A/N: I'M SO SORRY! Please forgive me for not updating! School just suddenly started piling crap on me and I haven't had time. This chapter is very long and a lot happens in here, so I hope it makes up for my absence. I'm going to New York in like 7 hours so I wanted to get this up before I go to sleep.

The two fighting apparitions stopped mid swing to turn their fury fueled eyes to the object of Stinkie's questioning. Both had expected something random, of course, or something with no real significant importance such as Kat carrying a suspicious box as she often did now and again these days. Or even really nothing at all, just Stinkie trying to divert their attention from pounding each other's transparent faces to a pulp. They both knew the youngest had never been prone to violence, but turned absolutely squeamish when pure hate was being channeled amongst their family. As tough as he tried to be he was always the shyest, the weak link even, and all of his brothers (even Casper's father) would tease and proclaim him the 'sister they never had'. Immediately sensing his obvious distress Fatso and Stretch lowered their fists and finally took notice of what Stinkie was pointing to.

It was Jane, surprisingly, and that immediately reduced Fatso's anger. Stretch too was glad it was the new skin sack, but for different reasons. If it had been Kat watching them he was almost positive she would have made a smart remark, and he wasn't too sure he'd be able to hold back from strangling her. But then he noticed something odd. Jane wasn't exactly watching them. In fact, it looked as if she didn't even know they were floating above the chandelier, which surprised him. Surely she had heard them yelling. She couldn't be that dumb…or maybe she was deaf?

Stinkie looked from Jane, to his brothers, and then back again with a look of utter relief. He silently thanked whatever deity had sent forth this angel, and with another sigh joined his brother in wondering what the hell she was doing.

XxXxXxXxX

Jane was in fact completely oblivious to what had been going on right above her head. Shortly after Fatso had left, her stomach suddenly decided to make its hunger known and made her remember that she had left without eating. Reluctantly Jane left the confines of her room and headed for the kitchen, praying that no one was there to make the trip awkward.

The shouting had not started yet, which is why when Jane stopped briefly to stare at the stair's railing she was not distracted. All of her attention focused on the curving wood, Jane became unaware of everything else around her. It was a trait she would soon learn was not only possessed by her.

It feels slick enough…but what if I fall? Jane thought as she ran a hand over the wood, eyeing the height between it and the marbled floor below wearily.

She fidgeted slightly, taking half a step forward before leaning back and biting her lip. This was absolute madness…Gathering all her courage Jane moved closer, lifting her leg up and congratulating herself for wearing pants. With only a bit more hesitation she found herself straddling the railing, hands braced in front of her and leaning forward as if on a horse. Now, all she needed was the strength to push…

XxXxXxXxX

The trio watched Jane climb onto the railing, her intentions suddenly clearer. It was almost laughable (well completely laughable actually), but none of them dared for the situation was still far too tense for jokes to be made.

Fatso's eyes flicked quickly to Stretch, his lip curling into a sneer. Stretch met his gaze just in time to catch his sneer turning into a malicious grin. It was one he knew well, one that was rare but able to be recognized immediately. Fatso was about to prove something, and Stretch found himself worried for Jane. That smile always led to trouble…

And then Fatso was gone, vanishing into thin air. Stretch and Stinkie watched their now invisible brother fly quickly over to the stairs, becoming visible once more behind Jane. The poor woman hadn't seen it coming, only aware of a cold pressure on her back, and then she was sliding. It came as such a surprise she barely had time to cry out, only halfway down did the scream finally surface from her lungs. The other two brothers watched on in horror, so focused on the shrieking woman they did not notice Fatso flying to the end of the railing.

Before she was flung off (to her doom, she was sure), Jane was abruptly engulfed in a pocket of cold, and suddenly, she wasn't falling anymore. Instead, she found herself being lowered gently to the ground.

The cold left her as soon as her feet touched the ground, and Jane couldn't find the strength to stand. Her knees buckled and she crumpled to the floor, sliding on her butt. She tried to at least sit, but her body was trembling so bad she gave up and lay flat on her back. Fatso was quickly visible in front of her, worry and only slight regret on his face.

Above them, Stinkie sighed in relief. Stretch did as well, but annoyance was quick to make itself known on his handsome features, and if you looked close enough, some could have swore pride.

He faked us out…What a cruel sneak. Guess I know who's side he's on now.

But even as the bitter thought crossed his mind, there was a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. Stinkie caught the flash of emotion and was quick to look away. If Stretch knew he had seen the brief soft moment, his mood would surely turn sour and only make the problem worse.

Stretch turned to leave, heading up through the roof and into the attic.

Stinkie watched him go, and judging by the direction, he'd be gone for awhile.

To his solitude… he thought sadly. They each had their own safe havens, claimed long ago in life. Their own private places to shut out the rest of the world, mostly retreating to them when there were family problems. Stretch had it easiest however, his was a room no one but him ever entered. Fatso's had been torn down long ago, and if he had found a new one, not him nor Stretch had the balls to ask. As for Stinkie himself…well, he rarely got the chance anymore. His safe haven was a blessing, as well as a curse. It's always there, but almost never unoccupied…

With that last thought, he turned and headed to his room. Maybe he'd try and visit it tonight…

XxXxXxXxX

Jane was breathing hard, a sound similar to a sob racking through her body.

Fatso was quick to recover the situation.

"Jane! You okay? Didn't mean to scare ya that much!" Actually I did but… he trailed off in his head.

She looked up at him, swallowed, and then spoke.

"You wanna know how I feel?"

"Yeah!"

"Honestly…I almost wet my pants. In fact, I think I might have…" she answered, pointedly putting a hand to her crotch while grimacing. Her hand came away dry, and she looked up with an uncertain smile.

Fatso stared a moment before cracking a huge grin. Her attempt at crude humor sent him into a fit of giggles that immediately washed away Jane's nervousness of how the joke would make him react.

After his hysterics subsided, he deftly picked her up and set her upright. The moment she was settled however, he reeled back, hands shooting away as if he had been burned. She gave him a questioning look as he began poking her side.

"Fatso what are you-"

"Why are you so thin?"

His question was hard, almost angry. Jane felt a rush of embarrassment as she ran a hand over her side, able to feel ribs even through the cotton t-shirt.

"I…well I haven't been eating right I guess. And I haven't left this place in days. I usually run in the morning."

Fatso surprisingly glared, grabbing her hand and pulling none too gently towards the kitchen. She made a squeak of surprise but did not resist.

Jane was seated in the nearest chair and told to stay put while Fatso flitted around the kitchen. From the refrigerator he pulled out three kinds of lunch meat as well as mayonnaise and mustard. From the cabinets he grabbed a loaf of pre-sliced white bread and swiftly began piling everything together. By the time he was done, Jane found herself staring at a triple decker roast beef, ham, turkey, mayonnaise, and mustard sandwich. The title itself made her stomach flip, and she couldn't even imagine what she would feel after consuming it.

Fatso sat beside her, simply stating "Eat" and then remaining quiet while he waited.

Jane gave him an "Are you serious?" look, and only received a nod.

She stalled for as long as she could, and only when she felt the silence would suffocate her did she relent.

The first bite was disastrous, not able to open her mouth wide enough and ended up with her nose shoved into the top layer. Fatso chuckled at her embarrassment but asked how she liked it. Jane admitted it wasn't bad, and grew more fond the odd taste with every bite. It took awhile to finish since she was a generally slow eater anyway, but also because she was excited about the new flavor she had discovered. Fatso then began questioning her, and she knew he had a suspicion of her eating habits.

"Jane, tell me why you were so…off at dinner last night," he said slowly, searching for the right words.

Jane chewed the rest of her sandwich and swallowed. If she told him why she had been so cautious around food she would probably slip up and reveal more than necessary.

But since it's Fatso…

The thought was brief, but held more emotion than she dare show. He was becoming a dear friend now, and she really didn't want to hide anything. Plus, if she lied, she had no doubt he would catch on in an instant. Her mind made up, she gave him a shy smile.

"Hope you don't mind if I kinda launch into story…"

Fatso grinned, shifting in his seat to settle deeper and more comfortably. He waved his hand in a 'go on' motion.

"Well, it all started out before I was born," she began, leaning back as well. "My mother had always been a sort of health freak. Her three other sisters, my aunts but they're all dead now, all had children that had turned into fat drunks by the time they were fifteen. My mother swore never to fall in their footsteps and would raise her children better."

Fatso slapped his belly and gave her a pointed look, but the gleam in his eye gave away his mock. Smiling, she continued.

"Anyway, later on she met my father and then they had me. I was born healthy, a bald seven pounder with a head the size of a melon." She stopped to listen to Fatso deep laugh and then continued. "My mother was fine back then, feeding me natural milk until moving on to canned baby food. It was only when my father was diagnosed with cancer that she began to change."

The sad, far away look in her eyes told Fatso dietary habits were not the only thing that had changed. But with a sudden spark of strength, as if she had caught herself about to go off the deep end, Jane met his gaze and began speaking again.

"I was four when he died, and my mother went insane. Well, maybe not insane to the eyes of the public. They only thought she was 'overprotective'. But I knew better."

Fatso watched her eyes harden, a shadow casting over her face as she lowered her head, eyes looking down to the side.

"It started with minor things, stuff I didn't really think were that big a deal as a kid. She started making meals a bit more strict, any sweets I had only tasted began disappearing from the cabinets. I hadn't minded at first, after all, 'mommy knows best'." She used air quotes as she once again met his eyes.

"It was only after I entered kindergarten did I realize things were wrong. One day I heard her talking over the phone to someone about home schooling me. I had heard about home schooling once before when a boy from my class got taken out after a few weeks into the school year. Time went by after that call and I stopped worrying since she made no further movement to do anything. Later on in my life I realized it had been my grandmother on the other line and had talked my mother out of the idea. But a couple months later when I broke my arm, grandmother was ignored and I was pulled out."

She lifted her arm then, and Fatso could see a very faint white line going from her elbow all the way down to her wrist.

"I fell from a tree while playing with some friends. My arm got caught on a broken limb and tore it open. I was young though, so it healed up nicely."

Fatso floated closer to inspect her slightly marred skin. He had never noticed it before and assumed her personal makeup team had something to do with it.

"And after this, your mom took ya out of school?"

Her life didn't seem so bad…

"Yes, and not only was I not allowed to go back after I got better, she wouldn't let me out of the house. I couldn't play with my friends, go out to the store with her…nothing."

Okay, that's pretty bad.

"I was sort of a prisoner, I guess. By then, as you know, I had already starred in my role as Sally in Darts and Devils. Even though I was little, it still left my mom with a nice chunk of change. She had no real use of it until a couple months after being pulled out of school. One of her friends visiting had commented on how sickly I looked. When my mother noticed how pale I was as well, she used that money to make me a sun room."

She took on a sort of bitter-sweet look, and Fatso deducted that probably the happiest moments in her life had ensued in that sun room. She straightened in her chair only to slump forward and place her elbows on the table. She was wrapping up, and Fatso knew she would be a little more vague with her past.

"And so that's pretty much why I'm like this. My grandmother, the angel, she was the one who kept my hopes up of a world outside that house. She brought me sweets and little knick-knacks, told me stories. When I turned eighteen, she died, and I was quick to move out into her house since my acting career had skyrocketed. Mom kept a tight leash, though."

She was referring to James, the man everyone expected her to marry. Fatso knew the rest already, but the only thing he didn't understand was why she had ended up here. It might have just been a hunch, but he was sure her coming here was no accident. He just couldn't figure it out. Later on in his death he would smack himself for not realizing the answer when it was right in front of him. But for now, he remained not-so-blissfully ignorant of how this woman and the trio's fates were crossed.

They sat in silence for awhile, Fatso storing all of the information he had just received in his memory to dissect later. Jane slumped in half relief half exhaustion. It had been great to be able to tell someone what she had been through, but reliving it, even through an edited tale, made her realize just how much of her life had been wasted in partial loneliness. It was depressing.

"Hey, how 'bout we go to your room?"

Jane looked up, her brows furrowed in confusion and eyes filled with shock. He realized how that had sounded and was quick to amend.

"To watch some of your movies I meant. The director's commentary is nice, but I want to hear what you think."

Jane flushed, ashamed of what thoughts had entered her mind when he had first made the suggestion. Smiling shyly she nodded and they made their way upstairs.

XxXxXxXxX 4 hours later….

Fatso booming laugh could be heard throughout Whipstaff, echoing off its walls constantly. When the echo had reached the farthest bits of the mansion, seeming to fade, it would start right back up again from the source.

Jane couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so hard, waterproof mascara barely holding up as tears of joy streamed from her squinted eyes. Fatso was right there with her (obviously louder and more obnoxious) rolling around on her bed. Every once in awhile he would pass through her, and other times he became solid, knocking her off. She would always get up, preparing to push him off, and just like every other time she would go right through him, crashing down to the opposite side of the floor.

He had chosen one of the lesser genres she appeared in. Comedy. Inside she thanked him for not picking one of her more raunchy movies, the ones she always ended up being cast in because of her supposedly knock-out body. Thin was in, and the dietary habits her mother had drilled into her head had stuck. Speaking of thin…

She looked down at her body, lip curling a bit. She needed to start running again and eating more. She remembered the road leading to Whipstaff, guesstimating it to be a roughly five mile run before intersecting with a more populated road. It wasn't much, but it would be safe. She couldn't risk anybody in town recognizing her.

Turning her attention back to the screen, she cringed as a supposedly romantic scene began between her and another actor.

"So what was it like kiss'n…uh, what's-his-name?"

Jane laughed at his falter, but didn't blame him. She didn't know the guys name either. This leading role had been his last, his career having died off a while back and never seen in show biz again. The cocky bastard was too full of himself for anyone to hire him, and maybe if he had realized that sooner his job could have been salvaged. He was a decent enough actor, but directors did not have enough patience to deal with short temper.

She made a face, and he laughed.

"Honestly, it was pretty gross. The scene called for a kiss that would show Sarah how much he loved her, and that jackass thought that meant tongue."

Fatso grimaced with her, then asked how many scenes it had taken.

"I think five of just the kiss, and then afterwards-I still can't believe this-he had the nerve to ask me out!"

Jane still smiled sadistically as she remembered his face when she rejected him. His smile (like he had it all in the bag even before he asked her) dropped like a ton of bricks, and she'd left him there with that slack jaw and look of utter disbelief.

Fatso continued commenting and asking questions as they finished the second movie. When it was over, he put both of them away and sprawled back onto her bed.

Their idle chatting was random at best, both content with the long silences in between.

That is, until Jane got curious.

"So, tell me about you and your brothers. You all don't really…"

"Look the same?" he finished for her, and she nodded shyly.

He smiled, but at the same time heaved a tired sigh. He didn't really feel like bringing up his brothers because of their recent fight, but Jane wanted to know, and so he grudgingly complied.

"It wasn't just the three of us ya know. Casper's dad, J.T., was with us too, but he crossed over as soon as he died. Anyway, the reason we don't look all that similar is because our dad sort of…got around."

He wiggled his eyebrows in a 'if you get my drift' sort of way, making her crack a smile.

"Stretch was born first when dad accidentally got his girlfriend pregnant. They weren't really even a couple then, more like on and off sex. So around he same time he was born, dad had already knocked up another woman he had been seeing behind Stretch's mother's back. When the two women found out their babies had the same father, they both left him and their kids. They were bitches is what dad used to say. It didn't really matter though, he was rolling in his family fortune and just dropped the weight of being a parent on the maids."

Jane listened with rapt attention, hanging onto his every word. He chuckled inwardly at how gullible she must be, having been sheltered most of her life. He wasn't lying though, every word was true, but he was sure many people probably played with her trust more often than not.

"And then he met me and Stinkie's mom, Rosaline. He fell in love and didn't cheat on her, but she was so sweet, he hated sharing her. He didn't like us when we were born, and he didn't like it when she coddled Stretch and J.T."

Jane could hear the bitterness in his voice and wanted to hug him. Sure, she had grown up without a father, but theirs had just flat out ignored them, maybe even resented them.

He ended his tale with how their mother died when they were all in their teens, how his dad had died from depression, and how they inherited the whole fortune. What he said next made his voice crack with a saddened happiness, and Jane found herself choked up as well.

"We went to the hearing of the will, and on the back was a little scratched note. The last thing we ever got from our dad. "I'm sorry, and I love you all." Dad had never been good with words, but we all knew what he meant. He was sorry for everything."

Jane couldn't restrain herself anymore and finally took his hand in hers. Cold met heat, and the air between them became mixed into a chilly warmth. They both smiled, raw with emotion and understanding. They were one more step closer in their friendship, and a bond had already begun to form.

When the tension died down, Jane began specifying her questions about his family.

"So, who took after your dad? I saw that you and Stinkie had the same eyes, but Stretch…his are purple."

"Oh yeah, Stretch's violet eyes. Well, there are a lot of theories people come up with but I stick with how the color is determined by the amount of melanin pigment the eye has and those variations in single nucleotide polymorphisms near the OCA2 gene."

Jane stared, jaw slack and bewilderment written across her face at how casually and off-handedly he had said it. Fatso briefly imagined a dunce hat on her head. Her reaction was priceless!

"In other words, a mutation," he chuckled. And before she could say anything, he continued. "Him and J.T. got them from dad, and that's where Casper got his shade of blue eyes. Me and Stink got ours from our mom."

A knock at the door startled them, and they both composed themselves just as Casper poked his head in.

"Jane, we're gonna eat some lunch- Uncle Fatso?"

Fatso floated to his nephew and roughly rubbed his bald head.

"Lunch? Great! I'm starve'n!"

Jane was quick to follow, giving Casper an embarrassed smile as she passed him.

Casper just floated there in confusion.

XxXxXxXxX

The first five minutes of lunch was awkward to say the least. Dr. Harvey was in an out of town session, and Kat was still at school. It was only her, Casper, Stinkie, and Fatso.

Stinkie was eating quietly, not liking it when he didn't have Stretch to talk to. Normally, he would be talking with Fatso when Stretch was away, but doing so now would be traitorous. Those two were fighting, and speaking to either one of them now would only cause more trouble. During these times, he was really glad Casper was around. Not that he didn't like his nephew all the other times, but he was truly grateful to have the short sheet around when he was lonely. He listened, almost never spoke harshly, and Stinkie would always feel like some part of his old self again. He was very grateful for him, but that didn't mean Casper had to know that.

Leaning back further into his chair he contemplated leaving before glancing up at Jane. She was eating slowly, a plain ham sandwich he noted, listening to Fatso go on about something or other. His eyes narrowed slightly with annoyance.

She was the reason they were fighting. It was all her fault things were getting stirred up around here…

His anger quickly diminished however when he realized how ridiculous he was being. Of course it wasn't her fault, she just happened to accidentally stumble into the lives (or rather afterlives) of the wrong people. He continued to stare, taking in her appearance. He had only been able to catch fleeting glances of her ever since her stay, and forced to show no interest during meals. If Stretch had caught him eyeing her, he was sure to give him hell.

And then, out of no where, Stinkie was hit with the sense that he knew this person.

Not knew as in he had seen her previously in passing, but knew her.

Personally.

Jane's attention finally strayed from Fatso and immediately sensed his eyes. Her own snapped up, catching him before he could look away.

The fire of recognition blazed brighter as she held his gaze. A warmth, unlike anything he'd ever felt seared through his ghostly form leaving him feeling like he had been punched in the gut, his torso convulsing forward as if to launch over the table. The abrupt urge to be near her made him gape like a fish, and anyone passing might of thought he was about to throw up.

Jane had watched the bizarre reaction unfold, her entire body tensed to flee. She could see the recognition in his eyes and feared he had figured out who she was. But then another emotion had flickered. It was dim, but definitely there. It was sort of mix between disbelief and…happiness? No, it was something deeper than that. It was almost the same look he had given her, only tamer…

"What's wrong with you?" Fatso exclaimed, effectively scaring Stinkie out of his chair.

Jane jumped as well, emitting a small squeak.

"Nuth'n!" Stinkie shot back angrily, but his tone was slightly shaking.

Fatso eyed him skeptically as he returned to his chair. He was about to say something when Casper came in.

"Uncle Fatso, Dr. Harvey just called. He said he wanted you to come to Augusta."

Rolling his eyes in annoyance Fatso excused himself from Jane and followed Casper out the door. Rarely, Dr. Harvey would ask him to help with new patients. Mostly for comic relief though, and Casper was usually there to help with the soothing.

And after the two other apparitions left, Stinkie and Jane found themselves utterly, and awkwardly alone.

Jane hesitantly picked up her sandwich and continued eating while Stinkie argued with himself to just leave without a word or stay. His choice was made for him however when Jane spoke.

"So…where's Stretch?"

Her question had caught him off guard, and he found himself blurting the truth.

"Him and Fatso are fighting."

"Really? Why?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Stinkie went silent, looking up at her and pondering how (or if) he should tell her.

Might as well not beat around da bush…

" 'Cuz a you," he stated quietly.

Her face dropped slowly, the words sinking in and taking any light from her face down with them. When she spoke, her voice was shaking with hurt and confusion.

"Why?"

He cursed her tone, sounding as if she was breaking. He couldn't be loud and obnoxious when she was like this. He was turning back into the softy he'd always been. The wannabe tough guy who tried to stumble in his oldest brother's footsteps. What was with this woman? Why were all his habits from life suddenly rushing back?

"I don't really know why. I guess 'cuz Fatso seems ta be get'n close ta ya's, an Stretch tinks he's gonna choose you's over da family."

And that was the truth, whether or not Stinkie realized it.

Jane's face was absolutely ashen now. The thought of her being the reason of a rift forming between a family absolutely sickened her. The silence had gotten awkward again, and Jane's acting instincts took over. Giving a slightly sad smile she excused herself from the table, swiftly and masterfully exiting the uncomfortable atmosphere.

Stinkie watched her go at first with a feeling of loss, but his sad face quickly began to turn red as his eyes accidentally wandered down to the gentle sway of her hips. He nervously gulped, remaining in his chair until he calmed down.

That had always been something he had never been able to even come close to when trying to be like Stretch. It was the most nerve wracking thing in the world to him, and he still didn't know how Stretch could be so smooth about it. It was secretly his greatest fear.

Dealing with women.

XxXxXxXxX

Jane sluggishly wandered down the halls of Whipstaff, wanting to move around rather than be immobile and depressed in her room. The sudden news of her being here was causing problems had really come as a shock. She was an annoyance…and that really hurt. Needing time to think, she began walking through all the previously unexplored halls in hopes of finding some inspiration to ease her troubles.

She was quick to find out that Whipstaff was a bit larger than she expected, and as if fate decided to mess with her, Jane finally admitted she was lost. The winding hallways and secret passages were all confusing, and she couldn't remember which direction she had come from. Doing a three-sixty hadn't helped either, now frustrated that there were three doors in which she could have came from. Taking a deep breath, Jane finally came to a rational decision.

Just keep going forward.

That may have not been the best option, but it seemed to work for a good while. She passed a couple rooms that looked to have not been cleaned in years, and then just beside them she stumbled upon a play room. It was such a stark contrast to all the others that she almost thought she was hallucinating. It was built for a young boy, she guessed, or any child with a wide ranged taste for toys. It was so bright and innocent she almost felt that if she did anything more than look, all that the room stood for would shatter. So with great reluctance, Jane moved on.

She had gone down two other halls and one secret passage before stumbling into a much larger room lined with multitudes of doors. For a brief moment she felt like Alice in Wonderland. Letting out a breath of amazement, Jane took in all the shapes, colors, and designs that covered each door. Some were normal, the same height as others in the house, but then there were smaller ones, some even as small as windows. She slowly approached a few, caressing the odd nooks and crannies in the masterfully sculpted wood.

And that was when she heard it.

It was a just a shadow of a whisper, echoing faintly within the room as it searched for somewhere to go. The enclosed room muddled the sound quite a bit, but Jane's hearing was just keen enough to pick up that it was…music. A piano to be precise. But…who would be playing?

Curious, Jane listened intently, trying to find which door led to the source. After walking around in a circle, she sharply turned and headed to the left side of the room. Yes, it was definitely stronger there.

Now she just needed to find out which door to go through.

Hesitantly she took hold of the knob of a pale green door, opening it slowly. Surprise lit up her face when she found that nothing lie beyond, just the smooth surface of a blue wall. Turning to another one, she found it to reveal the same result. Confused and a little frustrated, Jane opened a third door, grunting when she was again met with nothing. Standing between two doors now, Jane took their handles and pulled at the same time. She was relieved when both had hallways but then saw that they each went in a different direction.

Eyes shifting between them, Jane started down the hallway of the right door. A few feet in she realized she had chosen wrong and quickly made her way back to the other door. Almost tip-toeing, paranoid she would be caught, Jane made her way down the corridor. The sharp turns were making her a bit dizzy, and she could of swore it was just leading her in a circle. But the music was getting louder, more pronounced, and so was her curiosity.

Nearing the end of the enclosed hall, Jane realized it had gotten smaller. Her head was about two feet from the ceiling and her arms were slightly bent at the elbow when reaching out to the walls. But by the time she reached the end, the ceiling had slanted up again and stopped at a door. It was a sort of oval shape, painted a simple white that seemed to glow in its shady surroundings. Stopping, Jane finally became less paranoid of being caught and focused in on the music.

It was…unlike anything she had ever heard before. The notes were drawn, light and pure. But then sharp notes that seemed almost out of place and yet fit would come out of no where in short bursts. It was sweet, but left a bitter taste in her mouth. Like a lie…but no, that wasn't it. The harshness of it was deliberate, not hidden, as if the piano player wanted them to be aware of it. The sound was…

Sarcastic.

Jane suddenly knew who was playing and tried to turn back the way she came. But then the music ceased, and she froze mid turn. She stopped breathing, squeezing her eyes shut and straining her ears for any sign of movement.

And then it started up again. Jane let out the breath she'd been holding and was about to leave when she noticed the music had changed. It was slower than before, and absolutely no bitterness was detected.

It was…sad.

The notes were not low however, but were an octave higher than the piece before. It seemed as if the pianist was trying to keep himself up, but failing. It was depressing, melancholy, heartbreaking…

And the most beautiful thing she had ever heard.

Overcome with emotion, Jane carefully sat down in front of the door. Twin tracks of tears slid down her face lightly, unable to help herself. It was so overwhelming her knees had almost buckled.

This man was able to move someone to tears with just a simple stroke of the keys. A flick of his wrist and people would go weak at the knees. Such talent…

So why had he thrown it all away?

Closing her eyes, Jane swayed slightly to the rhythm. Without realizing it, her head leaned back into the door, making a barely audible 'thud'.

That was a mistake.

There was no time to register the music stopping before Jane was frozen in fear by two blazing, violet eyes. His bottom eyelids twitched, nose flared, and bottom lip trembled with anger.

Stretch was absolutely livid.

"Why. Are. You. Here?" he spat in a hissing whisper. Jane found herself wanting him to yell rather than be so quiet. It would scare her less.

She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"Answer me!" he half shouted, voice raspy in irritation. He suddenly grasped the front of her shirt, yanking her up.

The sudden movement jarred Jane out of her shocked state. She was abruptly flooded with anger, grasping his ghostly hands and tried to pry them away.

"Let go!"

Stretch tightened his grip, using his other hand to grasp both of Jane's wrists together. Roughly he pushed her against the corridor's wall. He was forceful, but Jane noticed quickly that she hadn't been hurt. It seemed he was holding back his strength.

"Why should I? Huh? Tell me why I should let you's go and brainwash all da rest a da family?"

"Just let me explain!"

"Oh what? So now you gonna try ta convince me with some bull shit? I shoulda kicked yer skinny ass out on da street the first time I saw you! Every ting was fine till you showed up, and now-!"

"I came here to apologize!"

Stretch stopped his ranting. Jane stared at him with anger and hope as he examined her face. Even though her eyes were red and puffy from crying, he could see the sincerity within. It pissed him off that she was being truthful, but Jane began talking again before he could say anything.

"I'm sorry…" she began softly. "You should have told me I was so much trouble. I…I'm not sure how, but some how I'm the cause of you and Fatso fighting. S-so if you want me to leave…then I will."

Stretch stared after she finished, searching for any lie he could build off of. But there was none.

Heaving a sigh he let her go. Out of habit he ran a hand exasperatedly through where his hair use to be. Jane slumped slightly against the wall, voice a bit stronger now.

"I mean it, I'm sorry. If you want me to leave-"

"Shut up! Just…stop." Stretch said sharply, but ended gently. He looked down into her pleading eyes and sighed again.

"Look, none of dis is yer fault. You don't gotta go."

He looked down as he said this, embarrassment trying to be disguised as annoyance.

"So…you and Fatso…"

"What happened between us had nuth'n to do with you's, all right?"

Jane nodded and they stood there in an awkward silence. But this new awkwardness was good, a step in a better direction. Finally, she spoke again.

"That was very beautiful, what you played," Jane muttered.

Stretch glanced at her, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Yeah, I can tell ya really liked it by da way you's was cry'n yer eyes out."

Jane smiled at his sarcasm, then grew a bit bolder.

"I would like to listen to you again, the next time you play. Could I?"

Stretch frowned, and she feared he was going to lash out again. But after a moment, he seemed to have thought things over. His answer was hesitant, and surely against his better judgment.

"Yeah…sure. Maybe next time."

XxXxXxXxX

It was dinner time again when Jane sat down with everyone. Fatso was chatting once more with her about his trip, James cutting in every once in awhile to get the story straight. Everyone became silent however when Stretch floated in and stopped next to Fatso. The tension between them was almost visible.

Stretch raised his hand, and Fatso glared, daring him to strike.

But he did no such thing.

With a quick couple flicks of the wrist, Stretch slapped him lightly in the face in an affectionate way. He didn't look into Fatso's shocked eyes, but glanced downward in what one could almost say embarrassment. He then moved to his seat next to Stinkie and began eating. Fatso's face lit up with a smile, giving his brother a warm look. Stretch avoided it, but the brother's all knew it had been his way of saying sorry.

Stinkie tried not to look at Stretch, so his gaze moved across the table to Jane. As soon as their eyes locked, he knew she had been the reason for the fight ending. She must have said something to make Stretch realize he had been in the wrong.

As if to confirm his suspicions, Jane smiled secretly, and then winked. He quickly looked away after that, becoming quite interested in how fast he could shove food in his mouth. But now, whatever he hadn't liked about Jane before was gone. It looked like things were going to be all right. In the long run, his brothers seemed to have developed a slightly better attitude towards each other, and he was glad none of his feelings had been jeopardized.

Well, his feelings towards his family at least.

He was soon about to learn that feelings towards Jane would be a whole different battlefield.