A/N: Phew. Goodness! Finally managed to get this chapter done. XD Third update for 2024 over two months late, but at least this is the last of the stories I was having writer's block issues with. ^^' But yeah, for those of you who have not seen the author's notes I left in the recent chapters for Shadows of a Spare and The Owlcast, around mid-January, I got hit with a triple-whammy writer's block for all three fic series. Shadows of a Spare, The Owlcast and Ghost of a Kind, all of them came to a halt. The first two weren't too bad and I managed to overcome them just fine after I set my focus to one each, but Ghost of a Kind... Yeah. This one was the worst. I had fifty-percent of the chapter written out, but I just couldn't figure and formulate the remaining fifty-percent to get Cordelia to where she needed to be. But I got there in the end, and while I wound up using Humphrey for it again... I think it works. But more on that at the bottom of the chapter, of course.

Either way, as of this chapter, Ghosts BBC has officially come to a close with Series 5 + the Christmas special. A lot of people were disappointed with how the series ended. I'll admit I was at the time as well. But after taking some time to ponder over it, I think the ending they chose made sense, in the end. I won't say much more in case anyone reading this fic has not seen Series 5 yet (though I will warn you that I have slipped a Series 5 'teaser' in the latter half of this chapter, just 'cause. XD), but while I do think they could have executed it a little better instead of cramming into the Christmas special, I think the ending we got was good. Bittersweet, but understandable when you look back through the episodes (of which I have done way too many times to count at this point. XD).

*cough* But enough of my rambling. Thank you to everyone who has been favouriting, following, reviewing and reading this fic even during my two month absence. Your continued support is greatly appreciated. It's really nice to see this fic blowing up over here and on AO3 to boot. Chapter 16 does not conclude the second episode, but if all goes well, I think I might be able to end it in Chapter 17, even if that means I exceed 5,000 words. In the meantime, I hope you like Cordelia's interactions with Alison and Humphrey (again). ^^'

Chapter 16: Facing Facts

The distant and familiar chiming of the grandfather clock rung through Cordelia's ears, her eyelids fluttering open ever so slightly against the bright light flooding her vision and tugging her into the realm of waking. Amidst her groggy haze, the young Victorian woman squinted and started to count the chimes, attempting to rouse herself by honing her concentration onto her surroundings. One, two, three—

Cordelia barely got to 'four' before the muffled, high-pitched and drawn-out scream of Fanny Button plummeting from the second floor resounded from outside, snapping her eyes open fully and tensing her shoulders. Blue eyes stared intently to the sunlit window of her bedroom, awaiting the Edwardian noblewoman's bone-cracking collision with the ground. Instead, Cordelia heard the startled and breathless cry of the distressed figure shooting up from the top end of her bed and flinging the blue two-shaded plaid patterned covers aside, sending an electrified tingle down her spine.

"Ah!" Cordelia instinctively shouted in alarm and jolted upright from the table, almost tumbling off the chair in the process.

However, upon whipping her head in the culprit's direction, reality came crashing down on the Victorian ghost at being met with a dishevelled Alison. She was pressing both hands into the mattress on either side of her to retain her balance, wide green eyes staring out to the garden.

"What the hell was that?!" she yelled, prompting Cordelia to heave a weary huff and rub her palms against her cheeks at the events of last night returning to her memory.

'Of course. I forgot I was hosting,' she thought sarcastically.

At least she knew she wasn't dreaming now.

"That would be our resident misery," Cordelia wearily replied, earning herself a confused frown from Alison as she looked back from over her shoulder.

"What?"

Cordelia gestured a palm at the left side of the window, prompting Alison's frown to deepen as she leaned a little off the bed to look. The Victorian woman used the opportunity to rise from the chair, stretch her arms above her head and then loosely roll her neck around, only to feel the back of her neck spasm upon moving it to the right.

'Oof!' The blonde-haired ghost winced and vigorously rubbed her palm against the area where a dull ache was beginning to form, hoping to ease her discomfort somewhat. 'Why must our spectre bodies continue to be plagued by such irritating ailments from the living realm?'

Cordelia's attention returned to Alison when she saw the brunette woman's brows shoot up with a disbelieved gasp; she must have spotted Fanny returning to the house, Cordelia assumed, a suspicion that was soon confirmed aloud by Alison herself.

"Those screams came from that sourpuss?!" she cried, forcing Cordelia to bite the inside of her lip to stop it twitching at the urge to laugh at Fanny's given nickname. "I thought that was a fox!"

'Sourpuss? I do not have the foggiest idea what that means, but if it has any association to 'sour', then I must admit it is very fitting for Lady Button, indeed. I shall have to remember to ask Julian about it sometime.'

"I do not blame you for believing such," Cordelia eventually said. Clasping her hands to the front of her skirt, Cordelia stepped up to the foot of the bed and watched Alison settle back on the mattress again. "Fox noises can easily be mistaken for a human."

Cordelia purposely refrained from expanding on the story behind Fanny's sleepwalking or making any further remarks about the Edwardian woman's screaming out of consideration for Alison's wellbeing. She was still under the misguided belief that they were imaginary, after all, and the last thing Cordelia wanted to do was complicate matters further now that Alison appeared to be receptive to conversing with her.

"God," Alison cursed under her breath and ran her fingers through her hair, releasing a heavy sigh. Though it didn't take long for her eyes to shift to the bedroom ceiling, leading to the living woman's gaze warily wandering round every nook and cranny of the bedroom she was in.

As Alison had arrived to her bedroom when it was mostly pitch-black (save for what little moonlight shone in), she hadn't gotten a proper look at where she was, especially due to being preoccupied by the antics of the other ghosts, among other ailments plaguing her. Poor woman's face was still as pale as a bed sheet, although Cordelia noted of the pink tint blushing her cheeks, which she took as a good sign. However, she did wince a little at the heavy and almost bruise-like sagging underneath Alison's bottom eyelids. Her weariness was much more palpable in the daylight, Cordelia reluctantly acknowledged.

"By the by," the Victorian woman began, tilting her head to the side a little. "Did you get a peaceful respite? Before the screaming disturbed you, of course."

Alison slowly nodded in reply, her eyes resting on the closed bedroom door. "… Yeah, actually. Don't think I woke up once." She rolled her shoulders back and forth. "Still a little achy in the muscles, though I suppose it's better than having the room spinning every time I lift my head."

Cordelia sighed quietly and briefly closed her eyes, bowing her head a bit as she did so. "That is a relief to hear." The blonde-haired woman followed Alison's gaze to the door, the muffled ticking of the grandfather clock being the only sound Cordelia noted hearing from the other side. "I did have concerns that the Ca—" Cordelia interrupted herself mid-sentence with a forced cough; she needed to be mindful of using the ghosts' actual names until Alison believed they were real. "Pardon me—I meant the Major General would have set the calvary upon us by now."

"Uh…" Alison's utter brought Cordelia's attention back to the living woman, only for her brows to raise with a wide blink at the slight squint and faint frown sent her way.

"I was concerned that my acquaintances would have come searching for you by now," Cordelia corrected with forced emphasis, assuming Alison's confusion was related to her phrasing.

She was so used to Pat and Julian having gotten used to her Victorian dialect that she'd forgotten what it was like to converse with someone who had no clue what she was saying!

Cordelia soon received her confirmation when Alison relaxed her expression and gaped. "Oh…" The brunette woman nodded stiffly and held her palms up. "No, yeah, I- I get you. No matter where I ran off to, they always managed to sneak up on me when I least expected it."

"Which is why I am, admittedly, surprised that I have not seen or heard them since last night."

Alison lightly shrugged her shoulders and lowered one of her hands to the mattress to pat at it. "Still, I guess that means you were right: I did get some proper rest in this room." But then the brunette woman knitted her brows together and turned to the window, dropping her other hand into her lap. "What even is this room anyway?" Cordelia followed Alison's gaze to the window, opening her mouth in preparation to answer. But she quickly fell silent and returned her eyes to the brunette when she clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Ah, never mind. You wouldn't know either, would you?"

Cordelia cocked a brow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't remember seeing this room when Mike and I first had a look around the house. We definitely covered this area too." Alison waved her hand about. "So, why would you know what this room is for if I don't know?"

Cordelia chose to nod at Alison's words instead of speaking aloud, yet it didn't stop her from releasing a quiet and despondent sigh.

'While it is certainly nice to converse with a new face after so long, I must admit that Alison's reluctance to acknowledge myself as an individual separate from her mind is a little discouraging...' She shook her head a little. 'Although, I imagine I am faring much better when compared to the others; last night with Robin was quite the spectacle, indeed.'

Alison's yawn brought Cordelia out of her current train of thought with an involuntary flinch. The living woman stretched her arms above her head and shuffled to the left side of the bed, prompting the blonde-haired ghost to move two steps backwards round the foot of the bed to stay clear of her.

"Aaaanyway," Alison drawled and lowered her arms to shake them and her wrists about, likely to get the blood flowing through her limbs, Cordelia presumed. "I should head back upstairs and check on Mike. He's worried enough in thinking I'm losing my marbles." Cordelia frowned at the last thing Alison said out of confusion, but she didn't remark on it out loud; that was another modern expression she could query Julian about later. "But, uh…" Alison turned to Cordelia and smiled faintly, twirling her right wrist at the deceased woman. "Thank you. For the help. And for not waking me up."

Cordelia blinked widely a couple of times at what Alison had just said, her jaw slacking at the sudden warmth spreading within her chest that she attempted to grip at with a hand through the material of her shirt.

Did this woman just thank her for helping her?

For a moment, Cordelia found her words caught in her throat, her jaw twitching as raspy noises escaped her tongue instead. It wasn't until she saw Alison furrow her brows that Cordelia lifted a hand to her mouth and forced a cough, finally responding to Alison's gratitude after bowing her head forward and briefly closing her eyes.

"You are very welcome, La— Alison." The blonde-haired ghost's shoulders stiffened after her hasty correction, her eyes squeezing shut tighter for several seconds when they started to sting and water. She couldn't help it. She never expected the day would come where a living person thanked her for helping them. "After everything you have been put through since your arrival to Button House, I am pleased I could be of service."

'And I mean that. Truly.'

Cordelia caught the living woman's smile fading and her eyes averting to the nearby wall once she'd pulled herself together, her awkwardness at the Victorian ghost's polite mannerisms very palpable.

"… Yeeeeeaaaaaaah," Alison mumbled before she loudly cleared her throat. "Still, thank you— Uh…" The brunette pursed her lips with a squint. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Cordelia."

"Right. Cor-de-lia. Got it." There was a short pause until Alison animatedly gestured her hands at the walls on either side of her. "And you're just gonna hang out in here for the day?"

Cordelia raised her brows at the strange question, but she didn't dwell on it. Alison was still struggling to wrap her head around this situation as much as she was and considering the strange and out-of-the-blue things Cordelia recalled she herself had spouted last night, she wouldn't be surprised if Alison was doing the same.

"Likely not," she answered sincerely. After all, she had only just woken up and needed time to reflect on everything before she figured out what she needed to do from here. "Though I shall try not to disturb you should we cross paths."

Alison nodded along and did a double thumbs-up. "Cool, cool." She started backing up to the bedroom door as she jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. "So… I guess I'll see you around then?"

Cordelia bit her lip to stop an amused smile from slipping onto her face, recognising how unsure the living woman was attempting to converse with her. "Assuming I have not disappeared, possibly, yes."

"Ha… Yeah…" Alison commented with a forced laugh and smile, pointing to her temple with a finger. "'Cause you're technically in my— Good joke."

'It is not entirely a joke, though you would not understand in your current state of mind should I attempt to elaborate…'

The blonde-haired woman allowed the ghost of a smile to appear for the briefest of seconds in response. But after Alison had turned around, her face fell to its default composed expression as she watched the living woman open the door, step out into the corridor and then shut it behind her with a gentle click.

At first, Cordelia didn't budge from her current spot, listening to the muffled footfalls of Alison's retreating feet making their way out of the west wing. It wasn't until the sounds finally faded away from her ears that the young Victorian ghost found the will to speak.

Cordelia released a loud groan, flung her head back and buried her face deep into her palms, ignoring her spectre body's involuntary jerk at the spasm that shot up the back of her neck.

"Ugh, what a mess. That could not have gone any more terribly than it already has."

But then the familiar disembodied and muffled voice belonging to Humphrey suddenly spoke up, forcing her head to snap forwards and her hands to drop to her front with a startled blink. "I disagree! You've managed to talk to the new lady of the house longer than the rest of us have!"

"… Humphrey?" Cordelia uttered and furrowed her brows, blue eyes darting at every nook and cranny of her room in search of the mentioned ghost's severed head. She was trying to avoid craning her neck because of her aches. "Where are you?"

"I'm outside the door!" he replied instantly, prompting Cordelia to walk to the bedroom door at following the sound of his muffled voice.

Cordelia paused in front of the door and poked her upper body through into the corridor outside, briefly sweeping her gaze across the floor until she spied the short, brunette and curly haired head of Humphrey close by. He was settled in the bottom-right corner of the corridor close to her door, conveniently facing her way from where he lay on his right side. It was a wonder Alison never spotted him there, Cordelia thought.

"How long have you been there?" she asked after a perplexed blink.

"No idea. It's a little foggy," Humphrey answered with an awkward smile. "But it was definitely before eight o'clock, because I woke up to Lady B's screaming."

"Didn't we all?" Cordelia replied, though her eyes soon drooped at knowing exactly what Humphrey was inadvertently attempting to imply with his remark. "You heard everything then, did you?"

"Pretty much."

"Of course you did," Cordelia said through an exasperated sigh, her shoulders sagging a little. "Though I was expecting someone to uncover my secret act of sabotage sooner or later…"

Humphrey moved the corners of his lips up and down like he was using his mouth to imitate a shrug. "Eh, look on the bright side. It could've been worse than me."

"Oh, undoubtedly, sir." A certain Julian Fawcett came to Cordelia's mind. "Not that it matters who the eavesdropper would have been." She lightly shook her head and closed her eyes. "Word will reach the others soon enough and conflict is bound to arise. From where do I go from here? Because I know not what to do."

A short pause fell between the two ghosts for several seconds before Humphrey spoke up again, a faint frown creasing his brow.

"Sounds like you've got something on your mind." Cordelia opened her eyes and nodded in confirmation. "Need a listening ear? I promise I won't tell anyone."

The Victorian ghost instinctively opened her mouth to object; however, she soon closed it after Humphrey's words properly processed in her head, her brows furrowing in thought and her eyes momentarily flitting to the ceiling.

'While I have avoided Humphrey thus far to prevent any word of my actions reaching the Captain, he and the others are going to find out what I did eventually. What do I gain to lose conversing with Humphrey about my muddled thoughts, in that case?'

"That would be most helpful, thank you, Humphrey," Cordelia finally said, making Humphrey smile.

"Good! We could go somewhere a little more private, if you want to talk without the others overhearing."

Cordelia lifted a brow out of curiosity. "Did you have somewhere in mind?"

Humphrey turned his eyes towards one of the windows in the corridor at the muffled tweeting of birds coming from the garden outside. "… Outside, maybe? It is a beautiful morning out there. Would be a shame to pass it up."

Cordelia hummed in agreement, beginning to feel her sombre mood lifting a little at the proposal; a stroll about the Button House grounds was just what she needed to wake herself up. "I couldn't agree more."

Thomas Thorne may have fancied himself as Button House's self-proclaimed 'resident poet', but if Cordelia had to name one ghost whom she believed was much more capable of painting a picture with words, then Lady Fanny Button won hands down. Despite her rough exterior and judgemental attitude, the descriptions of the house and the estate that Cordelia had heard Fanny use during one of her trigger-tempered and passionate rants certainly put Thomas' own poetry to shame, especially as the Victorian ghost often found herself recalling them the most whenever she strolled about the manor house or its grounds. This included while she traversed the edge of the overgrown and tangled grass of the fields along the fence separating her from the gravelled driveway, with Humphrey tucked snuggly in the crook of her left arm.

Cordelia once heard Fanny describe the area as 'a vast and calm sea of green', and the young blonde was inclined to agree with her on that. Although certainly in need of a good trim after being neglected following the passing of Heather, its gentle and synchronised swaying against the faint breeze coming through certainly reminded Cordelia of waves gently rolling away from the shore, the dew-covered and lush tips shimmering in the light of the morning sun casting itself over the estate and stretching out as far as the eye could see. For a moment, the eye-catching scenery almost distracted the young woman enough to make her forget that she was technically dead; what a shame that the reminder came in her inability to be affected by the changes in nature's elements anymore, she lamented.

Either way, with not a single soul (quite literally) in sight aside from herself and her beheaded Tudor companion outside, it made for the perfect backdrop for the biologically younger ghost to get Humphrey up to speed on her predicament without worrying about any meddling ghosts lurking about.

"Ah, I see!" Humphrey exclaimed once Cordelia finished explaining everything. "So, Alison hid in your bedroom to get away from Robin and then you convinced her to stay put to stop the others from disturbing her rest for a bit?"

"Precisely," Cordelia affirmed, prompting Humphrey to knit his brows together in thought and purse his lips a bit.

"I'm not surprised you helped her. Though I am a little at the fact it took you so long to step into the Captain's plan."

"You are aware of what the others have been up to?"

"Oh, yes! 'Resident earwig', me!"

Cordelia shook her head out of mild amusement as the corners of her lips twitched with the urge to smile. Although, the blonde ghost wouldn't have been surprised if there was some truth to it. Humphrey's head did wind up in the strangest of places at times, whether the other ghosts intentionally transported him there or not.

"Yes, well, you are not the only surprised one, my good fellow," Cordelia quietly admitted. "I assumed I was being clever, I suppose, keeping my distance to manipulate the Captain's own tactics against him while I grappled with my indecisiveness. Alison has undergone quite a bit of stress as of late, after all, and while my outspokenness is considered a valuable asset at times, I did not wish to burden her with the conflict from the Captain's and Patrick's opposing views." Cordelia paused to sigh heavily and slowed to a stop close to where the fence connected with the gate of the driveway, her blue eyes downcast. "Yet in truth, instead of helping Alison, I was too fraught with worry over putting her under further duress…"

"But it happened anyway," Humphrey stated matter-of-factly. "It always will, no matter what you do. You can't please everybody, Cordelia, and you certainly can't stop all terrible things from happening."

Cordelia swallowed back the lump that sprung to her throat at Humphrey essentially confirming her reality check, her voice barely above a whisper when she dared to speak again. "I know; last night made me come to my senses." She squeezed her eyes shut and grasped at the middle of her forehead, her voice raising a little in volume and cracking. "Though that hasn't stopped Hesitation continuing to grapple with my thoughts about my decision and what path I shall take henceforth, taunting me with whispers alongside Denial! A wretched pair, indeed!"

Humphrey said nothing in response then, even after Cordelia fell still and quiet, allowing the tranquil air of the sunny morning to occupy the space words would usually fill.

Cordelia eventually shattered it with a sharp intake of breath through her nose and then a slow exhale from her lips, allowing her the strength to open her eyes and lift her head. Bringing Humphrey closer to her person, the Victorian ghost turned to look back at the manor house she'd just walked the length of, her blue eyes drooping in dismay at the vegetation eating away at its walls.

"What happened to me, Humphrey?" she murmured, loud enough for Humphrey to hear her over the gentle wind still whipping round them. "When I still roamed amongst the living, indecision held nary a drop of influence. I knew what I wanted and sought after it without fear of objection." Cordelia held her empty palm close to her face to stare at, wriggling her fingers about slightly. "How could my thinking change so drastically, so recklessly, over the last century and a half I have haunted these grounds?"

"Um… because of how you died?" Humphrey hesitantly suggested with forced emphasis and a raised brow, causing Cordelia to look down at him with a brow of her own raised in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

"It's not talked about amongst us much, the only notable example being Lady B because of the Captain acting like a prat about it."—Cordelia muffled a snort behind her palm at the last part. —"But it's true our deaths have changed us all from who we were when we were still alive. I mean, most of our deaths weren't natural or peaceful, and we've been forced to stay here and not move on like the lucky ones. What sane mind could cope with something like that?"

Cordelia's brows furrowed as she tapped a finger against her chin, her eyes closing to briefly ponder upon Humphrey's words. "I suppose your reasoning is sound, upon reflection. After all, it is why Lady Button reenacts her murder every evening when the clock chimes at her time of death."

"Or why Mary doesn't like walking through people," Humphrey added, prompting Cordelia to nod in agreement.

"Or why you jest about your cause of death at times."

"Or why you can't make a straightforward decision without feeling guilty about it."

Cordelia's eyes snapped open at the last thing Humphrey said, her head sharply turning back to Humphrey as if he'd just spoken to her in another language. "I beg your pardon, sir?" she replied, aghast.

"You want to help Alison, and you feel guilty for not doing more when you believe you should have. But you just said it yourself—you've been worried about doing anything to make Alison's situation worse. Doesn't that sound familiar?"

Realisation smacked into Cordelia like a brick to her face, forcing her head to snap in the direction of Button House once more with her non-existent breath hitching in her throat. That had certainly woken her up.

"By Jove, of course!" Cordelia exclaimed breathlessly. "How did I not notice this before?!"

"Because you're tired?" Humphrey joked, his eyes glancing Cordelia over from head to toe. "No offence, but you do look like you haven't slept a wink."

"Perhaps," Cordelia returned in jest and directed a faint and amused smile at the biologically older ghost.

Although, the Victorian woman knew it wasn't just her lack of sleep potentially clouding her judgement and common sense on the matter.

'I was not foreign to the possibility of my demise influencing my actions and thinking in the past. I have long since suspected it with Lady Heather, after all. But pondering upon my behaviour since Alison's accident… it does clarify the familiarity I have experienced thus far and why I experienced guilt so deeply towards it.'

Cordelia placed her palm to her chest and dug her fingernails into the material of her plaid shirt, around the area that aligned with her stab wound between her shoulder blades.

'My terrible decision making that night is to blame for my demise, that is a fact I have always known. So, when Julian pushed Alison out of the window… well, I was under the impression I had repeated my mistake twice over. And for fear of putting Alison into another dangerous situation courtesy of my acquaintances, perhaps that is why I have been reluctant to partake and why I have struggled to decide what to do. Subconsciously, I was worried I would make another mistake by speaking up, not helped by the actions of Julian and then the disaster that occurred yesterday with the distraction I set up with Robin...'

Cordelia's hand curled into a tight fist against her clothes. 'And yet, as Humphrey has so rightly said, it did not matter in the end. The situation escalated without my involvement, for a second time as well. And my eyes were not open to that properly until Alison fled to my bed chambers, scared out of her wits…'

A moment of silence lingered between the two ghosts before Cordelia broke it by huffing loudly.

"So, what should I do, Humphrey?" she enquired in a quiet voice. Cordelia collected Humphrey's head between her hands and cupped her palms around his ears to hold him up at her eye level, her brows furrowing. "I know now that I cannot continue to allow the rest to do as they please. But Alison is still under the belief that we are not real, and until she can be convinced otherwise, I see no peaceful resolution to the Captain's plan." She frowned. "If I am to stop the follies of our acquaintances and help Alison, then I must grant Alison proof that we are not in her head. But the question is how."

"Hm…" Humphrey hummed and then frowned in thought, his lips and nose simultaneously twitching. Cordelia presumed for a moment that a sneeze was on the horizon and wisely moved his head back to create distance between them, but luckily, it never came. "Well, we know that Alison's husband is the reason she doesn't think we're real. So, maybe figuring out how to convince him is the best place to start."

"And yet what is there to do in that regard?" Cordelia sighed heavily and slowly shook her head. "Unlike Alison, Michael is unable to physically perceive us, let alone hear us."

"True…" Humphrey shifted his eyes in the direction of Button House. "And it's not like we can do another 'Operation Haunt' on 'im."

"Also true," Cordelia despondently agreed, briefly closing her eyes. "Julian and Mary will not participate due to wanting Alison and Michael gone, outside of their own personal reasons. Robin would have no qualms getting to mess with the electricity again, but his capabilities can easily be explained away by faulty wiring like the previous operation. And as for Jemima—"

Cordelia interrupted herself midsentence and stiffened up with a shocked blink at Jemima's voice suddenly sounding within her head.

"But why not tell them? You could scare the lady away with what you can do."

In an instant, the imaginary candlelight above her head was ignited, an idea beginning to brew away like a witch's cauldron.

'That's it! By Jove, that's it!'

"… Cordelia?" Humphrey halted Cordelia's train of thought upon taking note of the biologically younger blonde's frozen expression, bringing her back to reality with the sharp shake of her head and a forced blink. "You alright?"

Cordelia opened her mouth in preparation to answer the male Tudor head, the corners of her mouth twitching with the urge to smile triumphantly at the breakthrough she'd had. However, all that quickly drained away at the loud, high-pitched scream that sliced through the air from behind her.

"What on earth…?" Cordelia began as she whipped round to face the east side of Button House, while Humphrey followed her gaze with his squinted one.

"That sounded like it came from Alison's and Mike's bedroom," he replied, drawing Cordelia's attention to the open second-floor window at the far-left, past the rows of windows that she recognised to be for the ballroom.

It was then she saw it—an orange and brown blur darting past the second-floor window on the far side of the house. The blurry figure was all the Victorian ghost needed to click the final pieces of the puzzle together, the identity of the screamer slipping from her tongue as a breathless whisper before she even realised it.

"Alison…"

A rush of heat rose to Cordelia's face, reigniting the flame in her chest that the Victorian ghost recalled experiencing during her confrontation with Julian following Alison's accident. Her cheeks flushed scarlet, her non-existent bloodstream boiled under the surface of her invisible skin.

The next thing Cordelia knew, she was sprinting, sprinting through the fence and towards the common room windows like her ghostly existence depended on it. She pulled Humphrey close to her front during her run, eliciting a startled cry from the biologically older ghost.

"W-Whoa! What are you doing, Cordelia?!"

And Cordelia answered him without an ounce of hesitation, her voice possessing a hint of a hiss. "What I should have done yesterday, Humphrey."

"Which is…?!"

A scowl graced Cordelia's brow as Humphrey trailed off, her teeth gritting once the two ghosts phased through into the far-left side of the common room and started approaching the east wing stairs.

"Putting a stop to this nonsense plan."

A/N: ... Yeah, so, the latter half of this chapter is ultimately why it took me so damn long to get this chapter done. XD Obviously because of the direction change I took, I needed to get Cordelia to the point where the ghosts gang up on Alison after the montage of them harassing her into the second day, but it didn't make sense for Cordelia to stick by Alison during this time, especially Cordelia herself needed to come to terms with what she'd done and where she was supposed to go from here. Cordelia is vaguely aware that her trauma surrounding her death is pulling the strings regarding her actions and thought process, but as is expected of someone in her position, it is all subconscious. She knows, but she doesn't want to acknowledge it, leading to her indecisiveness and overly convoluted approaches to this situation. The show does occasionally acknowledge how the deaths of each ghost has influenced their current behaviour because of the trauma they've stemmed from it, and Cordelia is no different. But while her actions in the last chapter have given her a reality check now and helped her come to this realisation, she needed a second opinion to reaffirm this for her, hence why I chose Humphrey once again. I had contemplated using one of the ghosts Cordelia has yet to have a one-on-one interaction with, but considering Humphrey is the least selfish of the nine ghosts and is more in tune to the behaviour and personalities of the others than most (the April Fools episode certainly proved that. XD), it made sense Cordelia conversed with him over her inner conflict. Also, I'm not gonna lie, I am loving the budding friendship between Humphrey and Cordelia. XD It wasn't planned, but these two get along so well, it's adorable. Not to mention Humphrey needs more love. Either way, it was a good excuse to keep Cordelia occupied until the ghosts corner Alison in the bedroom again, which is where the next chapter will go into. But that scene will also not play out the way you're going to expect...