Things were becoming increasingly annoying with all of the strange events he thought that he was seeing. And now, to make matters worse, even his cats were beginning to act strangely.

It wasn't much at the beginning. He would just often have this feeling of someone being with him, even when he knew that he was alone in the house.

Then, he kept seeing people walking around in his peripheral vision.

Or, to be more accurate, just one person.

He had the distinct impression that it was always the same person who was walking around his house. He was sure by now that it was a dark-skinned man, who was just a bit shorter than him.

Then there were the things that kept getting pushed around. Such as the basket on his first day back.

Then there were his pain pills being on the other side of the sink in the bathroom from where he was positive he had placed them before. There was his shirt that was removed from his bed. He put on another one to go to sleep that night, but found the other the next day under his bed.

His cats were acting strangely too.

Epsilon hissing wasn't so much big news, but Theta and even Delta doing the same was pretty bizarre. They could be lying with him on the couch and watching a movie one moment, and then in the next they were up on their feet, hackles raised and hissing at the fucking air.

This was definitely strange and he really had no clue what was going on with them. However, he suspected that they were just having a rough time adjusting to their new living situation.

What was the most unnerving thing was that his phone and MP3 Player were always being depleted of any energy.

He had even bought a new MP3 Player because he thought that his old one had simply kicked the bucket, but the new one was acting strange too. He could charge his phone and his MP3 Player fully, but after an hour they started honking and informing Wash that their batteries were almost empty.

This, however, only happened when he was in his house. If he was outside, the batteries in either device didn't deplete quite that fast.

What was the strangest thing of all, however, was that he had the distinct impression that something always happened after either of the batteries became almost depleted. Either that something in his house was shifted around once more or that Wash was again seeing someone out of his peripheral vision.

The most peculiar thing was, he was also feeling a bit more sluggish than he had during recovery. Shouldn't it be the other way around?

He felt like something was draining his energy, but he pushed the thought aside since that was bullshit.

However, after some days of these things getting progressively worse, he felt like snapping. He even saw a chair move this morning without him doing anything!

And it felt like someone was sitting at the table in his kitchen with Wash.

He started feeling incredibly nervous and when the phone went off he almost threw it away because he had gotten so scared.

After some seconds of trying to get his nerves back in check, he answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Wash, how are you?" Wash could hear noises in the background, so he suspected that Carolina was calling from her work that she had taken up as a fitness instructor.

She must have been on her break. She couldn't go without working and so she had accepted the offer of an old high school friend to join her gym for some hours during the week.

"I'm fine." He answered, but it was a lie. He felt like snapping. The whole morning had been fucking with his nerves.

His phone was constantly empty, things got moved around and shit… it was horrible.

He was even starting to hear shit now. Like a whispered, "Dude, really? You're watching Private Practice? That's so fucked up." among other things.

Carolina seemed to notice his discomfort and the obvious lie. She sighed deeply. She always had been the best at reading him, it didn't matter if she could see him or not.

"Wash, what's up? You sound like you haven't slept at all."

"I haven't." the younger man replied honestly this time. He learned long ago that being honest had brought him further in his friendship with Carolina than lying did to spare his dignity. She hadn't left him any choice in the matter, either.

"Because of the pain from the accident?" She asked, and Wash shook his head.

He realized that Carolina couldn't see him doing so and answered vocally, "No. It's not that. I am probably just imagining things."

This seemed to alarm Carolina, "What's up?"

"I don't know what's up, really. It's probably idiotic and nothing, but I think I hear… things. I feel like I am seeing someone walk around in my house in my peripheral vision and there are things getting moved around. Even Theta and Delta started hissing at nothing but thin air." Dragging a hand over his face, he sighed heavily.

After having gone through so much shit in Afghanistan in the past with bombs and attacks on their base, he felt relatively safe telling her about the latest developments in his house. Shit like what happened in the war tended to bring people together more tightly than anything. Seeing so much shit probably led to neither person judging what the other was saying when they were witnessing strange occurrences.

Carolina was silent for a long while before she asked something that threw Wash completely for a loop.

"Are the batteries for your electrical devices constantly empty?" She asked so deliberately that Wash had to do a double-take and look at the phone just to make sure that he really was still connected with his former boss.

"Uh… yeah, why?" He asked, blinking at the phone as he waited for his ex-boss to say something.

She was walking around in an empty room if the sounds he heard from the phone were any indication.

Wash walked around his living room, seeing a picture hanging strangely on the wall and adjusting it absentmindedly. It had moved without him noticing.

It was a picture of his squad from when Connie still was alive, before a bomb tore her to shreds, made Maine mute, and caused York to lose his left eye.

"And then strange things happen?" She continued, Wash making a strange noise in the back of his throat.

Wash only nodded before again remembering that they were connected over the phone, "If you ask like that… Yeah. It is always when the batteries of my electrical devices go empty that something strange happens."

There was another long silence before Carolina said something that made Wash gape at the picture with his mouth hanging open.

"I guess, Wash, that you have a ghost in your house." She said calmly, and Wash felt his phone buzz.

"I… what?" Wash squeaked, feeling his anxiety levels rise.

He didn't believe in ghosts, but everything that was happening made his resolution falter and Carolina saying that of all people didn't help him lessen his nerves any. Besides, ghosts usually are bloodthirsty monsters, at least according to the films that he had to watch during his army time.

Carolina was grinning by the sound of her voice, "York loves to watch series about ghost hunters on TV. I happen to see them too." she explained, Wash's phone buzzing again.

"Battery empty?" She asked deliberately and Wash groaned.

"Second time this day." He muttered and Carolina snickered.

"I would guess that someone is going to make an appearance. I am off for now, my client arrived. See you."

Carolina hung up right after Wash barely managed to get out a "See you." before Carolina was off.

"Dude, you want to stare at the phone all day?" a voice rang out besides the ex-soldier, making him jump in surprise.

"Dude, seriously, I've been trying to get your attention for days!" The voice continued unfazed, sounding just a bit annoyed.

Looking closer, Wash could see how a human figure had started to appear until a man roughly around Wash's age was standing there before him, arms crossed and looking utterly annoyed.

"Err— excuse me? How is pushing things around a way to get my attention?" Wash asked, looking at the slightly translucent figure standing in front of him.

The light from his lamp on the ceiling flickered and all three cats had run off to safety. They were no doubt searching for it under his bed.

"Because that's what ghosts do? Throw stuff and push shit around?" the man replied, cocking an eyebrow.

He indeed had dark skin and long dreads, pulled up into a pony tail.

"I— you— what?! You're a ghost?! But— that's impossible!" Washington exclaimed.

"I am standing here, aren't I?" the man replied dryly, regarding the man who was gaping at him in return.

Wash sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

"How about you introduce yourself before acting like a dick?" he grumbled, staring at the ghost and feeling as annoyed as said ghost looked.

Wash had seen some strange shit. People being ripped into pieces or having their limbs torn off by bombs, cripples walking around, men and women wearing the strangest clothing and having the strangest of abnormalities. However, he had never seen a ghost so far!

The ghost grinned broadly, winking at Wash. "My name's Lavernius Tucker. But for you it's just Tucker, buttercup."

"What." Wash replied, his mind still reeling to wrap his head around the fact that he had a ghost standing in his house and that he was fucking talking with him, not even realizing that the ghost was flirting with him.

"So then, Tucker, why are you here? Shouldn't you, I don't know, leave?" Wash asked the first thing that came to mind when he managed to force his reeling mind back into working.

"Go into the white light? Nah, honey, I'd rather stay here and screw with you. Bow-chicka-bow-wow."

The ghost winked again and Wash couldn't help but groan at that, already feeling annoyed by the imbecile behavior of the young ghost and completely forgetting about him being a paranormal phenomenon for the moment.

"Then why are you haunting me? My house doesn't even resemble a haunted house." The ex-Navy Seal asked.

"Aside from you being smoking hot?" the young man spouted, grinning broadly.

Wash could feel his face heating up at Tucker's words. His ears were getting warm and he started spluttering something incomprehensible, which was answered by Tucker with an even broader grin.

"Yeah, I wanted to thank the guy who saved my son back then." Tucker suddenly said deliberately and Wash blinked at him several times, totally baffled.

"Huh?" was the only thing that Wash was able to get out.

"Yeah, duh. You saved my son almost a year ago? The boy with the teal hoodie? That's my Junior. I wanted to say thank you for that." Tucker explained, a fond expression appearing on his features when he was talking about his son.

Wash couldn't help but thinly smile at that, seeing that open display of affection and pride towards his own offspring.

"Uh, you're welcome." Wash muttered, still perplexed, before another question popped up, "I don't remember Junior ever visiting me, so how did he know who saved him?"

"I happened to be in the same hospital as you." Tucker replied, his face darkening and Wash got the sinking feeling that this was something he didn't like talking about, "I was at the station for incurable patients." His voice got lower with every word.

"I'm—" Wash had to swallow before he could continue, "I'm sorry, Tucker."

"Nah, don't be." The ghost then waved him off with his easy grin, "I died about three months ago and came to your room in the rehabilitation part of the hospital when I was sure that Junior was going to be taken good care of." Tucker continued, a sigh escaping his lips before he muttered, "At least as well as can be expected for teenaged kids who have nobody left and no money to pay for shit."

Wash didn't know how he should respond to that, so he decided to keep his mouth shut and wait for the dark-skinned ghost to continue.

"I had a severe and acute case of leukemia. It took me about nine months from the first symptoms until I was six feet under. Well, life sucks, and not in the good way. Bow-chicka-bow-wow." Tucker again spouted that line and Wash got the growing feeling that it was some kind of catchphrase for the ghost.

He couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"I can relate to that." Wash replied, moving his injured leg since his knee had started hurting from standing the same way for several minutes now.

"I know, and I'm sorry. For what happened to you and that Junior never showed up. He's a good kid, he just lost everything in a crucial time of his life." Tucker said, scratching the back of his head, "His mom died giving birth to him and I was the only relative he had left, and now he's lost even me." He muttered sadly, looking to the ground.

"I'm sorry for that. I hope your son is going to be fine." Wash replied, somewhat at a loss of words on how to reply to something like that.

Tucker only sighed deeply at that.

It was then when Wash asked, "You wanna sit down on the couch? We can watch something."

Ghost or not, Tucker seemed to need some kind of distraction right now to take his mind off of sad things. Or, at least, Wash felt like this was the case.

"As long as it isn't another episode of Private Practice." The grin was back and Wash rolled his eyes.

"Haha. Very funny, Tucker."

With that, they both sat down on the couch, the cats coming back some time later on though they kept their distance from where Tucker was sitting.

Wash distantly remembered that cats were said to be halfway on this side and halfway on the other side, being especially sensible to paranormal phenomena. So, it wasn't all that surprising that they noticed Tucker being around.

He wondered if they could even see him, or if they just noticed something was up that did not belong to this place here and were simply keeping their distance from it.

Days turned to weeks, and it became somewhat normal for Wash to have Tucker around. He wasn't even spooked anymore by the fact that Tucker was a fucking ghost and had been dead for almost half a year now.

Okay, he ever so often still almost jumped through the roof when Tucker decided that it was a funny thing to spook him by appearing out of nowhere, or by sticking his head out of walls or even the toilet bowl.

Slamming the lid down on the toilet when he did that didn't help any aside from the fact that he had to replace the toilet seat at some point. Tucker only laughed at him for being such a fucking damn scaredy cat.

During the last few weeks, they had fallen into a routine as easily as if they had been living together for years. Like this was something that they hadn't always done.

Like they belonged together, living like that.

Waking up in the morning, he had to push Epsilon off his head. This fucker of a cat thought it would be funny to sit on his head at six in the morning because he thought it was time to get fed.

Getting up from his bed, he walked down into the kitchen to feed his cats and get himself a coffee.

"Dude, are you always up so fucking early?"

"Good morning to you too, Tucker." Was replied dryly, focusing on the coffee that he was pouring into his cup currently. He added some sugar and sat down at the table, "And yes, I am always up so early. Epsilon doesn't leave me much other choice."

"How about throwing the cat out and locking the door?" Tucker arched an eyebrow.

"Did you see the scratch marks at the door?" Wash looked over the rim of his cup to see Tucker gape at him.

"Wait, so that was the cat?" he asked, Wash nodding before taking another sip, "And here I thought that was your girlfriend you screwed so damn well that she scratched the walls. Bow-chicka-bow-wow!"

Rolling his eyes, Wash decided to take another sip of his coffee, "I have no girlfriend." He replied bluntly, reaching down to pet a meowing Theta.

"Then a fuckbuddy. However, I always thought you're a monster in bed whenever I saw those scratch marks." Tucker grinned at that and Wash felt his face heat up.

"I— I don't have a fuckbuddy!" he replied, his voice raising an octave and his ears burning hot, "Besides, that doesn't even make sense! The scratch marks are on the other side of the door!"

The ghost chuckled at that. "One could say you didn't manage to get into bed before things got sexy."

Wash didn't say much to Tucker's comment, only replying with, "I can't anymore. Not since…"

"Afghanistan." Tucker finished Wash's statement for him after he trailed off.

A heavy silence settled in before Tucker exhaled loudly, "Dude… shit, I'm sorry. I—"

But Wash interrupted him, "Don't. I didn't tell you, so you couldn't know."

The dark-skinned man made a face.

After another silence, Tucker spoke up again, "It's PTSD, isn't it?"

Wash decided not to answer verbally, instead only nodding curtly.

"Do you… I mean, are you getting help for that?" Tucker looked him over with a concerned glance, to which Wash only shook his head in response.

"Why not?" Gosh, couldn't Tucker stop asking questions?

"There are younger soldiers and those with families. They need it more than me." He replied simply.

Tucker scowled at that, "There isn't a limitation on people who get treated, Wash." He started, shutting Wash up when he wanted to reply, "You're thinking that this is some kind of deserved punishment, is that it? That you deserve to have PTSD because of whatever shit went down in Afghanistan? That's why you live in the outskirts of the city? Away from loud noises and shit?"

Wash closed his eyes, putting the cup down and breathing in and out deeply.

"If you want to put it like that…" he trailed off, rubbing over a scar on his neck. It was from a piece of shrapnel that had tore open his neck and almost paralyzed him by cutting off the nerves in his neck.

"That's fucked up." Tucker muttered, glaring at the table as if it did something to personally offend the ghost.

"I mean, why do the good people always have to suffer like that?!" Tucker suddenly flared up, shooting up from his seat and starting to pace the kitchen.

Wash was sitting there. He blinked at the ghost, taken aback.

It took the ex-soldier awhile to get his bearings back in check.

"It's okay, Tucker. I got used to it. Never mind." His statement made it pretty clear that he was done discussing the subject.

While he was taking another sip from his cup, he could see Tucker stare at him with a sympathetic glance. It was similar to the way someone might regard a kitten who was left out in the icy rain in the middle of a cold winter's night.

It was silent for another long while until Wash, sitting opposite of him, decided to get up and start his day.

Upon standing, the blond-haired man stretched his spine until it cracked.

"Ouch dude, that sounds painful." Looking back over his shoulder, Wash could see Tucker staring at him with a pained look on his face, like this crack hurt him physically. Which wasn't possible anymore since he was a ghost. Or whatever…

"Not as painful as it sounds. I've gotten used to it." The ex-soldier replied, making his way up to his bedroom, with Tucker following him with a contemplative look on his face.

"Is that from the accident?" He asked suddenly, Wash stopping short in front of his bedroom door and turning around to face the ghost.

Wash had long ago noticed that Tucker wasn't much shorter than him and he was surprisingly well-built. He had muscles outlining his body, but he wasn't overly muscular. He was just the perfect image of a well-trained man.

His thought screeching to a halt inside his mind, Wash felt his face heat up again when he realized that he was checking Tucker out.

"Uh— I—" he stuttered out, his mind still reeling. Before Tucker had the possibility to say anything and make it even more awkward than it already was, Wash managed to get out, "Err— Yes, it's from the accident. Also, the knee." He gestured down to his damaged knee that hurt slightly once more.

"Shit… I'm sorry, dude." Tucker muttered, looking guilty at the fact that Wash was having such health issues due to saving his son.

"Don't blame yourself for something you couldn't have prevented." Wash replied, entering his bedroom before he could check Tucker out any further.

He already knew that Tucker was good looking and appealing, but Wash seriously had to get himself in check. Getting a crush on a ghost? Seriously!?

Searching through his dresser, he looked around for some running shorts and a shirt, noticing Tucker walking through his room and sitting down on the bed, "I know, I just feel like I should have been there to protect Junior."

"You were in the hospital, Tucker. You couldn't have done shit." Well, Tucker's way of speaking was obviously rubbing off on him.

Immediately, Wash bowed more over the dresser drawer and tried to bury his face in his underwear when he felt another blush creeping up his face. Seriously, he had even started thinking in innuendos!

"Besides, I am glad I could help. We both survived, so it's a plus." Wash continued, trying to play his awkwardness coolly.

Tucker made a sound in the back of his throat that Wash couldn't quite place, but decided on leaving it at that.

For Wash, surviving was the best he could ask for. He was in Afghanistan and had survived and seen worse. He had even gotten the nickname "Cat" during his time on the other side of the world, since he had a tendency to survive shit that others would have died from with nothing more than a scratch and some dust in his hair. His luck sometimes was incredible. It was like he had nine lives, just like a cat.

He had survived the bomb explosion that had killed Connie and injured both Maine and York, although they hadn't been in the direct vicinity of the bomb.

Wash had been lucky to survive without so much as a torn eardrum. There had been the leftover bonnet of a car that was blown up that had shielded him from the worst.

Since then, he felt guilty for having survived. He had activated that bomb by stepping on a tripwire due to being the innocent idiot that he had been back then, but it had been Connie, Maine, and York that had gotten injured.

He, who had caused all of that, had survived without so much as a scratch.

Making a face, he gathered some socks and the rest of his running gear. He threw them on the bed.

Wash was fairly certain that Tucker had seen him making faces along with going through his memories, but he was tactful enough to not comment on it since he seemed to feel that this was a sore subject for the ex-soldier.

Grabbing the shirt, he held it in his hand and looked over at Tucker.

The ghost replied to the glance with one of his own, not moving an inch.

"Uh, do you mind?" Wash muttered, feeling his face turning pink once again.

Tucker only raised an eyebrow at the question.

The ex-soldier felt exasperation bubble in his chest, but he pushed it down, "I am going to change, so would you please leave the room?"

"Oh, don't mind me." Tucker replied with a grin, "It's not like I can't see you without you noticing me being around." The sardonic grin became wider.

Wash pulled a face, "I don't want to know. So, do you mind…?"

Tucker groaned, but got up nonetheless, "God, you're such a killjoy."

"Glad to be of service." Wash muttered when he heard the ghost leave the room and slipped out of his shirt.

It hadn't only been because of the thought of Tucker watching him change. He was self-conscious in general when it came to his body due to all of the scars and all of the issues he was carrying around.

He was not intact anymore. Neither emotionally nor physically.

His body was a mess and he preferred that nobody saw what a mess he really was.

When he came back in the evening, he could see Tucker sitting on the couch with his cats all crammed in the space on the other side.

After a short greeting, Wash went upstairs to get a shower and to calm down. During his whole run, his mind had been wondering about him and Tucker… about the guilt of being alive and the baggage he was carrying around constantly.

He wasn't a good person, but he had learned to live with it.

Wash was also aware that he wasn't the only one who suffered from PTSD and that he wouldn't be the last one to get diagnosed with that disorder.

Walking down the stairs, he heard his phone ring.

"Looks like someone is missing you. The phone has been ringing since you went up for your shower." Tucker commented, not taking his eyes off of the TV screen where some sci-fi show was currently airing.

Since the blond man wasn't as into those kind of things, he tuned it out and grabbed the phone.

He answered it when he entered the kitchen.

He didn't have much time to say his hellos before Carolina cut in, "You ever thought about becoming a ghost hunter?"

That was just the way the woman was. Not beating around the bush, but getting to the subject directly.

"Uh, what?" Wash asked unhelpfully, which drew a long sigh from the woman.

"I asked if you had ever thought about becoming a ghost hunter. Paranormal investigator, whatever. Since you can see ghosts, you would have a big advantage compared to other mediums."

He took the phone from his ear to look at the screen to confirm that yes, Carolina was on the phone still, before he again looked at it.

"Uh, no?" He replied, still not really knowing what to make of that question.

"Then start thinking about it. I was talking to an old friend from high school who is a ghost hunter. He's kind of a techie who finds and talks to ghosts mostly because he knows how to read his instruments." Carolina started explaining, as Wash's mind was still reeling, "However, he is missing a medium and when I told him that you can see ghosts and have one around, he said that he wanted to get to know you… maybe team up with you."

It was silent again with Wash still trying to process what he had just heard, "So, you want me to go hunt ghosts and do what?"

"Mostly only confirming that they're around. Maybe Tucker can help too. In any case, if you need to get rid of the ghosts, Tom, my friend, has another medium at hand who knows the cleaning rituals until you get into the groove yourself. Now, what do you think? It's not a fulltime job, just some days a week or even a month, depending on the people asking him. And it would mostly be during the night too, so you can put your insomnia to good use."

Of course, she would bring up his insomnia and how he sometimes wasn't sleeping for days. It wasn't enough that Tucker was needling him about that too now.

The blond man sighed, "Okay, so you want me to go to stranger's places and check if they have a ghost spooking them." He asked, only for clarification.

"Or a demon, but yes."

"What!?" Now that threw Wash for a loop. Demons!? How would he be able to battle a demon?

"A demon, creatures from Hell. But for those kind of things, you would need an exorcist from the Church or a demonologist, but you won't have to chase them away. You will only be responsible for cleaning the houses to get the ghosts to leave. So, if you ever get fed up with Tucker, you'll know how to get rid of him."

"I doubt this would keep him away for long." The man replied dryly, earning a chuckle from the redhead.

"So, you've settled in domestically with him already?" she asked gleefully.

Wash only groaned in response, and lowered his voice.

"He just doesn't want to leave, although I told him several times that he could go and that I've already accepted his thanks." the man explained.

Carolina made a contemplative sound, "I asked Tom about that. He said that some ghosts don't want to leave either because they can't let go of the life they had. You know, the domestic things... being together with someone, or they don't want to leave because they have something to accomplish that they don't know about yet. So, either you help him figure it out or you just come to accept that he's around."

Wash sighed deeply. Fucking peachy, this was going to become a funny time for him.

"Anyways, what can I tell Tom?" She asked him then, bringing the subject back to what they were talking about.

After another moment of pondering over the situation, Wash decided to just say fuck it… he would do it.

He had already gathered some experience about ghosts considering that Tucker was around now and he had also done some internet research on ghosts due to his rather uncommon roommate, so why not bring that into his work?

"Okay, I will accompany him on one mission of his. Just to see how things will work and I'll decide after that."

"Neat!" He could hear the grin in Carolina's voice, "I'll inform him then. He'll send you the coordinates for the first mission via phone."

"Okay."

After that, Wash and Carolina were talking about random stuff, mostly about how Carolina and York were settling in and adjusting to living with one another. They also talked about Theta, Delta, and Epsilon and how they were doing with Wash's latest acquaintance.