Pisces. Cygnus. Those were never the names I knew when I was alive. I can't even remember what they used to be. I wonder if I was the kind of child to make up my own."
Anna tapped her fingers on her knees and wiped her eyes with her other hand, angrily stifling the weak giggle.
"You didn't answer my question."
Jack looked at her, but Anna still refused to meet his gaze.
"Why I chose Mira and the baby over you?"
Anna nodded.
"The consequences were farther away," Jack admitted in shame. "I could…trick myself into thinking the future was so far away, it simply didn't matter to me. I made believe this moment wouldn't actually come."
His voice weakened, "I knew them. I knew my son and I knew who he loved. I…I didn't know who you would be, lass."
Anna scoffed at his explanation. She noticed the dip into a European accent. She didn't care.
"Does it really matter if you knew who I would be?" she hissed accusingly.
Jack cleared his "throat" uncomfortably. "I supposed I was always a little disillusioned from reality." He laughed at himself, "Now if I could just recognize what a fool I am before I ruin things." He deflated slightly. "Anna…what I did…"
She scowled, a small noise growling from the back of her jaw.
Jack paused, then pressed on, not one to be frightened by another monster's growling. Not yet. Not hers. "What I did was a terrible thing. Inexcusable. I can't…"
Anna's tightened her fist and started to shake. She eyed him out the corner of her narrowed sockets.
Jack whispered, his own voice cracking, just a little. "You have every right to be angry—"
"I hate you."
Jack's jaw clicked shut audibly as Anna broke her glare at him to cover her eyes with one hand, her teeth gritted, and corners of her mouth pulled back into a vicious snarl under her covered eyes.
Hot liquid leaked around her hands, dry skin-less sticks that couldn't seal the crying away from the rest of the world even if she somehow had skin on her face to press against.
Her thin bony hands lent no emotional protection.
Jack flinched as she spoke, feeling like a scolded child at every broken word that hit him in the ribcage despite how much he knew he deserved it.
A memory long since past echoed in his skull.
A ghost, flesh on her bones, blood everywhere, and the smell of burnt flesh in the air, hissed at the sting of the cleaning as Jack got to work.
"Cease thy fidgeting, spirit!" Jack muttered.
The spirit looked on, trying to be as still as she could. She glared at Jack in resentment. "I hate you." Immediately, her stomach dropped at those words, and she regretted it.
She stifled the regret and stiffened, glaring at the bone man stubbornly.
Jack felt her stiffen and looked at her in confusion. "I've done many things I no longer find pride in, maiden. But I remember the faces of those I've wronged, and you are not one such creature."
"Yet."
He should have listened.
"I'm sure," he had said in veiled amusement.
"You're going to remember this, aren't you?" the spirit had said, wistful at the time.
Jack closed his eyes, pulling out of the memory forcefully. Based on what he could remember, that old memory was likely from Anna's perspective not too long ago, between now and their last fight.
"I hate you." The words were soft broken noises that escaped Anna's mouth like the precious breath of a drowning man. She was desperate to hold them in. But for so long she had hidden away everything she felt about this horrible story that tied her fate to Jack's choices.
Jack was silent, as he had been for weeks.
Somehow, his silence angered her more. It was like he was the child and she was the two-thousand-year-old entity. She wanted him to defend himself! To try justifying himself. Where was that pride of his now?!
"I hate you!" she screamed desperately, her eyes still covered and her shattered voice crisp in the cold air. She needed to believe it. Anger was the only emotion she could control in this situation, "I hate you! I hate you! You took away everything and I…"
There was a pain in her chest.
She cried too much today.
"I h-hate you!" she sobbed.
She cried. She broke down there on the steps, almost falling forward as she bowed her head farther and wept. She ignored the crumbling of stone under her fingertips as she gripped them with supernatural strength.
Her frustrated shout into the open air wasn't that horrible, bone-chilling wail of loss, confusion, and fear from when she first woke up in Halloween and got lost in the Hinterlands. It wasn't like that helpless, pleading weeping she felt when learning how her family was faring.
This was quieter. Hopeless. The terrible crushing fear of a not having a choice in her own fate was squashed under her anger for far too long. This was the crying of a teenage girl with a death sentence and the weight of everything awful that had ever happened to her piled high on her shoulders. She felt like cracking under pressure. She was already dead. Would it be any escape to merely tip forward and shatter against the stone steps below her?
Pathetic. She rarely ever cried when she was alive. She always thought it was a sign of weakness. Weakness came from fear and sadness. Fear was something she never had, and she rarely was sad in life. Why should she be sad? She had everything she needed. Friends.
Family.
Love.
A Home. That's all she ever wanted. Home. Even if her human life left her trying too hard to fit in—to be accepted—it was still home.
The church steps felt so far away. She could easily fall to them from where she was seated.
Thoughts were abruptly cut as long arms, thin and hard like hers under the sleeves, grabbed her by the arm and shirt and pulled her back to keep her from tipping forward.
"I hate you…" Anna sobbed as she struggled against Jack.
Jack nodded but didn't say anything.
"I hate you," she whispered, still crying. She hit Jack's chest unaware of how strong she was.
"I know," he murmured back, voice dry and cracking. He knew his touch was unwelcomed, but he awkwardly held Anna tighter, wary of the long fall they were inches from. He felt a rib, or two, crack from her blows but didn't dare react. "I'm sorry." His words felt worthless.
"I…h-hate you," Anna screamed.
But she's also scared. Jack resisted the urge to yank his hand away at the unbridled wave of fear that washed over him when he gripped her arm.
It was painful to sense—like frozen needles stabbing his spine over and over again. Anna didn't know how to shield or block her aura from anyone except herself. A bit counterintuitive.
It was a gift and curse to be creatures made of emotions. Much of their survival ran on human emotions and belief, but that didn't mean they couldn't feel as well.
Jack didn't want to feel this fear of hers.
It was messy. Painful. A poisonous decay that was desperate to latch onto his own soul like a parasitic vine.
Anna was terrified, her rage at him like a little child drowning in an ocean darker than rancid blood.
That child was strong at first, but the cold waves of fear were leeching away the small body's energy. They were fighting, making sure Anna had something else to cling to besides a formless void of fear.
Jack understood that feeling.
Anna was so scared.
He didn't need to sense it like he did. Only hearing the desperation in her voice would have been enough.
She needed this anger, or else she was going to drown in her fear.
So be it. Let her be angry at him.
There was something else.
Jack didn't recognize it at first.
Love, he realized after a moment. He imagined it like a small island in the ocean. Maybe it wasn't actually small, but it was so far away from the fear she was feeling now that it might as well be. He assumed it was her family she loved so much, but she was struggling in the ocean, and she was too far away from the island to possibly reach it.
His stupid long hands were shaking he realized. Of all the times to develop a tick.
He had no place to do so, but he held on to Anna like a lifeline. It was strange, he knew. But there was no one else up on that roof with them. He didn't have to be the Pumpkin King. He could just be a man who made so many mistakes. He could be a man desperate to correct one from his past. Just one. One horrible mistake.
"I'm so sorry," he said as if repeating it could somehow make everything go away. He wished that was how it worked. If he could just be sorry enough.
Anna felt him shake. "Do you know what you took from me?" she said through gritted teeth, though she didn't pull her arm away.
Jack was diligently staring at her, resigned to her hatred. He didn't answer at first. "Yes," he said eventually.
"I'm never going to be beside them as my brother and sister grow up," Anna started, voice dripping in anger and grief as she gathered the strength for all her words, "I won't be there as they turn into adults with lives of their own and beautiful families. I'm reduced to fading memories and a few photographs and maybe a pile of magic bones haunting their grandchildren.
My parents are going to grow old and die one day, and I can't be there! I won't even be waiting for them in Heaven like they hope. I'm stuck down here! And what will they think of me when I'm not there to greet them?" She cringed in shame, tears stinging her nonexistent eyes.
Jack flinched.
"My best friend will get married, and I can't be there by her side or her by mine. We promised each other that much."
"Anna…" Jack's voice was breathy like he was struggling to speak. Yet he still sounded calmer than Anna.
"But you know the worst thing?" Anna whispered, "I never said it out loud or even thought about it long enough to put it into words. I didn't write it in the journal the witches gave me because I was afraid and didn't want to face truth I already knew. Because I was never a very mushy type of person. Because I'm a sixteen-year-old girl, who knew we weren't ready yet. I know we were too young. I knew. He knew."
Anna cried. "I am never going to grow old with the man I love." She was so tired struggling with her emotions that she couldn't bring herself to care how schmaltzy her words were sounding.
Jack reacted by defensively holding her hands as Anna reached out and gripped his suit lapels. She didn't pull him close but was harsh enough to turn him toward her.
Jack didn't resist.
She gripped his coat tight, glaring eye to eye.
Jack slowly let go of her hands, raising his in surrender.
Immediately Anna began to smell the charring of his suit in her grip. It was a harsh, acrid smell of burning spider silk.
"He proposed that night," Anna hissed, hands tightening. "We were too young. We both knew that. We're sixteen for crying out loud!" Anna closed her eyes. Her voice softened, turning almost wistful. "But we were sure. So very sure. We were willing to wait, no matter how long. Until we were both ready, whether that meant college, jobs, or just time. He gave me a promise ring, Jack!"
Anna paused turning her skull, just enough to see the tops of the houses spread out below and around them.
For a moment, just a small one, Jack felt Anna tense with a dull creak of bones, and he knew that she was so hurt and so angry that throwing him from the roof seemed reasonable. He knew the feeling personally.
Perhaps they were more alike than either of them were willing to admit, or wanted.
Hell wasn't interested in claiming his soul all those years ago for his good looks after all. That was so very long ago. He wasn't that man anymore. Not since long before he died.
He gave up that life for his family. His human family. James. His…wife…whose name it pained him not to be able to remember. His daughters. Evelyne. That was one name he was sure of. Somewhat. But the baby… he wrote it down somewhere. He had to. Even Mira was his daughter…though she was only ever a random village child when he was alive.
Now here he was staring into the sockets of his family (for that's what he and Anna were, no use denying it) knowing that this darkness inching into her heart was his fault in many more ways than one. His blood. His mistakes. His apathy. His desperation.
His selfishness.
It didn't matter to Anna that he changed. It shouldn't.
Anna let go.
Jack stared at her, slightly surprised she didn't shatter him on the pavement in front of the others waiting below. It wouldn't kill him, yes. Or even really hurt him in the long run. But it was the principle. Anna deserved to take her anger out on him any way she pleased.
"I could never love another like I love Mark," Anna said, purposely using the present tense.
They didn't speak for a few minutes.
Jack looked forward and leaned forward, skeleton hands holding his skull tiredly while bony elbows bit into his knees. He was silent like he had been for much of the conversation.
Anna stared down at the ground. She didn't care if he was crying. She didn't even check.
He probably wasn't. Even after everything, it seemed wrong to imagine Jack could even cry.
It still made her blood boil (figuratively) just thinking about Jack and what he did. At the very least, he didn't deserve to cry. "I have to go back to Halloween, don't I?"
Jack nodded. "Yes."
"And I can't risk leaving ever again. Not even on Halloween."
"I'm afraid so."
"That's why you never trained me," Anna said, the pieces clicking together like rusty gears, "If I learned from you, you'd eventually have to let me join the others on Halloween night. I'd be out here where that demon can get me."
"…I was trying to protect you."
"You expect me to thank you?" she hissed.
Jack's resigned silence was all the answer she got.
"I'm not you, you know," she whispered bitterly.
Jack glanced at her.
"I wasn't going to throw you off the roof."
"Spirit, how did you…" Jack questioned with a frown before shutting his mouth.
Anna stared at him, the nickname the Jack of the past called her hanging in the air. Spirit, Lass, Banshee. All names he called her when he couldn't know her name.
"…I didn't realize everyone was sensing my emotions all the time…" Anna muttered, disturbed that she could sense Jack's surface thoughts, though not actually hear them and only when she touched him.
"They don't. It's rude," Jack explained shortly. "It's usually for humans…or new arrivals who have such strong emotions nobody can help but feel it.
Anna sneered.
"Annalise…"
"Do not!" she snarled. "I want to know everything. How you knew who I was when I arrived since I was a bloody human mess when you first met me. Why demons are so freaking petty. Why that Reaper couldn't fix this. Why me!" Anna forced herself to take a breath, the useless air whistling in her ribcage.
She let the seconds tick while she breathed.
"But not right now…" she whispered, barely audible.
She looked at him, and he straightened. "But if I have to spend eternity seeing you every day, then by God we have enough days to fill with you explaining everything to me in detail."
"Yes," Jack muttered. "If I may say one thing…" He took a breath, similar to hers. He winced as a rib Anna cracked earlier made an uncomfortable popping noise, loud enough for Anna to jump. "Just to be clear…I don't expect you to ever forgive me, no matter how sorry I am."
Anna's sockets widened a bit. She stared at him and frowned suspiciously. "…And?"
"That's it."
She blinked, caught off guard that he hadn't tried to shift blame at all. "Well…well, I wasn't planning on it…" she said coldly.
Jack nodded and hummed, his sockets narrowing in thought as he stared out over the town for a moment.
"We can't stay here," he said.
Anna nodded stiffly, a shiver striking her spine as she remembered what waited below.
Jack waited for a moment before nodding and turning to leave first. He knew she needed space.
Anna waited until the sounds of him leaving were quiet.
She looked up at the stars. She wanted to ask for help, but she couldn't think of what to say. She wasn't entirely sure He was even listening.
She hummed softly, bleeding barely uttered words into the small tune. She was off key, she knew, but she didn't care. Maybe it was weird to her human mind, but the lyrics ran through her skull and wouldn't leave her be.
It felt better than screaming at the sky at least.
You say that you know me, but what does that mean?
A mistake, a heartache, or more than I seem
A sister, a friend, or a lost crying child
But in the end, am I left unreconciled
With the tug of the heartstrings that rattle the bone
I ask what conscience let you all but condone
My soul to be broken, my future unspoken
I wish for a life where my fates are my own
I pray for a family that I love to the bone
"Not yet", do I cry and not yet will I try
I wait by the shoreline of forgive and forget
Lost under waves of fear and cold sweat
A home lost to flames just as I made my place
How long till forget my own face
Her voice trailed off on a high note, her short song unfinished in the crescendo. She dropped down to a soft lullaby whisper.
"Not yet" is a promise.
"Not yet" is a creed.
"Not yet" is a vow to try; though I may not succeed