Haunting

Chapter seven: I didn't save you

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: yaaah, sorry guys. School death.

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.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"If a man harbors any sort of fear, it percolates through all his thinking, damages his personality. Makes him landlord to a ghost."

- Lloyd C. Douglas

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"You really don't remember?"

Race slowly shook his head, sitting in the middle of the floor, his face nearly emotionless. Elizabeth knew that look, and it took all her strength for her to not call him on it. He had told her once, that he had been a poker player. He was quite good at the blank face.

Especially when he wanted to hide something.

"What are the police sayin?" He aimed at changing the subject, and let off a small sigh of relief when she took it.

"That it was all electrical. They haven't found the point of origin yet, but its all an accident." She shrugged a bit, her fingers playing with her sleeve. It was a habit Race recognized. Raising his head, he met her eyes.

"Liz? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" She repeated slowly, eyes darkening. "What's wrong? My house went up in flames, Race! I nearly died! We don't have anywhere to live, my parents don't have the money to rebuild, and you dare to ask me what's wrong?!"

Blinking wide eyes, the ghost watched her as she got to her feet, fuming. He opened his mouth to say something, when she swept an arm over her dresser, breaking things she had cherished since she was young, shattering them on the floor, against the wall.

"Liz!" He yelled, on his feet and behind her, solid arms jerking her backwards, "Liz, stop!" He winced as a jagged piece of porcelain flew by his head, mostly from reflex, as she started to scream.

Race held onto her, even as she screamed, even as she thrashed around, tried to throw him into the wall, tried to break his grip. She cursed him in every language she knew, cursed the house, and finally started to curse herself as the screaming escalated into full blown sobbing.

Turning his head away, he waited until she had stopped sobbing, and then let his grip go. Elizabeth slid to the floor, covering her face with her hands, shoulder's shaking. He heard his name and dared lean a little closer.

What he heard made his eyes fly open and he grabbed her arms, jerking them down.

"Gallagher?"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"What did you find out, Ry?"

Ryan sighed, phone held up with one hand as the other ran through his hair. "Nothing. She's tight lipped and as stubborn as you are."

There was laughter on the other end. "Ryan, I do miss you. When are you coming home?"

Looking around at all the people running around the park, he shook his head. "Not until the job is done, Darcy. You know father."

Silence. "Aye. I know father. But I also know you. This life is not for you."

"It doesn't matter." He looked at his watch and then stood up from the bench. "Look, I have to go. Don't worry about me, and don't call here again. Good-bye, sister."

"Rya-"

Flipping the cell phone closed, his fingers tightened into a fist. He would find out about that ghost if it was the last thing he did. His father needed that of him. He wasn't going to fail. Not again.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Race's hands shook her, back and forth. "Did you just say Ryan Gallagher?" He demanded, eyes widened slightly. "Did you?" He snapped when he didn't get a response the first time. "Elizabeth!"

"...You're hurting me..."

Cursing in fluent Italian, Race let her go, noticing he had left her arms red. He opened his mouth to apologize, but shut it again, because she had started to talk.

"Yes, I said Gallagher... He's a new student in my class." Elizabeth tried not to touch her aching arms. He hadn't meant to do it, she was sure. She just didn't know what the problem was. What did the name mean? "He came to see me when I was in the hospital...he knew who you were."

Race frowned. "He knew about me? Were you talkin or something?"

"No...He just asked. Why? Race, what's so wrong with his name being Gallagher?"

Race got up, pacing back and forth, his form slightly translucent, so that the small amount of light went through him, giving him an almost misty-like quality. "Ryan Gallagher senior, I would guess dis kid's father, is a famed Ghost Hunter."

Insert silence.

"You're kidding." Elizabeth blinked. "They actually have real Ghost Hunters?"

"Yes, they do. And this kind specialized in gettin' rid of dem." Race stopped his pacing, and turned to look at her. His gaze was heated. He didn't want to assume, but it was hard not to. How else would he know about him?

"Getting rid of them...But Race!" Her eyes flew open when she realized the danger her friend was in. "They can't get rid of you. You haven't done anything wrong. You saved me back there, didn't you?"

Race frowned, and then slowly shook his head. "About dat...Liz, I didn't save anyone."

"What do you mean? Who else pulled me away from the fire? They found me on the first floor. I wasn't on the first floor, Race." She ran her hand through her hair. "It had to have been you."

"It isn't somethin I'm proud of, but Liz, I didn't even know there was a fire."

"But...But..." She got to her feet, shaking her head. "I don't understand." She leaned on the window sill, looking out at the quiet night. Nothing broke the stillness, nothing, not even an errant shadow.

"Neither do I." Race sighed, his form disappearing where he stood, his voice the only thing left, ringing in the air, until that too faded. "...Neither do I..."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Race sat on the roof, long after Elizabeth returned to her bed. He just didn't understand it. There were so many things that just didn't add up. Ryan Gallagher knowing who he was, the fire, Elizabeth's rescuer, the entire thing was spinning out of his control.

Sighing, he rubbed at his face. If ghosts could get stressed, this was definitely his version of it. For the first time in a long time, he wished he had a cigar, and a pack of playing cards. Face brightening a little at the thought, he drifted down to the house.

They had to be here... Race combed through Mr. Miller's downstair's desk, finally pulling out a pack of cards. With a broad smile, he slipped the undamaged cards from their case, and held them for a long moment.

Why hadn't he thought of this before? Honestly. He started to shuffle, going through the patterns he knew by heart. His life had been cards at one point, and he had loved it. His hands remembered what his mind no longer did, and he started to shuffle one handed, a surprised chuckle coming from his throat.

The days would no longer seem endless, now, he had something to do. He returned to two handed shuffling, when something fell from behind him and shattered on the floor boards. His hands jerked, and the cards sprayed everywhere.

Even as he spun, and the cards drifted to land on the floor, there was no one there.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

oooooo. I wonder who that was! -grin-

Review?