Chapter Twenty-One

An Invitation To Spoon

(Ryan)

"I'm drunk. I'm definitely, defffff-enettlee drunk."

"You're such a lightweight."

"How - how, how are you not compleeeeetely plastered?"

One arm wrapped around her waist, the other holding onto her hand that was thrown over my shoulder. Unbeknownst to her, that's how I was managing to stay upright and feign sobriety. Also unbeknownst to her? The entire room was spinning and I was about ready to rip off my pants and jump her bones right then and there. Oh God yes.

With a little giggle, Lo nuzzled her face into my arm, walking sloppily in step with me. We were potentially eighteen thouuuusand miles away from the elevator, but that was alright. Who needed an elevator when you're walking through a fancy shmancy hotel with the hottest piece of arm candy the world has ever seen. Hmm? Who needs em? Not us. Hells no, not us. That bellhop was admiring our ridiculously attractive slinky sexy strutting, not gawking in horror at our drunken stumbling. That's what my plastered mind kept telling my common sense, anyways.

"I can hold my alcohol," I explained, blinking furiously to try and slow the whirling lobby. "Unlike you, Miss Oh-No-I'm-A-Good-Drinker-I-Never-Get-Drunk."

Harlow laughed and gave me a swat on the chest. "Oh shush. I didn't say that."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did."

"Not."

"So did."

She grinned, stopping dead in the middle of the lobby. At first I'd thought she'd passed out, which frankly wouldn't have been that big of a surprise. But imagine my shock when I turned around, only to see her eyeing me fiercely, cheeky little grin lighting up that perfect face. She grabbed the front of my jacket, pulled me so close our noses rubbed against each other's. She smiled, that perfectly saucy, naughty little beam I loved so much, and ran a hand up and down my shirt. Quite provocatively, may I add.

"Alright," she sighed, giving my side a light pinch. "Maybe I lied. I'm not very good with alcohol."

"This is my surprised face," I said blandly, tightening my grasp around her small waist. "See? I'm shocked. Just shocked."

She laughed, wrapping her arms gently around my neck. I nestled my face into her slight shoulder, that sweet vanilla and coconut scent now tinged with the poignant odor of vodka. I wanted to stay there forever, nuzzled against her warm skin. I could hear the beating of her heart, feel the faint thump of her pulse against my cheek. When I kissed her jawline, her neck, I could almost taste the warmth and sweet smell I loved so dearly.

She ran her lips along the top of my ear, her cheek warm against my own. "I'm so tired - let's go upstairs."

UHM, THOSE LAST THREE WORDS WERE THE THREE WORDS I'D BEEN WAITING MY ENTIRE LIFE TO HEAR. YAH. LET'S GO.

RIGHT NOW NOW NOW.

(Katrina)

"Psst. Pst. Katrina. Katrina. Katrina!"

"Heather. You know I'm awake. You've been heckling me every five minutes for the last two hours."

"Whaddaya think Harlow and Ryan are doing?"

"I don't know. And I don't care."

Light flooded the room, and I winced in horrific pain - blindly, I grabbed my pillow and threw it over my face, attempting with little luck to fend away the unexplained brightness now illuminating our hotel room. Listen to me, and listen to me good: I swear to God, this was the last time I would ever share a room with Heather Taddy. EVER.

"I know what they're doing," she said cheekily, and I felt the edge of my bed sag under Heather's ass.

"Go to bed."

"I'm in bed!"

"Go back to your own bed."

"You know what they're doing?"

"It's like one in the morning, Heather."

"They're probably doing each other."

"Can you not?"

"You know I'm right."

"Turn the light off."

"I like light."

"I hate it, turn it off."

"You're such a grump. Hey, hey. Why do you think Harlow didn't do the walk through tonight?"

"I don't know. Maybe like me and the rest of the world, she was too tired."

"I'm not tired."

"That was a hint to shut up and leave me alone."

"But even if she were tired, why do you think she'd back out of it?"

"I don't know. Maybe Ryan told her she didn't need to."

"I doubt Ryan would have done that. He's all about getting as much info on a place as he can, and who better to get all the teensy little details then Lo?"

"I don't know. Maybe she'll do it tomorrow."

"Michelle's doing it tomorrow!"

"Then I don't know."

"You think it's tiring?"

"What, being friends with you?"

"No, I know that's tiring. I mean being a psychic."

"Considering I'm not, I haven't the faintest idea."

"I think it would be."

"I'm so thrilled for you."

"Can you imagine? You're not only thinking for yourself, but for hundreds, maybe even thousands of other people all at the same time."

"The thought of it exhausts me, I should probably go to bed."

"Would you want to be a medium? Like if you had the option, would you?"

"I'd like to be asleep more."

"I don't think I would .. like if they offered me the power of mediumship or like .. the power of super farts. I think I'd choose superfarts. A lot less stressful, don't you think?"

Not even willing to dignify that with a response, I rolled over onto my side, shielding the light a little better then before. Heather nattered on, but my thoughts were elsewhere.

Ryan and Harlow had met up with Tad, Sergey, Eilfie, Josh and I when we all got back to the hotel about three hours ago. Michelle'd been in bed since nine. Josh and Eilfie took off to go get some Pagan beauty sleep, while Serge, Tad and I decided to hit the hotel's restaurant and grab a little something to eat before hittin' the old sack. Harlow and Ryan had left for the bar - and that was the last we'd seen of either of them. As far as I knew, the two little lovebirds were still down there. Or maybe Tad was right? Maybe they were busy - gettin' busy, more like it.

Ah well. As long as they were havin' fun.

As horrifically annoying as it was sharing a room with Heather, she made some valid and slightly interesting points. Why wouldn't have Ryan asked Harlow to go through with the walk through? Had he thought better of it? Had she declined? I'd ask him tomorrow, I suppose. And if she'd refused, why? Was what Heather said right? Is it really that exhausting being a medium? Would a walk through have been too much?

I'd always wondered, ever since I was little, what it would be like to see ghosts. I always thought it'd be kind of cool, you know? To be able to see people who weren't really there. Talk to people from hundreds of years ago. Have a special gift that practically no one else in the world had. But would it really have been that great? After meeting Harlow, I had second guesses. Look what it'd done to her friendships. Look how hard she tried to hide it. I could still remember the look of exhaustion on her face as we left the house this evening. Ryan had told me she'd spent the majority of the day trying to fend off antagonistic spirits - that hardly sounded fun.

Exhaustion once again flooding my whole body, I rolled over, this time almost flat on my stomach, face smushed into the poofy hotel pillow. Most people - or should I say, most sane people - would take this a hint to get the fuck away from me. Unfortunately, Heather is not most people. Nor is she sane. In Taddy's messed up little brain, it seemed me rolling over, exposing my ass was actually an invitation. To spoon me. Jee. Suss. CHRIST.

"Heather?"

"Mmhmm?"

"Get off me."

"We're snuggling."

"I don't want to snuggle, I want to sleep."

"Shhh ... just close your eyes."

"I'm going to start punching the air and flailing in ten seconds. Get off me, or you're going to be on the end of my fist."

"Do it, I dare you."

"Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven."

"My brother threatened to punch me all the time, I'm not scared."

"Six. Five. Four. Three."

"The longer you count, the harder I'm going to nuzzle into your back."

"Two. One. Zero."

THUNK.

"OWWWWW KATRINA! YOU BITCH!"

(Michelle)

"Maybe one of us should go up there?"

"I'm sure they're fine."

"Yeah, but what if they died? Should I go up there?"

"Trust me Tad," Eilfie said restlessly, downing her third mug of coffee. "If anyone's going to have to go and wake them up, it's gonna be anyone at this table but you."

"Here here," Katrina grunted, eyes swollen with exhaustion.

"I don't know why you're all grumpy," I said chipperly, peeling a delicious little chunk off of my scone. "I slept great."

"That's because you didn't have Heather demanding a slumber party for four hours," Kat muttered, stifling a yawn in her hands.

"Or Sergey singing Russian lullabies to himself at three in the morning," Josh mumbled.

"Sorry, I was trying to drown out your snoring," Serge said irritably.

"Next time, Ryan's springing for separate rooms," Katrina sighed.

"Where are they?" Heather tisked, fidgeting restlessly in her seat - she, for the most part, seemed perfectly fine with little to no sleep.

I swear, the girl had crack running through her veins, not blood. I don't think I'd ever seen her less than frantically hyper.

The six of us were seated in the breakfast room of the spacious Roosevelt Hotel. In my humble opinion, there was no such thing as a bad hotel, but one's that served continental breakfasts? Without a doubt, five stars. Maybe even six. Or twenty. There was just something so deliciously impressive about free day old donuts on grungy countertops. Seated around me, five of the youngsters were groggy, ashen faced and yawning - which didn't give me high hopes for the investigation. How thorough can we be when half the crew is passed out on the floor? Hoping for the best, I peered over at the large open doorway across from me - we had been waiting for almost twenty minutes now, and there was still no sign of either Ryan, or the girl named Harlow.

I'd crashed early, about nine o'clock, and woken up briskly at eight. Whenever I had psychic walk-throughs to do, or knew I had a long day ahead of me, I tried to hit the sack a little early, and wake up even earlier - kept me awake, focused. I didn't mind waiting - the longer we sat here, the more I could prepare. As I munched on my scone and took a hearty swig of coffee, I noticed an odd expression pass over Elf's face and the corners of her mouth twitch upwards. Her eyes were suddenly glittering rather mischievously - Pagans. They were so strange sometimes.

"There they are."

I peered up again, and felt the hot coffee in my throat burn and the scone threaten to claw it's way back up my esophagus. So that's what the team had meant.

A couple had walked idly into the room, one of the pair I recognized, the other I didn't. Ryan, although there were deep bags under his eyes, looked rather cheerful and wide awake. His hair was still slightly damp from an earlier shower, and his hands were full of journals, tape recorders and pens. Next to him, falling slightly behind him in step, was a girl I presumed must've been Harlow, a single notepad clutched in her hands.

She was looking a bit groggy, but in a way so sickeningly magnificent it made everyone at the table look like zombies who hadn't eaten a brain in weeks. There were faint bags beneath her eyes, but they could hardly be noticed for the brilliant green that sparkled above them. Her face was a creamy tan, slightly rouge on the cheeks, complete with an incredibly sharp jaw line that chiseled her face into something so unreal, it exceeded perfection. Deep brown hair twisted into a messy french knot, long, lean body walking as light as air next to Ryan. She was a human being - she had to be. But she was also the closest thing to inhuman beauty I'd ever seen.

Sweet Mother Mary.

With unnatural finesse, she and Ryan walked up to the table and took a seat at the two remaining chairs. Ryan directly to my left, Harlow the seat over between him and Sergey. I saw Serge's face pale horrifically, and exchanged a shrewd but understandable glance with Josh - I had to bite back a laugh.

"About time," Heather huffed, piling little cream containers into a milky pyramid of goodness before her. "We thought you'd died."

"No, you thought they'd died," Katrina clarified, rolling her eyes. "Sleep well?"

"Never in a hotel," Ryan responded, turning to me. "Sorry I'm late - Michelle especially, my apologies. You're a guest, I didn't mean to keep you waiting."

"The longer I waited, the more scones I got to inhale," I said, attempting to stop staring awkwardly at the petite girl seated next to him.

She caught my eye and smiled, a dazzling, knee buckling grin that caught me completely off guard. She scooted over a bit on her chair, extended her hand politely.

"I'm Harlow," she said, a voice smooth as honey. "You must be Michelle - Ryan's told me all about you, I was so excited to finally get to meet you!"

An earnest compliment, it took all my will and concentration to look away from her charming face and offer my hand back to shake her dainty one lightly - I felt like if I squeezed too hard or shook it too quickly, I'd break her. Tiny little thing, she was.

"It's a pleasure," I said, with a slightly stupefied smile - alright, maybe I shouldn't have laughed at Sergey. "I've heard many a great thing about you, Miss Vincent."

She grinned again, cheeks glowing a little brighter. "Too kind."

"Can I get you anything for breakfast, Lo?" Heather asked, and I swear I saw her eyelashes flutter across the table. Weirdo.

Harlow smiled, but shook her head politely, putting a hand on her stomach. "Thanks, but I think I'll hold off - the kajillion lime and vodka's still aren't sitting very well."

"Nothing?" Ryan asked her, leaning a little closer to her in his chair. "I thought breakfast was the most important meal of the day? You're shaming your fellow athletes, Lo."

She rolled her eyes and gave his shoulder a playful little shove. "Thanks Coach, but I'll grab something after."

"Are you coming down to the house with us?" Eilfie asked.

Harlow shook her head, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear - I saw Serge's eyes go strangely blank. "Not until later, after supper. I've got to write out the reports of my evaluations on the family - for the case file and for class. I'd rather get it done before I get back home, otherwise that's one more thing I'll neglect doing until an hour before it's due."

I laughed, ripping another little chunk off my scone - I wasn't really hungry anymore, it was more to just keep my hands busy.

"You'll miss all the fancy shmancy production crap that goes on," I said. "Not to mention the Kraft food tables ... my favorite part."

She laughed, but shook her head. "Production doesn't interest me so much. Napping and tapping away at a laptop for six hours - there's where the real fun is."

Katrina leaned over the table and began to converse cheerfully with Harlow, as Heather bobbed frantically and chipperly beside her. Josh spoke in a hushed conversation with Serge and Ryan, while Elf excused herself to grab another mug of coffee before we headed off. I sat complacently, gnawing a bit at my scone, sneaking quick little peeks over at Harlow.

I'd met a lot of psychics in my day - perhaps more than anyone else. And usually, unless they mentioned it or said something about their ability, it was impossible to tell who was a medium and who wasn't. But there was something about Harlow, meek but pleasant, shy but a presence, that gave away her little gift. I'm sure if I'd never met her, it might have been a little different. I'd still have known there was something about her, but psychic probably wouldn't have been my first guess. But now that I knew what she was? It didn't surprise me in the least.

Most psychics see something called an aura. It's energy, good or bad or evil or saintly. Usually, you see it when you're communicating with spirits. Depending on the type of ghost, their energy would be completely different. But Harlow - she gave off an aura all on her own. Much like a spirit, but a more human, earthy one. It was like there was a constant spotlight following her around. A warm light around her. Something happy, something calm - it just radiated off her. It was peculiar, to say the least.

She seemed to notice me gawking slightly at her, and she smiled shyly. Leaning behind Ryan's chair and resting an arm on the back of it, she moved closer to me, and I could feel the strange glow of her energy warm my entire body - it was quite lovely, truth be told.

"I've been really looking forward to meeting you," she said softly, a happy lop-sided grin on her angelic face. "I've heard so many great things about you, I've been so excited!"

I laughed, more at the fact that even while he was in conversation, Ryan would melt and fall to pieces when she came even within six inches of him. I could see an odd, slightly dopey and vacant expression wash over his face - ah, young love.

"Likewise, really," I said, resting an arm on the back of my own chair. "Chip's told me a lot about you - I have a lot of questions, I'm not going to lie."

She smiled with slight embarrassment, giving her eyes a little roll. "I hope I'm not too much of a disappointment, Chip's got a habit of over-exaggerating things sometimes."

"He wasn't the only one I heard good things from," I assured her, motioning towards the rest of the table, who were all in happy conversation with each other. "Ryan said you were doing a walk-through last night - how'd it go?"

She shook her head, and I saw a wave of exhaustion sweep over her face. "I didn't end up doing one. I was too tired by the end of the day, and well ... I didn't want to go back in the house, to be honest."

I looked at her curiously, knowing fully well she couldn't say much to me regarding the house - Ryan likes us to be completely out of the loop when we have to do walk-throughs. He made me wear a blindfold half the frickin' time, if that's proof enough. She glanced at the back of Ryan's head, and shook her own sadly.

"I know I can't say anything," she said, with a small smile, hands clasped into a tight ball on her lap. "Just .. I don't know how you do them, these walk-throughs. But just make sure you prepare yourself, that's all."

I nodded. "We'll talk more when you get to the home tonight. I don't know how much you picked up on, having not done a tour of the home, but .. "

"I picked up on enough," she said softly. "More than I wanted to."

I nodded again. "I'd love to talk more to you, about our little gift. Anytime you're free or willing."

"We'll make a date of it," she said cheerfully.

I'm aware I'm a woman. And I'm aware Harlow was dating my boss slash friend slash co-worker. But I'd be lying if I said the idea of a date with Miss Vincent didn't excite me just a little.

(Ryan)

"What kind of injury?"

I could feel my heart pounding painfully against my chest - the look on Michelle's face said it all. A look of pure horror, terror and nausea - the same one I'd seen on Harlow's face the evening before. What made it even more intensely horrifying was the production team surrounding us. Mike and Terry, the two cameramen and Sonya the production assistant. They were both staring wide-eyed at Michelle - there wasn't a sound coming from any of of them.

Michelle touched her face, grimaced and simply shook her head. "Head injury .. if you can even call it that."

I didn't even bother to jot it down on my notepad - I'd heard this already. This was just further proof that there was something truly heinous in this home.

"What kind of head injury?" I asked, making a horribly unrealistic attempt at calm indifference.

"He's missing chunks of his face. He's got two eyes, but .. the left side of his face, it seems to be missing."

"Missing?" I choked, but I could hardly calm my spasming heart. "Missing how?"

"It was blown off, it had to have been," Michelle said, and her face was tinged with green - she was staring at a spot in the hallway about ten feet away. "It's like .. there's just a huge, gaping hole in the bottom of his face. He can't speak, he doesn't have a mouth. It looks like it was ... God, I don't even know."

"Could it have been a car accident?" I asked, knowing fully well it wasn't.

"No," Michelle said at once, eyes still fixed in horror at the spot. "No .. this is so much worse then anything a car could do. It looks like he was .. I don't know. Mauled? Maybe a bomb or something, or he was blasted in the face by a shotgun or something. It's .. God, there's no more flesh anywhere, it's just bone and tissue."

I heard a small whimper from Sonya behind me, but I couldn't look away from Michelle. The horrific, transfixed look of terror was identical to the look of Harlow's yesterday. Identical. The same fear, from two different psychics.

Michelle shook her head, dragging her eyes away from the hallway. "I need to get out of here."

I nodded, and along with Mike, Terry and Sonya, we booked it as fast as humanly possible out of the hallway. Next to me, as we made our way into the empty kitchen, Michelle grasped an unsteady hand around my forearm.

"That noise they've been hearing," she said quietly, so the rest of the crew didn't hear. "That's his throat, or whatever's left of it. The gurgling. It's the blood. And the smell - it's the smell of his face."

(Harlow)

I maybe kinda sorta lied when I said typing away on a laptop for six hours was my idea of fun.

Alone at the desk in my hotel room, the Wordpad window was half filled with jumbled nonsense. My brain was elsewhere - no longer concentrating on the words I was trying unsuccessfully to piece together. It was nearly five, and I'd barely made a dent on these stupid evaluations - I don't know how all those writers and journalists and people could concentrate in dingy little hotel rooms. I was finding it nearly impossible.

I leaned back in the cushy chair, glancing over at the messy, unmade bed to my right. I smiled a little, memories from last night flooding back into my head. I had been drunk - most definitely drunker then I'd been in years. But it was a good drunk.

After Ryan and I had left the bar, we'd made a beeline up to my room and crashed on the slightly musty but comfy king size bed in the center of my suite. After what had to have been a good half hour of making out - and some other slightly naughty things - we'd curled up together and talked well into the night. Was I paying for it today? Oh, most definitely. But was it worth it?

Oh hells yes.

Ryan and I had been dating a couple of weeks now, and in complete honesty, it was going so much better then I'd ever had expected. I'd had my share of my boyfriends - probably not as many as some people think. But I'd had a few. The majority of them were, well ... assholes, I guess is the proper word. The people I got involved with always seemed like they cared, wanted to know more about me, wanted to really truly be a part of my life. But it never really ended up that way. Heartbreak after heartbreak, I'd been single for well over two years now.

But with Ryan, there was something so different about it. It was sweet. It was slow. He asked me questions, relentlessly, about myself. Questions about my childhood that I really had to think about. He asked me where my favorite place was that I had lived. What was my best memory from high school, what was my favorite television show. Favorite color, animal, chocolate bar, clothing store. Things no one had ever cared about, he took the time to ask me. And most importantly? He actually remembered.

There was no pressure for sex. No pressure to go out, to do certain things, to hang out with him all the time. There was just sweet, innocent, respectful trust. I'd never had anything like that.

I grinned again, that same ridiculously dopey one I'd had on my face so often lately, and ran a hand through my hair. It felt like a high school romance was supposed to, you know? Slow, sweet. Everything was perfect, moving at a steady pace that made me feel more then comfortable. How many guys do you know that'd get tanked with you, crash in a quaint little hotel room, and not even try to make a move? I knew one.

I hopped off the chair and rolled under the warm covers on the bed. Stupid evaluations, I could do them tomorrow. I just wanted to nap, that's all. Close my eyes, curl up into a little ball. Oh God, warmth. How I loved you, so. Come to me nowwww, sleep - I'm ready to dreaaam -

Briiiing, briiiing!

"Mother fuuuuuu - "

With half a mind to ignore it and just let it go to voicemail, I grudgingly rolled out of the soft duvet and felt around blindly at the floor for my phone. Half hidden under the bed, I grabbed it and brought it to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Harlow Barlow Baby Bear!"

I smiled.

"What's up, Kimmy?"

"You sound sleepy, why are you napping? You're on vaycayyyy, go party and get trashed and sleep with fifty people or somethin', alright?"

"That sounds just like me," I laughed, curling the sheets around my free hand. "Maybe after I finish writing out all the evaluations."

"I swear to God, woman, you don't know how to have fun," she sighed, and although we were thousands of miles away, I swear I could actually hear her eyes rolling.

"So what, you just call to make fun of me? You're a real pal, Kim."

"That's not why I called, that's just an added bonus," she said, but her tone was suddenly airier, uneasy. "I'm actuuuuually calling ... about volleyball."

I sighed. "What about it?"

There was a moment of silence, before she cleared her throat and plunged on. "Well, I know you haven't set any dates for next practice, but - "

"I know, I know," I said, running my hand over my face. "I'm sorry, I know we've got a game in like... less then a week or something, I've been busy. I'll grow some balls and give Sophie a call, plan something."

"Well, that's the thing," she said slowly, and in very unlike Kimmy fashion, she sounded extremely nervous. "Sophie's set the next practice date."

There was more dead silence, this time from both ends of the phone. My brain was going a mile a minute. Sophie set a date for practice? When we were still friends - God, that killed me to say - that kind of initiative would've been lost on Soph. But now?

"I heard about it through Emma," Kimmy explained uneasily. "She was at the Coffee Bean, ran into Natalie and Mickenzie. They said something like 'See you Tuesday', and Em asked what they meant. Told her Sophie set a date for practice. I got a text like an hour ago from Soph, so did Linds."

I said nothing again, but my brain rattled on.

"Did you get a text?" she asked warily, but I think she already knew the answer.

"No," I said, my voice much clearer then I thought it'd be. "No, forgot to text me, I suppose."

"Forgot, yeah," Kimmy said irritably. "Forgot to text the captain. She's a fucking idiot."

"It doesn't matter," I sighed. "It's fine. Tuesday?"

"Yep," Kim said, but her voice was a forced cheery. "Linds and Em and I can pick you up at five, don't worry."

"That'd be great," I said, feigning an even more unconvincing tone of happiness. "I'm catching a plane at ten tomorrow morning, I'll give you a call and we'll talk more when I'm not paying long distance fees out my ass."

She laughed. "Right-o, el Capy-tano. Love you lots, call me later Gator."

"Adios."

I heard her click off the line, and I pressed the little red button on the right of my phone. I let it drop onto the bed beside me. I was staring up at the ceiling, no longer sleepy, but a whole different kind of exhausted. I wasn't sure how I felt, exactly. I thought I was angry, but I was too sad to be. I thought I was upset, but I was too shocked. I thought I was impressed, but I was too indifferent.

To text the entire team a date for practice without talking to me, that's one thing. But had I really expected her to? No, I guess not. But this was life, wasn't it? Life went on. Just because Sophie and I were on the outs, that shouldn't mean the entire volleyball season was ruined for the rest of the girls, right?

Tuesday. That was three days from now.

Maybe in three days, it would hurt less.

I hoped so.

(Katrina)

"But where'z Hair-low?"

"She'll be here in a little bit," I assured Tia, who had applesauce splattered all over her face - I will never understand how kid's can get food plastered up to their freakin' hairline, but somehow they always manage.

"I want to has tea with Hair-low," Tia explained, gnawing at her plastic spoon cheerfully. "We can haz tea againd."

"We can have tea with you," Heather offered. "Katrina and I love tea."

Tia smiled and dropped her spoon on the floor. "No, iz otay. I want to has tea with Hair-low. Bye."

And she scuttled cheerfully out of the room.

From the kitchen sink, Teddy, Ryan and Michelle all laughed heartily at the sour look on Heather's face, but Marie rested a hand lightly on Tad's shoulder.

"It's nothing against you," she assured us. "She loves both of you. There's just something about Harlow."

"Hair-low's got it made," Heather sighed.

"She is coming again, isn't she?" Teddy asked Ryan, a terrifically hilarious look of longing on his pale face. "I - er, Tia, she'd be so upset."

Ryan smiled and nodded, taking a quick glance down at his watch. "Should be here any minute, actually."

"Good," Marie sighed, but there was the same look of panic on her face that we'd seen the moment we'd arrived - it'd only faltered slightly when she'd been able to speak with Harlow. "She'll be here before Marnie takes Tee for the night."

Marnie, Marie's older sister, had volunteered to take Tia for the evening while the rest of the crew, our team, and she and Teddy held dead time. Ryan (and all the rest of us had whole-heartedly agreed) had said it was against everyone's best interest to keep Tia in the house. Especially if the activity was as bad as they had said it was. With Tia gone to a safer, quieter, less active house, we were free to interact as much as we could with the spirits in the home.

Although there were more people in the house - between the new additions of Elf, Josh and Michelle and the rest of the PS crew - there was still an unflappable sense of darkness sucking the light from the home. I couldn't help but be concerned - Marie's face was paler then I'd seen it, and the stress was terribly evident all over her face. Even her hair was hanging limper then usual.

From the front room, Tia began nattering loudly and happily, and there were soft little footsteps growing louder and louder before Tee stepped into the kitchen. Her tiny little hand grasped a soft, slightly larger one, and Harlow padded quietly into the kitchen. She gave everyone a warm smile, and nodded her head slightly guiltily behind her.

"The front door was open," she explained, smiling awkwardly. "Crew moving stuff in, I would've knocked, I'm sorry - "

"Look Ma, Hair-low's coming back for tea!" Tia squealed, face shining with sheer delight.

"I see, dear, I see," Marie said, the anxiety seemingly melting off of her face. "Harlow, sweetheart, it's so nice to see you again!"

"You as well, Marie," she said softly, with a small smile - her eyes were slightly narrowed, however. Clearly it wasn't just me who noticed the stress etched hard on Marie's face. "How are you - er, how is everyone, I should say."

We all waved to her, said our hello's, and Harlow made a small little bee-line to go stand next to Ryan near the fridge. Her back was turned away from the hallway, and I could tell she was still uncomfortable being anywhere near it. Tia was singing loudly, gathering up her toys from the kitchen floor.

"Will you be staying tonight, Harlow?" Teddy asked, looking more at Lo's knees then her face - Harlow pretended not to notice.

"No, unfortunately not," she said apologetically, folding her hands loosely in front of her. "Early flight tomorrow morning. I've got to get back home before the weekend's over. You know, homework to catch up on, essays to write - bills to not pay."

We laughed, but no one harder then Teddy - ah, whatta man.

"We'll be sad to see you go," Marie said with earnest.

"Hair-low, time for tea yet?"

Harlow nodded, smiling down at the curly head of Tia. "How about you go get the tea cups and everything ready? I'll be down there in a couple of minutes, is that alright?"

"Otay," Tia said sadly.

"Here's an idea," Harlow said, kneeling down in front of the woebegone little girl before her. "You know my friends Heather and Katrina?"

Tia nodded, looking over her shoulder at Tad and I curiously.

"Well, here's a little secret," Harlow said softly. "Katrina and Heather love tea, maybe even more then you and I do! How about you show them your tea set and show them how you set everything up, and I'll come and meet you in your room in five minutes?"

Tia smiled, nodding her head - she turned to Heather and I and motioned to the hallway with her tiny little hand. "Come on den, I show you my tea otay!"

"C'MON KATRINA, LET'S GO!" Heather said excitedly, bounding up from her chair and running after Tia down the hallway.

"Marie, would you mind just coming with me for a moment?" Harlow asked politely, motioning out the window into the backyard. "It won't be long, I can't afford to miss out on a tea party."

Marie smiled and nodded, leading the way out into the backyard, Harlow following noiselessly behind her. As I began to walk out of the room, I stole a look over at Ryan - he was looking in polite confusion but earnest interest out into the backyard.

I smiled, stalking out of the kitchen not nearly as quietly as Harlow and down the dark hallway towards Tia's room. Even from this far away, I could hear the shrill and happy nattering of Tia - or was it Taddy? - but I couldn't help feel a little more at ease then before.

Even if Ryan was utterly unaware of what was going on, I knew what Harlow was up to.

Call it female's intuition. Or, common sense.

Men.

(Harlow)

"This is my apartment phone number, I have an answering machine so if I'm not there just leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

I scribbled down the 10 digits onto a scrap piece of paper from my purse (actually, I'm pretty sure it was a gum wrapper - God, I'm ghetto), and pushed it across the table to Marie. She took it nimbly in her fingers, looking up at me with watery eyes. Oh God, I hated when people cried - I was so awkward in those situations.

I smiled reassuringly, and gave her hand a soft pat. "You look stressed, Marie. I know - uhm, well, I've seen how hard hauntings can be on people, and I just want you to know that you're not alone, okay?"

She nodded, biting her bottom lip but still seemingly unable to speak. Oh God, keep talking Harlow, keep talking.

"If you ever need anything, someone to talk to or advice or ... anything, really. I'm just a phone call away."

She nodded again, this time a lone tear dripping down her cheek. Oh, mother of God, I think we were both gonna start crying.

"I just feel so weak," she said quietly. "I can't protect my own daughter, I'm just - "

"You're not weak," I said forcefully. "You're stronger then you even know. The fact that you've made the calls for help, and you've looked into different psychologists and behaviorists for Tia - that shows me you're really, truly taking initiative to help your little girl. You're protecting her the only way you can. You're not weak. No one's weak so long as they try."

With a great, snotty sniffle, Marie nodded and pawed away the tears on her cheeks. She gave me a very watery, very sad little smile, and patted my own hand with her small, warm one.

"You're mother must be so proud of you," she choked.

I smiled, trying to make it more a flattered one then a bitter one. Not too sure if it worked.

"If my mother had given even an eighth of the shit you do about your daughter," I said quietly. "I'd have considered myself the luckiest girl in the world."

Marie looked at me, very curiously, but before I gave her a chance to ask any more slightly awkward questions about my horrifically embarrassing childhood, I cut her off.

"I'll make you a cup of tea," I said with a smile. "You stay out here for a couple minutes, just let it all out, alright? I'll be back in a snap."

She nodded, this time with a more sincere, slightly happier grin. The gum wrapper with my phone number was clenched tightly in her palm, and despite the nagging feeling of sadness in my gut, I stood from the table and walked back to the house.

It was funny - how many times had I met someone, a teacher, a professor, any random person that had told me how proud my mother would've been? Too many. Didn't they know? Couldn't they tell by looking at me? I was an orphan. A mutt, really. My mother killed the only things she was ever supposed to love. I was next on the list. And maybe she hadn't gotten around to me, not in a physical sense. But she slaughtered me in an even worse way then she could've with any gun. Would she have been proud of me? If she could see me now, would she be impressed? Would she even care? Who knows. She was too busy moping around in her jail cell for 12 years, feeling sorry for herself. She couldn't have given less then a flying fuck about how her only daughter left alive was doing.

Was I bitter? Maybe. I think I had a reason to be, don't you? Proud, what a load of shit. The only thing she ever showed any pride for was the amount of time she spent rotting in her cell. You'd think that was some kind of achievement. But life went on. You live you learn, you try to forgive, you try to forget. Painful as it sometimes was, it was all we had, wasn't it? Life - such a funny thing.

I climbed the steps, the shrill laughter of Tia echoing in my ears. I smiled. To be a child again, can you imagine? I wish I'd known how free I was, regardless of my circumstances. I wish I could go back to knowing nothing, but believing in anything and everything. I was afraid of my own mind - I wish I could go back to the time when I wasn't. I was scared of everything, every second of every day - I wanted more then anything to once again, only fear the monsters under my bed. I lived in constant terror of losing the only things I had left in the world. Kimmy, Lindsey - Ryan. I'd lost Sophie. I don't know if I'd ever get her back.

But I hoped I would.

I hoped tomorrow, I would wake up stronger.

I hoped next week, I'd still have the people in my life who showed me the good in every day.

I hoped next month, I would still have Ryan to love and to hold.

I hoped next year, I'd still be on this strange, strange journey to self - or re? - discovery.

I hoped that some day, eventually, I'd be able to forgive. I'll never forget. But maybe I'd be able to forgive.

But most of all?

I hoped, with all my heart, I'd learn how to stop being afraid of doing, having, and discovering, all those things.

I hoped.

Author's Note:

HI! Sorry about the lack of decent author's note last time, my sincerest apologies to my dearest most lovely and beautiful and wonderful readers/reviewers :) My laptop's been going nutso lately, it's driving me mad. ANYWAYS, it seems to be kinda sorta working properly again, so hopefully I can bust out more chapters even quicker! Although I DID just get a new job so I might be too exhausted from serving cake all day to do anything ... but I'm rambling. On to the thank you's!

futureauthor62: gah! i'm sorry it creeped you out! i'm like that when i watch anything even a little terrifying on the computer at night. i'll go upstairs to bed and sing realllllly loudly and pretend like i'm totally fine, but inside i'm crying and flailing in fear :( i still believe in the universal rule that nothing can get you as long as you're under the covers, though. yeah. i'm almost 20. so what? thanks for the review, you darling darling reader!

xSyndarinx: so glad you liked the chappie! and like always, i love you! you're brilliant and i hope you stay with me and harlow and ryan and everyone else until the very end (L)

weasleyO: hmmm ... i don't for sure remember which that was, but it could've been 'Dead Time' by Harbor Master? maybe? i wish they'd bring the boards back, too :(

PSUPRS: oh my lovely Sora! your reviews never fail to brighten my entire week :) thank you thank you thank you, you will forever hold the largest piece of my heart and i want to have your children. much love! xo

WinchesterAngel3389: i met this teeny tiny little girl at my work a couple weeks ago, and she talked EXACTLY like tia. or rather, tia talked like her. it actually made me laugh, i wanted to talk to her forever and ever and ever. i asked what her name was, and she was like "emp-ah-lee." i think that means emily, but i squealed and chased her around the store. thank you for the review, i adore you more than you'll ever know!

akahitoha: pffft, you think the half face man is depressing? wait until you read the next few chapters, THAT'S gonna be depressing :( but you know what's not depressing? you. because i love you to pieces and your reviews never cease to make me smile and roll around in pure joy xoxo

kcollins720: i can always count on you, without fail, to deliver a simple but absolutely wonderful review for T.H.E. :) you're the sweetest person alive, thank you thank you thank you!

nouseforaname89: i think you're the newest reviewer, but you're quickly becoming one of my new bestest friends in the whole entire world! thank you so so so much, your review made a very terrible day a more than bearable one! (L)

xoxoMyRealityIsFiction: EEEEEEEEEP! not even lying, your review made me go 'DAWWWWWWWWW THAT'S SO NICE!" and all my co-workers looked at me like i was some sort of freak. which i guess i am, but whatevs! i'm a freak who loves you more than a baby loves pooping themselves! thank you so much for the review, i simply adore you!

nine reviews! you guys are amazing, and i love you more than life itself! i've had such a stressful week, but all your reviews made it that much easier to get through :)

a word of warning! a lot of you have noticed that the story is getting darker as it goes on - well i'm here to tell you it's really only getting worse. something monumentally terrible will happen in chapter 25, so ... just prepare yourselves, alright? because it's only downhill from there :( BUT, i thank you all once again for sticking with me through my horrifically late updates and sometimes (i'm sure) hard to follow storylines! you're all amazing, and i'd catch a grenade for any of you. yeah. just quoted bruno mars, so what? i'm BA.

love; ellah!