Haunting

Chapter six: Ryan

Summary: You grew up on them...whether to scare you or intrigue you. Ghost stories, chilling and mysterious. Some people don't believe in them..and those are the people that come to find out, first hand...That they're true. -Not a Mary-Sue, and is really interesting. PLZ read.-

A/N: This is an odd idea in and of itself, and I realize this. But its October, and its getting near to Halloween...and I just got this idea. I hope you all will like it...after all, this is a challenging thing to write if I still want it to be legit. -grin- I hope I manage it all right.

BTW: There is no romance in this. At least not between any female and any newsie. Just to set that straight. This isn't a Mary-Sue.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own newsies. Thank you.

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"If he is a ghost, then it's very disappointing for me, because he is banished in the story, and that could mean that he won't be coming back, and that would be terrible, wouldn't it?"

- Paul Darrow

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The first thing Elizabeth saw when she opened her eyes, was a white ceiling. Blinking her eyes in confusion, she shifted her body, realizing she was lying on something soft. Gasping in realization she bolted upright in the bed, palms flat on the mattress and staring around wildly.

A hospital. She was in a hospital.

Taking a deep breath she pulled the covers back and swung her legs over the side. Her footing was unsure and her balance unsteady, but she gripped onto the end table, and then to the wall as she made her way to the door.

It was when she reached for the door handle that she noticed the bandages wrapped around her hands. Frowning, she raised a hand to her face, grumbling. It made her look and feel like she was wearing thick winter mittens.

She tried twice to turn the metal knob, to no avail. There was absolutely no grip given by her bandaged up hands. Groaning she hit her head on the wall a few times, before moving toward the window, staring out over lover Manhattan.

"Well." Her voice was scratchy from the smoke inhalation, but laced with sarcasm. "This sucks."

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"Elizabeth, are you all right?!" Mrs. Miller pulled her daughter into a hug before pulling her back for an inspection and then back in for another hug.

"Yes. Mom. I'm fine." Elizabeth struggled to get out of the choke hold, rolling her eyes. "Just like when you asked me two seconds ago."

Placing a hand on her head, Mr. Miller took a deep breath. "You scared us, Liz. We thought we had lost you."

"Well...You didn't. I'm fine... But please, dear God, woman, let me breathe!" Tearing away from her mother, Elizabeth rubbed at her throat, turned away from her parents so they would take the hint and leave.

She knew she was being cruel, but she didn't really know what to tell them. It's not like she could stand there and say: Mom, Dad, I ran back into our burning house because my friend Race who lives in my room with me - he's a ghost, don't worry - was still in there and I wanted to make sure he was okay.

Yeaaaaaaahhhh... That would go over real well.

She was so caught up in her thoughts, mostly of what she was going to say to her parents, that she didn't hear them leave, or the door reopen about a half hour later. She did, however, feel the hand that fell down on her shoulder.

Yelling in shock, Elizabeth jumped, mouth open to scream before a hand clamped itself over her mouth. She heard her name and relaxed only slightly, recognizing the Irish accent that seeped through the voice.

After a moment the grip relaxed and she pulled away, turning to look at the newcomer, brow creased in confusion. "Ryan...Gallagher?"

He was standing there, his hands in his pockets, eyes narrowed a bit. He looked like he was calculating something up in his head, something that didn't quite add up. Those sharp eyes locked with hers and there was the briefest smile on his face.

This wasn't the guy she had seen at school...That was for sure.

"So...Elizabeth Miller.. How long have you been living with your ghost?"

What.

The.

Hell.

Jaw dropping, Elizabeth handled the situation like any other teenage girl her age would. She cold cocked him and walked to her bed, turning the television on to wait for him to stop gasping and sputtering in shock.

When he was down to just staring, she shut the t.v. off and turned to him. "Now... How about you sit down and tell me how you know about Race."

'You just hit me."

"Yes I did."

"Why did you hit me?"

"You were rude."

"How was I rude?!"

-Insert loud Gaelic cursing as the remote control landed upside head. -

Rubbing his now pounding head in shock, Ryan carefully walked to the bed and sat down gingerly, clearing his throat. "Uh... Ms. Miller... About the ghos- WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!"

Elizabeth pulled her hand back from where she had slapped him. "You hadn't asked how I was doing. Now you're being rude and inconsiderate."

Mouth dropped, Ryan tried, unsuccessfully, to form words. Finally he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, miss... How are you doi-" This time he managed to miss the object thrown at his head. But just barely. "-ng. Why do you keep trying to hit me?!"

"I'm fine. But don't call me miss. I'm not thirty."

"Fine! Ma'am-"

BAM.

"How is that any better?!"

Looking up from his new residence upon the floor, Ryan stared as she calmly placed the flower vase back on the side table. "You're freakin insane!" He snapped before bracing for another hit.

"Why thank you."

He paused, eyes wide. "What? You're not going to throw something at me?"

Eyebrow raised over the glass of water she was drinking from, Liz shrugged. "If you insist..." She raised the glass and he about fell over trying to back away.

"No! NO!"

"Hm." Slightly disappointed, Elizabeth went back to sipping her water and watching horrible daytime t.v. Eyebrow raised, she looked back at Ryan. "Didn't you come here for a reason?"

Getting to his feet, Ryan Gallagher brushed himself off and looked back at her, serious.

Five minutes later he was coming out of the room cursing up a storm and wiping water and glass from his hair. Laughing, Liz waited until she was sure he was gone before the laughter died from her face and worry crept into her eyes.

How had he known about Race?

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Finally managing to be let out of the hospital - with the direct orders to not do anything that would aggravate the burns all over her - Elizabeth found herself on the ride back to her house. They couldn't stay in the house, for obvious reasons, but they were sleeping in a camper outside.

Just to keep an eye on the rebuilding and stuff like that.

Her parents were also, thank you God, sound sleepers, so it was no problem to sneak out that night and race the few feet to the house, where she carefully made her way up the stairs, trying to not look around too much.

Stopping outside her door, she took a deep breath and winced at the scorch marks on the door. Pushing it open she was happy to see the fire hadn't made it up here, and the damage wasn't that bad. However...

Gasping, she raced across the floor and slid down next to Race's slightly translucent form, unable to take a hold of his arm to shake him. Growling in frustration she pounded the floor and called him until his eye twitched.

"Racetrack Higgins!"

"CHEESE!" He bolted straight up, eyes wide.

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There. Update. I'm good. Hehe.

So...Review?