A/N: Thank you to everyone who has recently followed this fanfic. Your continued support is greatly appreciated. Just like to remind everyone that Ghost of a Kind is also cross-posted on AO3 under the same title and username on this site, just in case this site goes down again and you need to find this story or myself.

Chapter 12: Conflicting Consequences

Following the Captain's departure from the second floor, Cordelia and Robin descended the stairs to the common room with haste after pulling themselves together. As much as Cordelia detested the idea of being involved in yet another 'emergency meeting', she knew the Captain would not rest until she was brought to the common room if she even so tried to hide or run. She needed to do this to keep the peace, lest his insistent wrath be brought down upon the rest as well. Unfortunately for the Victorian ghost of the pair, however, she was not prepared for the scene that unfolded upon her arrival, bringing her to a stop beside the first pillar.

Like with yesterday's meeting, the ghosts had taken to standing or sitting in the same places they were in before—Fanny, Thomas and Kitty gathered in a line before the fireplace, Mary seated before the chess set, Pat standing close to the opposite armchair with Robin once the caveman joined him and Julian seated in the wooden chair behind them. It was almost déjà vu, with the exception of four notable changes: Cordelia's changed position, Humphrey's missing head, Humphrey's absent body, and then the Captain who was stood behind the armchair Mary sat in like last time.

During both life and death, Cordelia observed the Captain to be a reserved and formally behaved gentleman. It was rare she witnessed him display any forms of visible emotion unless it was required (like when he needed to be strict, for instance, which Cordelia and the other ghosts were frequently on the receiving end of). However, as the blonde-haired ghost trained her eyes on the World War 2 veteran from where she continued to loiter beside the pillar, it didn't take much for her to spot the subtle cues in the biologically older ghost's body language that exposed what his stoic (and metaphorical) mask currently failed to convey—the squaring of his shoulders, the tight twist of his baton between both of his palms as they gripped the item close to his front, the thin line his lips had formed on his face.

The Captain was definitely agitated.

"If I may have your attention, please!" the Captain suddenly barked, causing the heads of the other seven ghosts to turn in his direction all at once. With a quick glance round revealing all eyes were now on him, the World War 2 ghost rolled his shoulders and tilted his chin to the ceiling, moving his baton behind his back whilst keeping it clasped in his hands. "To make sure everyone is up to speed on current events: the previous operation presented conclusive results that Alison can, indeed, see and hear us." He paused to give Robin a curt nod of acknowledgement. "Thank you for your cooperation on that, by the way."

Robin responded with a goofy grin and a forced chuckle, naturally pleased with the positive recognition. As was Cordelia, who allowed a faint smile to appear for a few seconds at watching the biologically older ghost beam with pride from within her peripheral vision.

'At least the Captain's common sense has not been clouded so that he is unable to give praise where it is deserved.'

"However, the war is far from over," the Captain continued with forced emphasis, the corners of his mouth twitching as he pointed the tip of his baton towards the ceiling with a violent swish. "because now 'Mister Sledgehammer' up there has convinced Alison that we are mere figments of her imagination and has, in turn, made a mockery of our very existence!"

'Oh…' Cordelia's mouth fell open a little with a wide blink to match, suddenly feeling like a child who had managed to find the last piece of a puzzle they'd spent ages searching for. 'I see now. The Captain's agitation was caused by this new and rather perplexing development brought upon by—'

"One moment, if you please, Captain," Cordelia abruptly interrupted her own train of thought, momentarily drawing attention to her when she squinted and pursed her lips. "Who is Mister Sledgehammer? Are you referring to Michael?"

Fanny's loud and disapproving tut confirmed Cordelia's suspicions, with the blonde-haired ghost glancing over to see the Edwardian noblewoman curling her lip with a faint frown.

"That beastly wretch barged into my room whilst I was sleeping and then had the impudence to create a hole in my wall!" she spat without even waiting for the biologically younger ghost to initiate the enquiry for context, causing Cordelia's brows to raise with a couple of forced blinks to match.

"Why did he do that?"

"Goodness knows!" Fanny dismissively shook her head and rolled her eyes. "But if that brute's intention was to create an eyesore, then he has thus succeeded!"

"I'm quite fond of the redecoration, actually!" Kitty chirpily chimed in from where she was stood beside Fanny, a comment that left Cordelia tilting her head a little out of confusion.

"And why is that so, Catherine?"

"Because being in the bedroom next to Lady Button has become twice as exciting now!" The Georgian noblewoman grinned from ear-to-ear and clasped her hands together underneath one of her cheeks.

Her reply caused the imaginary candle above Cordelia's head to alight with a blink, the Victorian woman's realisation further proved by the sight of Fanny averting her gaze to the fireplace with the crinkle of her nose.

'Ah. Michael must have damaged the wall that separates Lady Button's designated bed chambers from Catherine's. That would explain her behaviour.'

"Though I disagree with Lady Button's choice of wording," Kitty blissfully continued with the slight sway of her hips, her cheery demeanour remaining intact as a result of her obliviousness to Fanny's visible discomfort. "I think the smile hole sounds much nicer! Wouldn't you agree, Lady Button?"

Yet said 'Lady Button' refrained from answering or acknowledging the biologically younger ghost, a sight that left Cordelia quietly huffing and closing her eyes.

'While I oft disagree with her superior and selective attitude towards whom she deems her 'peers', I cannot pass judgement when I avoid ghostly company upon principle. I see my bed chambers as my sanctuary, and to have it invaded by unwanted guests brings me great discomfort. It is one of the few things the former lady of the house and I have in common, it seems…'

The Captain loudly clearing his throat brought attention back to him with a collective flinch from the gathered ghosts. "Are the three of you quite finished?"

His stern reprimanding was met with brief glances between Cordelia, Fanny and Kitty. The latter of the three became the first to break eye contact at looking down at her shoes and taking the skirt of her dress into both of her hands and look down at her shoes, while the former bowed her head out of acknowledgement.

"Sorry," Kitty mumbled despondently.

"Yes, our apologies, Captain," Cordelia quietly added and righted herself. "As you were."

"Yes, well," the Captain said with a quick sniff, momentarily pausing to fiddle with the knot of his tie. "Our change in situation requires us to change our tactics. Which is why I propose we revisit the potential for a campaign of attrition." Upon being met with the ghosts sideways glancing each other and some responding with confused shrugs or shakes of the head, the World War 2 veteran heaved an irritated huff before clarifying himself. "We work in shifts to take it in turns grinding Alison down with our demands until she decides to leave—in other words, we use guerrilla warfare."

'Aha,' Cordelia triumphantly thought at hearing that familiar and slightly altered phrase again, ignoring the mumbled exclamations of 'Oh!' and 'Ah!' from other members of their group. 'I had an inkling the term was related to a specific tactic of some kind, yet I was under the initial impression the Captain was referencing an event from an actual war. But he meant it as a type of strategy, one that evidently involves a single person approach rather than an ambush…'

Robin was the only one to scowl and scratch at the side of his head while his gaze wandered between the present ghosts. "I still see no gorilla!" he shouted out of frustration, causing Pat to sigh and use his finger to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

"He doesn't mean an actual gorilla, mate. Though, I must ask, Cap: what exactly would we be 'taking it in turns' doing?"

"Why, ordering them to leave, of course!" the Captain answered with the puffing of his chest, visibly showing how proud he was with his suggestion. "That was the reason we sought out evidence of the extent to Alison's new abilities, yes? Even if she has been led to believe we are figments of her imagination, you saw she's not coping well as is with recent events, so if we use that to our advantage with enough pushing,"—the Captain whipped his baton from behind his back and smacked it against the palm of his other hand, prompting a collective wince to ripple throughout the gathered ghosts—"I'm certain we can send them running for the hills!"

And Cordelia knew the Captain was right, a realisation that blossomed that dreaded ache into her spectre chest and left her to dig her fingers into the material of her plaid shirt.

'From the little I have seen of Alison, she has not been coping well with the newest turn of events, and that is without taking into consideration the inner turmoil she must possess towards her accident and her recovery from her inflicted injuries…' The Victorian ghost visibly shuddered at the short recollection that popped into her head of an unconscious Alison sprawled upon the ground, in turn intensifying the ache and prompting her palm to subconsciously rub at her chest to fruitlessly attempt to ease it. 'Her current mental state is fragile as is, meaning if we were to push those boundaries enough, the Captain's strategy could succeed this time. And yet once again, I find myself uncomfortable with that knowledge.'

And why wouldn't she be, when she was still torn over where her loyalties were supposed to currently lie? A quick glance over the common room also didn't help, as Cordelia could see from the furrowed brows and sneaky exchange of glances between specific ghosts in the group that they were giving his proposal much consideration, which wasn't good.

'Yet should I dare speak my thoughts aloud once more? My rash suggestion the last time was merely an attempt to divert suspicion away from myself. And while I certainly do not agree with the Captain's proposal nor wish for it to succeed, I cannot make myself out to be an enemy.'

But then Pat became the one to disturb Cordelia's inner reflection and draw her back to the current events unfolding, directing a disapproving tut and dismissive shake of the head to the Captain as he did so. "Why must everything be about war with you, Cap?" he complained, causing brows to raise with surprise amongst the group, Cordelia and the Captain included.

"I beg your pardon?" the Captain questioned with two forced blinks, clearly wondering whether he'd heard the scoutmaster correctly.

"I just don't see why we need to keep being hostile!" Pat elaborated with a light, open-armed shrug, holding his hands out as he gave the rest of the ghosts in the common room a brief scan. "It was different when Alison couldn't see or hear us. But now that she can, I think we should take a friendlier approach. We don't want either of 'em getting hurt again, do we?"

Cordelia observed everyone barring the Captain awkwardly averting their gazes to the ceiling, the walls or the floor to showcase their silent agreement with this statement. Out of the corner of her eyes, she even thought she saw Julian swallow thickly and tug at his shirt collar with a finger, his eyes glazing over as though he was recalling the very accident he had instigated.

From what the Victorian ghost had observed of Pat since he became the second from last addition to the ghosts to die upon the grounds of Button House, he was one of the least selfish and the most considerate of them. He frequently acted as the mediator during important discussions like this and was always insistent on finding compromises and talking through issues calmly and respectfully, putting him on par with the Captain when it came to 'level-headedness'. So, to hear something like this escape his mouth was a rare occurrence for the rest, Cordelia especially given the little time she spent around any of them! And yet…

'I should not be too surprised. Though our conversations are few and far between, there have been times where Patrick has freely stated his opinions in confidence to myself. Especially as of recent regarding the Captain's behaviour during the first operation and towards Lady Button.'

"I see your point, Patrick," the Captain eventually said at regaining his composure quicker than the rest of them, rolling back and forth on his heels. "but what friendly approach would you suggest instead? Conversation is clearly out of the question if she's not going to converse!"

"That shouldn't stop us from trying, should it?" Pat argued, once again scanning round the others in the group as if non-verbally looking for support from his fellow ghosts. "Alison probably believes what her husband said 'cause we gave her a bad first impression! It can't hurt to offer her a nice 'hello' or give her a proper tour of the place. Maybe then she'd be more willing to sit down and have a friendly chat about this whole hotel business."

"Like a negotiation?" Julian piped up.

Pat nodded enthusiastically and partially turned to the former MP with both of his thumbs up. "Exactly! Surely, we can find a compromise if we just talk things out, right?"

The Captain squinted and leaned forward on his toes as he gave the shorter scoutmaster a single glance from head-to-toe, forcing three blinks for good measure while he processed what he'd just said. Even Cordelia found herself imitating the World War 2 veteran's squinted gaze as she stared at Pat's back, her own suspicions towards his words being heightened in turn.

'Is Patrick attempting to infer what I think he is attempting to infer?'

And apparently, it wasn't just Cordelia, as the Captain soon proved upon finding the will to vocalise his own suspicions aloud: "Forgive me for saying this, Patrick, but it sounds like you want the enemy insurgents to stay."

Pat replied instantly with a cheery smile to match, completely unfazed by the Captain's implication. "That's exactly what I'm saying, Cap."

Silence descended upon the common room so fast, one could have assumed the entire group had had their voices stolen by an evil wizard casting a curse upon the Button Estate. Cordelia's jaw fell open like a damaged door with loose hinges, with the rest (excluding the Captain, who gaped and recoiled as if the enemy had just opened fire and shot him straight in the chest) staring at Pat with bulged eyes and stiffened shoulders.

Had they just heard him right?

Upon noticing his fellow ghosts looked like they'd turned into petrified statues, the scoutmaster stepped into the middle of the room with his back straight and his chest puffed out, his leadership skills kicking in instinctively. "Look, we don't want a hotel; we all agree on that." Pat paused at hearing and seeing the others either nodding or murmuring in agreement. "But don't you think we're being a bit rash chasing them out? They seem like a lovely couple who are only trying to live their lives, after all."

"Not to mention we've never had a living person who can see us and who we can talk to!" Kitty added while clapping her hands together underneath her chin, a bright, teeth-baring smile on her face. "It's so exciting! It would be nice if we could become friends with Alison!"

"Ideally more than friends, should fate allow it," Thomas mumbled under his breath, but not quietly enough that the others didn't catch it.

"But conversings with the dead be witchcraft!" Mary loudly protested, placing both hands upon the arms of the chair and leaning forward so fast, Cordelia was almost convinced the poor woman was going to lunge herself out of it. "The devil's wrath be 'pon us if theys stays!"

"There's also the case of whether they will agree to negotiate," Julian argued as he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers underneath his chin. "What are we going to do if they want to go ahead with the hotel anyway? It's not like we can blackmail or sabotage them further without brute force." The MP paused to shoot Cordelia a sideways glance, who raised a brow at the bead of sweat she saw trickle down the side of his face with his hasty follow-up. "Which, as the record should reflect, I am not suggesting we do! Just listing it as an example!"

Cordelia had to bite the inside of her lip to stop a smirk creeping onto her face at Julian's reaction; she really had made a bad impression on him with her temper, hadn't she?

"I still no want hotel!" Robin cried and jabbed a thumb into his chest. But after a few seconds of processing his own words, the caveman's frown deepened, his thumb moving to rub at his chin. "Though, making Kim Wilde jump fun…" Several seconds more passed before Robin's contemplation ceased with the relaxing of his expression, leaving the chronologically oldest ghost smiling widely and casually waving his palms about. "You know what? If no hotel, I say Kim Wilde stay!"

"But let's not forget the carnage that cow-handed buffoon of a husband has already caused to this glorious house!" Fanny spat with the scrunching of her nose, turning her nose up to the ceiling with her eyes closed and her arms folded close to her abdomen. "I shudder to think how far into disrepute Button House will fall if we leave the work in his hands!"

"And let me remind you all that Alison has been led to believe we are figments of her imagination," the Captain added. "I highly doubt she would even entertain such a notion."

'Which is a good point well made,' Cordelia reluctantly noted. 'As ideal as Patrick's suggestion is, she is still under the belief we are imaginary.'

"But it's nice to be friendly!" Kitty objected, looking over to Cordelia on the opposite side of the common room as she indicated to her with both palms held out. "Just ask Cordelia!"

Heads collectively whipped to the dark-blonde Victorian in question as her brows raised and her shoulders stiffened with a wide blink. "… Pardon?"

"You want Kim Wilde to stay too, right?" Robin asked, causing the blonde-haired ghost to shrink away with a step back at the increased tightness in her chest.

"Um…" she uttered and trailed off, discouraged from saying anything else by a loud and disapproving tut from the Captain.

"Tish-tosh! It was Cordelia who originally suggested the previous operation! Clearly that means she wants them gone!"

"Utter toffee, sir!" Thomas shouted with an overdramatic clasp of his palm to his chest, extending his other one towards Cordelia. "Did you not see the passionate fire that raged behind young Cordelia's eyes the day poor Alison was injured?! We may not perceive the living maiden's beauty in the same way, but her tongue was like a hero's sword slicing through their enemy's flesh!"

"That doesn't prove anything outside of Cordelia possessing morals, Thomas!" Fanny snapped, only to jerk her head at Cordelia. "And you would all do well to stop putting words in her mouth!"

"Yeah," Pat said in agreement as he gave the biologically younger ghost an encouraging grin, bringing the other ghosts to return their attention to the Victorian woman once more. "What do you think, Cordelia?"

"… Uh…" was all Cordelia could bring herself to say for a second time as blue eyes feverishly darted between the expectant gazes of the ghosts, an arm coiling round her middle at the déjà vu pouncing on her in the form of an ache. And no, it wasn't just from the déjà vu of Fanny actually sticking up for her without any insults (which, admittedly, had taken her by surprise).

'Of course I wish for Alison and Michael to stay! I have since come to peace with that epiphany. And while the reasons provided by Patrick, Thomas, Catherine and Robin are fairly selfish, they are on my side, are they not? Expressing the truth now and pretending that Patrick made a convincing argument would mean I could prevent the Captain's success without arousing suspicion, especially as Patrick's proposal is not going to be successful.'—her eyes flittered in the direction of the Captain, who was unapologetically staring her down with a squint and knitted brows, his arms folded behind his back—'But all actions have consequences, do they not? As the previous instances proved to be true. I unintentionally created further chaos atop what was already there, leading to Alison further struggling to come to terms with her newly gained capabilities. If I were to allow Patrick to do as he pleases, would that not make the situation worse?'

"Well, Cordelia?" the Captain's stern tone broke Cordelia out of her thoughtful daze with a violent flinch. "What say you?"

Cordelia swallowed thickly at feeling the inside of her throat drying up, her eyes once again leaping between Pat's widening smile and curt nod, Kitty's grin peeking from behind her steepled fingers before her lips, Thomas' raised brow and slight tilt of the head so his left ear was pointed towards her, Robin's goofy smile, Fanny's displeased frown, Mary's intense staring (which made Cordelia's shoulders hunch a bit) and Julian's tilted stare and smirk from where he was resting his cheek against his palm—

Wait a minute. Was he finding her collective interrogation amusing?!

'You tosspot!'

Had it not been for the clamping grip of Hesitation's fingers round her tongue in that moment, Cordelia knew she wouldn't have held back with that insult.

'Well, once again, I am trapped at the bottom of a deep hole of my own making. So long as my loyalties remain conflicted, I cannot agree to anything with a clear conscience. So, what am I to do?'

The blonde-haired ghost gripped a hand at her elbow and allowed her eyes to dart about the common room at gradually feeling her forehead growing moist with sweat, desperately seeking something, anything, that could work as a convenient alternative until her inner conflict was resolved. But then her gaze landed upon the fireplace behind Thomas, Kitty and Fanny, sparking the reminder of the irritating and faint prickling between her shoulder blades. However, this in turn made Cordelia recall Robin's words from yesterday evening, causing the imaginary candleflame to ignite upon the wick.

"During talk 'bout Kim Wilde, you no look well. Think it 'cause you in pain like before, so… Want to make sure you all right."

'That's it!'

Was what she was about to do risky and a little immoral? Yes. But was it necessary for the greater good? Also, yes.

Upon returning her focus to the expectant gazes of her fellow ghosts, Cordelia wasted no time in putting her sudden plan into action, releasing a loud gasp and hunching her shoulders while faking a hiss of pain. "Oh, damnation!"

"Cordelia!" she heard Pat exclaim in concern over the simultaneous gasps from the other ghosts and scurry to her side with quick strides, keeping her head lowered, even at feeling the scoutmaster take a firm grip on her elbow and gently pull her upright. She remained unaware of Mary immediately getting to her feet and Julian recoiling in his chair. "Are you okay?"

Cordelia turned to Pat while deepening her breathing, moving her other hand back and forth ever so slightly to imitate trembling as she placed it to her forehead. "A little faint, though that is always expected," she forcibly wheezed, ignoring the raised brows the scoutmaster gave her—she assumed her nerves had granted her a 'sickly' look to her appearance, which unbeknownst to the Victorian woman it had. She looked a little paler in complexion than usual. "But do not feel obligated to keep your hold upon me, Patrick."

"Are you sure?" Pat pressed with the furrowing of his brows. "You look like you're about to keel over!" His frown deepened at his own wording after several seconds, leading to his hasty and mumbled follow-up. "No offence."

"I am sure, thank you, Patrick." Cordelia lightly patted the back of his hand twice, as if to reassure him it was okay to let her go (something Pat reluctantly did after a short delay). "Please do not trouble yourself over my poor decision making."

Cordelia saw Mary gesture her hands to the armchair she was formerly sat in with two side-steps to shuffle away from it. "Would yous likes to sit?"

"Thank you for the offer, Mary, but I think it would be best to take my leave."

Cordelia ignored the wide blinks and collective gapes as she turned to look at the Captain, who was in the former group, when he released his shocked enquiry. "But what about the meeting?!"

"My deepest apologies, Captain."—Cordelia forced a thick gulp before continuing in a falsified wobbly tone, doing well to hide the sarcasm behind her 'apology'—"I attempted to keep up a brave face, but alas, it required the vast focus of my mental faculties. As such, I failed to pay attention to the conversation at present."

The young woman ignored the annoyed groan elicited from Fanny in response to her lie, choosing to observe the scowl and pressed lips the Captain gave her as he gripped in his baton between his hands at his front.

"Quelle surpriz," he remarked through a huff, which the blonde-haired ghost took as her cue to lower her head and rub a hand at her chest.

Her next words were spoken through gritted teeth, though this part wasn't a convincing act; she legitimately did not like what she was about to say, yet still found it as a convenient way to play into her pained act. "Though if it grants you any solace, Captain, please do not let my absence disturb the mission at hand." She dared to lift her head again to gauge the biologically older ghost's reaction, spying one of his brows cocked out of curiosity. "I have no qualms going with whatever you decide to do."

Which was a blatant lie, one that left a bitter taste in her mouth, yet she didn't have much choice.

'No matter which path I choose to walk, the consequences will follow like a loyal guard dog. Thus, I must choose the one that will lead to minimal consequences. As it stands, refraining from partaking in any further decision making until I can quell the remainder of my inner turmoil meets that criteria. Whether that will uphold is unclear, though if the situation escalates yet again, I will be psychologically prepared to deal with the arising problems.'

There was a long pause from the Captain as he pondered Cordelia's answer, almost convincing the biologically younger ghost that her reckless ploy had fallen through. But after what felt like a few minutes of silent staring from the other ghosts had passed, the World War 2 veteran sighed loudly and lifted his closed eyes to the ceiling.

"Very well," he relented, prompting Cordelia to bow her head a little and allow her shoulders to slump with relief (seemingly from the pain, when in actuality, it was for her plan working).

'Oh, thank you, Lord, for once again being merciful.'

"Much appreciated, Captain," she replied in a breathy tone. "Then if you will excuse me…"

Cordelia didn't wait for a verbal response from the gathered ghosts, nor did she dare to give any of them a passing glance. Without another word, the Victorian ghost righted herself, swirled on her heels to face the windows of the common room, and then proceeded to slowly limp towards it. Not to be purposely ignorant of the palpable concern the other ghosts had expressed for her wellbeing, but rather to avoid the ache of guilt springing to her gut upon staring down the four disappointed ghosts who had originally anticipated her support (one that, unfortunately, did sprout up when she unintentionally caught Kitty's pout quivering lip).

'Apologies, everyone, but I must take the least resistant path for the time being. I hope you can understand that.'

Cordelia kept up the act until her ghostly body phased through the wall and outside onto the gravelled courtyard, the warmth of the morning sun instantly hitting her along with the cool and fresh air of the countryside. The blonde-haired ghost was more than happy to welcome the change of scenery with the straightening of her back and the clasping of her hands to her front once more, even going so far as to close her eyes and tilt her head up to the sky for a few seconds with a sharp intake and release of breath through her nose. She wasn't completely out of the woods, after all. She still had to make it look like she was recovering now that she was away from the common room.

'And once again, I find myself on borrowed time.' Cordelia opened her eyes to behold the cloudless blue skies above Button House, tightening her hands' grip on each other with a determined frown. 'Which is why, henceforth, no more stalling. I must make this count.'

But what else could she do, she found herself wondering as she propped her elbow upon her palm and her cheek against her knuckles. Pondering over the pros and cons alone in her bed chambers yesterday evening had done little to help. Really, she needed a second opinion other than her own to solve this conundrum. Though who could she talk to?

'I can immediately disregard any of the upstairs ghosts from my list. At this point in time, none of them can be trusted. That, sadly, does not exclude Humphrey. As trustworthy as he can be, I cannot risk anything we discuss somehow getting back to the Captain. There is also Jemima, but she is just a child and I do not wish to trouble her after what she has endured this day.'

Ideally, Cordelia knew she needed a ghost whom the upstairs company wouldn't dream of conversing with on a regular basis, a ghost who, upon principle, was avoided at all costs, as this way she could guarantee her vulnerability would not be exposed to the rest of the ghosts. Of course, she was well aware of a specific group of ghosts in Button House who fitted this ideology, and while the thought of venturing to that specific area of the house to find them didn't fail to ripple a chill down her invisible spine, she didn't have much choice.

'I suppose a change of scenery is in order.' Cordelia dropped her arms to her sides as she turned her gaze to the entrance of the house, her eyes drooping with a slump of the shoulders. 'Thus, it is off to the cellar I go.'

A/N: Yeah. This chapter is a little late. Partly due to demotivation but mainly because I was struggling to figure out the direction this meeting was supposed to go in. Yet, as promised, this chapter officially marks the first that will stem away from episode two's canon. Not only have I created a little more emphasis on the conflicting views between the ghosts surrounding Alison now to cause Cordelia further guilt, but you'll also find in the following chapters that Cordelia will not be involved in the ghosts' harassment of Alison either. The Captain's plan is still going ahead as in canon, but you'll find that Cordelia is going to play a big role in helping Alison come to terms with her newfound abilities instead and ultimately combating said plan. This has been hinted at quite a few times in past chapters already, so expect the sprinkles of build-up I've planted to come to fruition soon. In the meantime, I don't think I need to say anything towards the little teaser I've left at the end of this chapter. I think you all can easily guess who is going to help Cordelia overcome her confliction in the next one, and it's one I think you will enjoy, for sure~... I did say their debut would come in the second episode, and I intend to stick to my word.