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ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 1 year

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Scooby-Doo but make it a ghost story.

(Just hear me out, trust me, I swear it’ll make sense-)

3k words

A man shows up with a paper with an empty signature line, asking you to sell whatever you have left and leave the premises.

He’s not the first to try and tell you to get off your own land, and you doubt he will be the last, but you’ve dealt with his kind before--trim, pristine suits and loud voices speaking big words and legal jargon that still makes your head spin even after the piles of research you’ve done to keep this from happening--so despite his confident posture and degrading sneer, you’re not frightened by him.

You turn him away like the others, and he spits and curses and stomps his feet, giving a tantrum worthy of the most red-cheeked toddlers you’ve seen in your store, piling on threats of how you’ll regret it before storming off. While it is always a bit worrying to have these types pay you a visit, you know the land is yours until you can’t sustain it any longer; and although your business is small, it will take a long while before that will happen.

At least until the word haunted starts spreading through the halls.

You first hear it when you’re re-stocking some shelves near the front. The couple is scurrying out in agitated whispers about ghosts and ghouls and generally unpleasant things accompanied by a stream of vulgar language directed at whoever owned this establishment.

It’s odd, but you don’t think much of it outside of a curious glance at the young cashier who started work here a few weeks ago. He does nothing but shrug to express that his confusion aligns with your own, and you both brush it aside without much thought.

Two days later, he hands in his resignation, pale and a little shaky, nearly running out of the shop the moment he gets the chance.

You find out he was on the closing shift last night, and wouldn’t speak to anyone the next morning until he could get out of there. One of the employees says she heard him feverishly mutter something about ghosts.

It’s worrisome but you get back to work as best you can, trying not to let it bother you.

The next employee who leaves is much louder about it.

You hear it again: GHOSTS. HAUNTED.

Cursed.

You take in a shaky breath, then a couple more to collect yourself before turning to reassure your remaining employees. There’s not many of them. Most of them are kids from homes nearby, just working the hours they could to save for college or to move away. Not all of them are frightened, and they brush aside the others, but even so, you close the shop an hour earlier now so that no one has to stay after dark.

As the winter season comes, that becomes earlier and earlier until everyone is out by four o’clock.

Still, it’s no use. Word spreads like wildfire in small towns, gossiping to tourists too. Some ghost hunters drop by to try their luck but they’re always out by morning or gone completely to goodness knows where. You simply hope they left in a panic and not something else.

You try the police and they find nothing. You hire a detective who runs away yelling about how they don’t deal with ghosts, and all that money is down the drain. You watch as the price of your small business drops and drops until you’re eating strictly canned foods, ramen and the cheapest cereal you can find to try and scavenge for any spare penny you can. Your neighbour tells you again and again that it isn’t worth it and you should just sell. Any employees that remained left quickly, off to find a job that could pay them better than you could until it was just you and your baby cousin left at the till. She’s barely old enough to be working, and there are jobs that pay better out there, but she stubbornly keeps restocking the shelves and ringing up the till whenever stragglers or loud curious teens find their way into the shop. She refuses to leave you.

You try to deal with the problem yourself. You really do. After your cousin goes home for the night you stay, hidden behind boxes with an old bat and wait for whatever it was that was harassing your staff, but when you see it you’re paralyzed. It floats past, eerie, silent, a horrible gaping face, unearthly glow about it, and no sound of footsteps or creaking wires to betray it as a fake. You try to tell yourself it must be fake. It must be. You hide clutching the bat like your life depends on it and shaking like a leaf in the freezing autumn wind gusts. The glow from the thing is greenish as it floats past the boxes you’re hidden behind. Your heart pounds in your ears and goosebumps rise on your arms as it pauses over the boxes. You think for a moment this might be where you die and then it’s floating on before vanishing through a wall.

You run from the shop as fast as you can all the way home and lock every door and window. You stay up all night pressed against the wall, halfway under your covers, sitting up, bat still clenched in your hands. You’re only able to get some sleep when the sun rises a bit.

You follow the path that the ghastly thing took during the opening hours of the shop, finding no trace of it ever existing. Your hands still hurt from how tightly you had clenched the bat all night.

It scared you. Enough to close the doors even earlier.

It was near impossible to keep things running when you could only safely keep the shop open barely half the day. You knew the next time a man with a paper came to the door you wouldn’t be in a position to refuse.

It’s around that time you hear about a group that deals exclusively with your type of problem. Ghosts, goblins, ghouls, witches, warlocks, werewolves, demons; helping people who no one else would help.

You’re desperate. So you grab what remains of your savings and get in your rickety car that you’re honestly surprised still works at this point and go to find them.

They’ve set up shop in a small building on the corner of a street in a town you’ve never heard of.

Mystery Inc. is painted across an old van parked out front and the sign on the door. It’s colourful, almost silly. It doesn't fill you with much confidence but you’re desperate, and the bright colours do at least make you smile.

A young man shakes your hand when you enter the door, polite, not commenting on your haggard appearance--nonstop driving and energy drinks for an amount of time you didn’t really want to think about probably did a number on the circles under your eyes. You’re pretty sure your hands were shaking from the caffeine. He warmly welcomes you in and introduces himself as Fred.

A young red-headed girl in heels-- fifteen? Sixteen perhaps?-- takes your hand and helps you sit down in a seat near a desk and before you know it there’s a blanket over your shoulders and a warm cup of some non-caffeinated tea in your hands. At this point it tastes like nothing more than hot water but it does wonders to stop your hands from shaking.

The dog startles you; a massive Great Dane, a little dopey looking with a brightly coloured collar. It's sitting at a table in the corner with a very scrawny looking teen, peach fuzz on his chin and a shirt that must be a few sizes too big judging by the way that it hangs off his wiry frame. There’s a large array of foods on the table in front of them, but they’ve paused their snacking to wave at you. Both the teen and the dog. You wave back and that seems to satisfy them enough for them to tuck back into their meal eating more like what you’ve seen black holes in movies consume things like. It’s 3am. You try not to stare.

The sound of a chair sliding draws your attention and a different freckled young lady sits down in front of you and adjusts the thickest glasses you’ve ever seen.

They’re children, you realize after a moment. Teenagers. Hardly older than your cousin. Their clothing seems a little out of style, but pristine considering they looked like something your grandparents would wear. Clothes were nicer back than anyways, and you have your fair share of hand-me-downs so you don’t comment or think about it much.

They ask you what brought you here and you do your best to share. It feels like mad ramblings but under their watchful eyes and attentive ears you find yourself relaxing at least a bit. It’s a strange situation and you apologize numerous times, how odd it is to be going to children half your age for help, but they do little more than brush the apology aside with a wave of their hands and a reassuring pat to your shoulder.

“Well…” says Fred, stroking his chin thoughtfully, “it’s not much to go off of, but we’ll see what we can do.”

They drive you home and you sleep in the back of the van with the massive dog and the scrawny teen. They wake you up only to ask for directions and you give them as best you can in your sleep deprived state.

Somehow they reach the shop by morning, which feels unreal when it took you three days to get to their office, but you count your blessings rather than question them and invite the group inside, figuring you must have just been more lost than you realized on the way there.

The dog and the scrawny teen (Shaggy, you think they call him, and you’re inclined to agree) are always searching for some kind of food. They raid your shop’s back fridge and you don’t bother to stop them since there’s not much in there anyways, and they seem half-starved despite the large meal you saw them consume back at their headquarters. They find more than you thought you had in there and carry it all out in an impressive stack that they consume in mere seconds. You don’t have much to pay them for the job they’re doing, so you don’t bother stopping them from raiding the snack shelves at the front counter either.

You show Fred and the girls the back room where things happen. You introduce them to your cousin who they politely ask some questions too. It’s clear they’ve done this before. Any inquiries are straight to the point, they share with you what they find. You get the strangest feeling they’ve been doing this for decades with how confidently they walk around a supposedly haunted shop.

Velma, the freckled one with glasses, throws around some large words you don’t understand with some pale green dust on the end of her finger. Their first clue, which Fred seems excited about. He suggests they head back to the van to take a drive around town for further investigation while she runs tests on the substance found in the shop.

Shaggy makes a comment about being hungry and Scooby nods his head. The ground is littered with snack wrappers and you make a note to clean those up.

Daphne, the one who patted your hand and gave you tea looks a little lost, simply floating around after the others and nodding along with the clues they find until Fred mentions heading out, then she quickly takes charge directing them out to the van. They bid you a goodnight, telling you to get some more sleep and they’ll handle the rest.

You worry about them but your cousin agrees and shoos you home.

The next morning comes after a restless sleep and they’re still there. You aren’t sure whether you’re relieved or worried over that fact. They stayed in the shop overnight, they report. Shaggy and Scooby are quaking but the others look unphased.

“Terrifying! Big ugly green face, a g-g-g-GHOST!”

Scooby gives a mournful ruff in agreement in something that sounds almost startlingly close to real words.

Velma sighs. “Shaggy, Scooby, there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“Oh yeah? How’d you explain tall, floaty and creepy, huh?”

“Wires most likely. Glow in the dark paint. A costume.”

Shaggy and Scooby shake their heads in unison.

You’re just glad they’re alright.

“You don’t have to do this,” you tell them. It breaks your heart but the little old shop isn’t worth the lives of four teenages and their large puppy.

“It’s our job,” Fred tells you with a cool, comforting hand on your shoulder. “Trust us. I have a plan. And, after our investigation around town, I get the feeling we might already know who this ghost of yours is.”

It seems impossible but you and your baby cousin do your best to help them set up a rather elaborate trap. It’s confusing to you, but the others seem fairly confident in Fred’s direction.

They ussher you out for your own safety, ignoring your protests of “what about yours?” and tell you to wait until they call you back.

You do. Nervously pacing your house. Your baby cousin’s asleep at the table. It’s been a long few days so you’re not surprised, even if she made a valiant effort to stay up with you, it was only a matter of time before it caught up to her. You throw a blanket over her but decide against moving her to the bed, she’s a light sleeper and you don’t want to wake her.

You don’t chew your nails often, but they’re bitten down to the skin by the time your phone rings. It makes you jump and you answer it in a mad scramble, nearly dropping your phone in the process.

There’s a lot of white noise and garbled static that makes you wonder if it was a butt dial until you recognize snatches of Fred’s voice speaking out from the mess telling you it was safe to come out now.

You have just enough thought to shake your cousin awake so she isn’t left behind at your place, and the two of you race over to the shop together. Your heart’s pounding and worry runs rampant. It was impossible to tell Fred’s tone over the garbled static, but you pray that nothing went wrong and that they are alright.

You arrive to the ghost that has been terrorizing your shop, tied up on the ground with the four teens and Scooby standing over it. It’s strange to see something that phased through a wall restrained by ropes and you can’t help but keep your distance, still unsettled, even in the daylight. Its wide gaping jaw and empty eyes still looked too-real.

But the group stood by it like it was nothing and the police arrived a few moments later, having been called by the teens shortly after they’d contacted you.

It was a costume. Fake. As they said. The mask was tugged off and you recognized it as your neighbour, the one who had been so insistent you sell.

The group takes turns explaining how they came to the conclusion, what led to the capture, the motivation behind it. It feels practiced and comfortable for them as they spin the story and explanation. You hardly hear a word, just relieved that it was over.

An officer pulls you aside to get your testimony and you want more than anything for them to be gone. They ask you about your involvement, and you inform them of the bare minimum, directing them to the teens, who seem to know much more than you do at this point, but when you go to point them out you find them missing. Van and all. Somehow having already pulled out of the driveway and driven away without anyone noticing.

You give the name Mystery Inc. and show the traps if only to get them out faster and eventually they leave after relentless grilling. You would have preferred to keep them out of this entirely but it was necessary to get rid of your “ghost”. The one that turned you away when you asked for help doesn’t seem at all remorseful and it rubs you the wrong way so you don’t bother to bid any of them goodbye.

You sleep for a few days before you get back in your car and drive to Mystery Inc.’s office. You never did agree on a price but you have an envelope with some cash inside of it and more than anything you want to thank them for what they did for you. Your cousin is in the passenger's seat next to you. It takes another three days to find the office again, but eventually you do.

You don’t recognize it at first; it was impossible too. The colourful sign declaring it the home of Mystery Inc. hung sideways, barely hanging on to the front of the building; the colours washed out and so weathered you couldn’t make out the text on it anymore.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” your cousin asks. She’s clutching the envelope in her hands.

You step out of the car feeling like you’ve pulled up into another world. The windows are smashed, the front steps are falling apart, the building’s even leaning, the door at an odd angle on its hinges; the kind of wear and tear that could only come from years of erosion.

You shoulder your way in through the front door, kicking up dust when you finally get it to move. It swings open violently, screeching on rusted hinges.

The desk is where you remember it, but it’s coated in dust.

It’s completely abandoned.

No one had set foot inside for years by the looks of it. Except…

You feel a chill run down your spine as your eyes fall on a single set of footprints that match your own shoes, tracking back to a chair where an old moth-eaten blanket looked like it hadn’t moved in ages and a cracked cup that still has some liquid in it.

Your cousin calls to you and you glance back at her.

She seems unsettled and you can’t imagine the expression on your own face right now.

Ghosts aren’t real, you remember Velma saying, and the hair on the back of your neck stands up.

You leave the envelope on the desk and drive home in silence. You drop your cousin off at home, bidding her goodnight before heading to your own house.

Neither of you say it.

You dare to look them up and find Mystery Inc. doesn’t exist. At least not anymore.

You don’t sleep much that night, the memory of Fred’s cold reassuring hand on your shoulder replaying over and over in your mind.

Shaggy and Scooby’s candy wrappers are still in the pockets of your jacket, you meant to throw those out. You wonder if they’re still hungry; If they’re ever not hungry.

The shop becomes rather popular after the incident. Prim men and woman at your door with papers aren’t a threat any longer and you turn them away with ease, a flood of customers at your back.

The police don’t contact you about it. How could they? They saw them too. They took testimonies from them themselves. You can imagine what it must have felt like to find the town Coolsville they said they had come from no longer exists and neither do they.

Your cousin moves away to go to college eventually but she still keeps in contact. She says her classmates tell her she has the best ghost stories.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” a friend of yours says.

One of the wrappers is still in your pocket, even years later.

“Sure,” you say. And try not to think about it.

When they need help you give them the name Mystery Inc.

A few days later they’re less keen to tell you ghosts aren’t real.

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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 30 days

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Code Blue Ch. 47- Punch Drunk Love

Summary: It's one step forward and two steps back for Lee and Jo. The same can be said for Jo and Craig, only their encounter "lands" on a more comical note. Jo wants to play detective. Dave receives a message from beyond the grave.

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst, mentions of murder, drinking, intoxication, ghost child

Chapter characters: Lee, Josie, Craig, David, Jacob

Chapter word count: 6,699

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Salem, Massachusetts

March 21, 2023

An hour had passed since Lee had left you in the boathouse after his regretful blowup. As he sat in his lake house bedroom, staring blankly out the window at the gray sky morning, he could hear the muffled voices of you, Britt and Jason downstairs and then all went quiet, except for the creaking of his door opening.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head in sadness when he felt you softly sit down on the opposite side of the bed. As your movement ceased and you began to speak, a subtle breeze laced with the biting scent of your intoxicating vampire perfume flowed straight to Lee's nose, causing his heart to palpitate as he eagerly inhaled it.

"Jason and Britt are gone, just as you wanted. I think I should go too as soon as the laundry finishes."

Lee turned his head to the side and could see that you were sitting with your back to him.

"I'm sorry about your brother."

"What for? You were right Lee. He and Britt shouldn't be here. It was my stupid idea to bring him here to help Britt."

"It was both of our ideas Jo and it was for the best. Now he can take care of the woman he loves and leave us out of it. I don't want any part of this shit anymore Jo."

"I can agree with you there. Neither do I."

Your weary tone spoke a frightening volume to Lee.

"Does that include me...Jo?"

Your soft voice became hesitant and shaky as you still wouldn't turn to face him.

"I...I don't know what to do anymore Lee. All these secrets are like an incurable cancer and every time I believe it's in remission because you tell me it is, the secrets metastasize and honestly, I don't know if that is even the worst part anymore because we both just accused each other of killing Elizabeth."

"Yep." Lee softly and sorrowfully agreed as he nodded, then turned to face your backside.

"The only difference is, I stood by you and tried to protect you over it by disposing of the blatant evidence I found in my car, but you...you allowed Luke to put doubts in your mind with his circumstantial bullshit and you turned on me. You're the only one who's ever truly known the real me and yet you actually believed I was capable of doing something so repulsive, that I am some monster."

You finally turned to face him with an anxious tone.

"Lee...I am sorry. I know in my heart you didn't hurt Liz and yes, I stupidly let Luke twist my thoughts. God, it's just that lately, your behavior has been so erratic and even violent and you won't tell me why!"

"What..so I'm not allowed to be human and have emotions that happen to include anger?? Everything that has been going on is why Jo and we all react differently to stress, you know that. The day you tried to justifiably attack Landy's sister, THAT was violent but I didn't believe that could make you a murderer. Look at the violent shit Luke has done. He deserved that vase to the head. And Carpenter deserved my fist in his face and Gordon deserved his ass handed to him."

"I get all of that. I do. Can't you put yourself in my shoes just for a minute about Liz though? You cut her seatbelt to mess with her and kept that from me and when you had finally learned the truth that she was responsible for Jacob's death, you and my brother plotted right in front of me about taking her out and framing Ethan and you refused to help her when she was brought to the ER. And now I find out you were off living some double life with Luke that involved blowing up terrorists and god knows what else. What was I supposed to believe?"

"Me Jo. You were supposed to believe me. You just said you believe in your heart that I didn't do it, so which is it Jo? Are you with me or are you against me because it's feeling a lot like you're still against me and if that's the case, then why are you even here?? Jesus Jo...what I did for you, you haven't even said a word about that. Ethan's clearly been watching us. He snuck in here before he killed Liz and took my car, my knife and your clothes, then after he took care of her, he planted everything, all in hopes of framing you because we both know he wants you away from me and yes Jo, at first I believed you had done it, but ONLY due to having some blackout break in reality from your pills and all that wine."

"Something still don't seem right Lee. Why didn't he just kill me then? Wouldn't that have been the easiest and fastest way to get me out of your life and.."

"Jo, stop, god, don't say this shit. Just the thought of him being in this house and anywhere near you......"

Lee paused and rubbed his palms over his face, releasing a stressed sigh, then continued.

"Besides the most important reason, that being that he knew I would come and kill him without hesitation...he still needed to cover his ass in her death because he knew he would be a number one suspect. We weren't supposed to find it Jo. I'm willing to bet Ethan was going to drop an anonymous tip to the police about the evidence and I honestly thought that was why Luke was here, so now, I'm also feeling something isn't right because no one has showed up. Regardless Jo, I risked everything for you, my career, my freedom, because that would all be gone if it were found out I destroyed all the evidence and I DID it to make it all go away for you and like some stupid school boy, I actually thought you'd be impressed."

"What I am is scared Lee. I understand why you did what you did and I DO appreciate it, I promise you, but you have still got to get rid of that knife. He killed her with it and it can be matched up to her wounds."

"I'll take care of it. It will never be found."

"And then what Lee? We just go on with our lives as if nothing ever happened? I mean, first of all, Luke is never going to give up. It's his job now and...."

Lee sarcastically snickered. "It's just his way to feel like he's a good person."

"God Lee, I just don't get it. When he came back for Landy, you and he seemed like really great friends, but with what I just overheard between you and my brother, how is that if Luke supposably set you up as you put it?"

Lee shook his head in frustration. "There's no supposably about it Jo. He did what he did and we were both just trying to move on from it, from that life. I just wanted to forget it and then he just shows back up here as if nothing ever happened and his presence brings back all those bad memories and all those feelings of having to be on guard every second. None of that life was ever supposed to involve you. I didn't hide it from you to be sneaky or deceitful. I'm not that person anymore and I don't want to be, but he brings it out of me and not only that, but I'm not oblivious to his desire of you either. I just want him to go back to where he came from and stay there, in the past. You and I were finally getting it right and he swoops in and fucks our forever all up and now here we are, yet once again. And I know Jo, I know that everything happening is not all because of him. I know it's me too and god, I am trying so hard to be the man you want me to be and that you deserve after all you have been through in the past, but all I have done is drag you through hell and let you down over and over again. You're this angel of light and I'm nothing but a devil of darkness."

Lee's voice had become choked up and if there was one thing that tugged at your heart strings, it was seeing him cry.

"Please don't speak about yourself that way." you compassionately said as you scooted over to him and rubbed his back.

"You're not evil baby. You just feel cornered and like no one is on your side and I cannot apologize enough for ever thinking you could have hurt Liz. All that murder plot talk with Jason was nothing but anger. Your fears had just been validated that she was responsible for Jacob's death and as far as not wanting to help her at the hospital is quite understandable. I overreacted about all that Lee. I know in my heart what a compassionate and kind person you are. It's one of the many reasons I fell for you, so fast and so damn hard. And as far as myself, I am certainly no angel. I have a dark side. You've seen it, especially around Megan. She brings something out of me just like Luke does to you. I don't want to be that person either so I get it. Now you though, you had every reason to believe I could have done it and what you did to protect me, the sacrifices you were willing to make, means everything to me. That is FAR from letting me down. I'm so sorry for how I reacted. So you know, I...I would have done the same for you...without hesitation."

You slid your hand down his bare arm and laced your fingers into his. Lee softly sighed and tried to smile as he then placed his other hand over the union.

"I look at you Jo and I...I just love you and it terrifies me. It terrifies me what I would do for you. I did not wait for you. I didn't even know you were coming. When you walked into my life, I didn't know it was you because I didn't know there WAS a you. You were never a list, a goal, an expectation, a dream, ok maybe you were a dream. You were a surprise, a gift, an adventure, a new beginning to a story I thought I would never have and I am scared to death of losing you and that you won't love me anymore if you know all of the things I've done. I'm scared of a world without you."

"You know I feel the same way about you Lee. It's patience and trust that I am running out of, not love. But...is love enough? Even for us? You keep lying to me and do understand why, but it doesn't make it right. Like you said, your past didn't have anything to do with me and I agree, but when it affects me, it does. It's affecting us Lee. I've looked past your secrets and forgiven you twice now and yet, here we are again. Lord knows I'm not strong enough to stay away from you. I've tried... but I'll have to find the strength Lee, because I won't do this anymore. I don't want to leave you, especially now with all of this and also with tomorrow being the one month anniversary of your father's passing and your birthday being four days away, but it's the third time now of being side swiped by your secrets and it's certainly no fucking charm. We have to trust each other. You have to trust ME and tell me what happened between you and Luke since it involves Peter...and it involves who you were and I want...I deserve to know all of you. Remember that time we danced in your other house and you looked right into my eyes and sang that song, All of Me, to me? You said you give me all of you. I thought you meant it. It's all or nothing Lee. Release this weight and let me help you carry it."

Lee kissed your hand and softly sighed as he gently rested his forehead on yours and gave you a tender eskimo kiss, then brought his sapphire eyes to yours.

"Of course I meant it. Let me show you. Let me make love to you. I need you Jo."

His warm, sweet breath over your mouth was driving you mad with desire and all you wanted to do was press your lips to his and tear his clothes off. Being this close to him was dangerous. You would always become puddy for him to shape and mold you just the way he wanted. You were a puppet on his strings. You were simply spellbound. Lee had healed all the hardships you endured before him, bringing you a peace you had never known and just a simple kiss to his bewitching lips, that alone had the power to render every part of you helpless, sucking your mind, body and soul right into his....but you couldn't give in to him. Not this time. As his lips lowered to yours, you regained control by softly but very reluctantly pushing him back before it was too late.

"Lee, please. No. Sex is not going to make this better or make this go away. Stop deflecting and tell me what happened."

Lee released an obvious sigh of frustration as he closed his eyes and lightly pursed his lips.

"I want to tell you baby. I do. I...I've just never spoken about it to anyone. As I said, I was just trying to bury it and move on. I certainly did not expect this to ever come up, especially now. Feeling cornered is an understatement. There's so much happening. SO much to deal with already. Can't we just do this another time Jo? I will tell you, I prom..."

You pulled your hand from his and stood right up in a huff.

"Don't you promise me anything! I don't believe your promises anymore Lee, because you break them, every single time. You swore to me you had told me everything, but then more dirty laundry always appears and to me, that is a lie...and now, you're making excuses and trying to fuck me to get out of telling me the truth. Putting it off is just making this worse. There's never a right time Lee. You just need to do it. You need to trust me. I'm not going to leave because of your past, but I WILL leave if you can't be honest. I am sorry you feel backed against a wall but it's now or never Lee. I love you more than anything in this world but I am so over this!!"

Lee stood up too and in his anger, he said something he shouldn't have.

"So, it's your way or the highway. Is that it?? Then just go if you want Jo. You would clearly be better off anyways. I said I would tell you and I meant it, but in my own time. I don't like being forced. I'm not ready. Take it or leave it."

"Wow. Well...ok then. Guess I'll leave it. Maybe I WILL be better off because CLEARLY you refuse to change or even try to. You know what? I'm done. I need to go see my mother, see if I still have an apartment and try to find Dave. I'll get my things later."

Lee watched in shock as you whirled out of the room and then he raced down the stairs behind you, pleading for you not to go, for he never thought you would choose that option.

"Jo wait!"

"Wait for what Lee?" you snapped as you tugged your leggings up and slipped your boots on. "You just told me to go."

"I didn't mean it like that. I said take it or leave it. I gave you a choice."

"And I chose! Just like you did."

You grabbed your purse, took out your keys and headed for the door, but not without Lee stepping in front of you.

"Yeah...and quite easily too. So that's just it?? Fuck forever? Jo don't do this. Please. Everything that you want to know, it's not just some quick and simple story to tell. It's dark, it's traumatizing and it's terrifying.

"THIS is dark, traumatizing and terrifying. I'm tired Lee. I'm so fucking tired. Even if you tell me now or tell me later, it will just be half of it, just like it always is, although you will swear to me that you told me everything and then I'll find out the rest later, not by you but by accident and I'm just over it. I don't want to do this anymore. I want a normal relationship and this is far from normal and it's a perfect example of why people put walls up. To protect ourselves and I stupidly let mine down for you. Not anymore. I'm rebuilding it. Now get out of my way Lee."

"Jo. Don't go. Please. Don't leave me. Let me fix this."

"You can't. I don't believe a word you say anymore. I don't believe I would even know what I know if it weren't for overhearing you because I don't believe you were ever going to tell me."

"Ok, that is not true. You don't even understand. I was going to tell you. I had to... or I would have never been able to ask...."

Lee paused with a hard sigh and desperate eyes that quickly wandered from yours.

"Ask? Ask what Lee??"

His hands went to his hips, his head lowered and his eyes closed.

"I...I can't...not yet. Not like this."

"Oh my god....I can't even right now. Goodbye Sam."

As you stormed past him and slammed the door shut behind you, Lee stood dazed and motionless, softly answering your question.

"Ask you to marry me."

You jogged down to the garage where your Monte Carlo was being concealed from the bar thugs and off you went, without a care if they found you. If they did, you would just tell them your car had been stolen and you just got it back. If they didn't believe you and tried something, then you'd give them an attitude adjustment on top of their heads with your Kubotan, Hank Williams Jr. style, just like you did to Luke which dropped the hunky herculean like a sack of potatoes.

For the entire twenty minute drive to your mom's in silence, your arms were locked straight on the wheel as you focused on your breathing so you wouldn't have a panic attack. Everything had escalated so quickly in only a few hours. One minute, you and Lee were dancing in the kitchen and sharing breakfast together, basking in the afterglow following a beautiful night of making love and the next, you couldn't get away from him fast enough. Did you overreact? Should you have stayed and let him speak? You tried this once before, leaving him, which that lasted a whole hot minute and it changed absolutely nothing, so how could you, would you, do it this time when all you wanted to do was turn around and run back into his arms?

The visit with your mom was nerve-racking in itself between trying to hide your emotions over Lee and her trying to hide hers over the horrific ordeal of finding a butchered and still breathing Elizabeth the evening prior and then there was your sister. Your mom informed you that Megan hadn't come home last night and wasn't answering her phone. Of course you couldn't have cared less and wished she'd never come back, but you still tried to make your mom feel better and reminded her that this was not out of the ordinary for Megan to do. It made you think of what Luke told you, that she had actually came to the police station of her own free will and told him that she believed Ethan took Blaise because he thinks he is her father. You had to wonder what would make her turn on him like that. Did she finally see what a dangerous piece of shit he was? Speaking of Blaise, it was now time to go see Craig and you dreaded that almost as much as you dreaded large bodies of water.

As you drove to your apartment, all you could think about was that poor little girl and prayed she was alright wherever she was. For her sake, for Craig's and even for yours, because you knew what Craig's reaction would be when he found out, if he didn't already know, that you knew Liz dropped Blaise off with Angel and you didn't tell him. You also knew he would believe you did it intentionally, which was in no way true whatsoever, to get back at him for not telling you Jason was alive. The guilt was unbearable. How could you have been so self absorbed?

You parked the car and tried calling Dave again before you went into the lion's den and once again, no answer, so you left another voicemail.

"Dave, seriously. Are you THAT mad at me?? If you are, then fine, I can deal with that but at least just text me and tell me you are alright, or text Britt if you don't want to talk to me ok? I'm so worried about you. There's things you need to know about Liz if you don't already and...I really need my friend right now. Ok...bye..."

As you got out of the car, you could hear the muffled sound of music coming from the complex and the only one who blared it like that was Craig when he was working in his art studio. Granted, it was a small complex with only four other tenants but If you could hear it, then so could they and you had to wonder how they could deal with it, BUT, at least his taste in music was right up your alley and when you entered the building, the artist's distinct voice could not be mistaken. You always loved a good David Bowie tune....and this one seemed rather fitting for what you walked in on. How relevant it was for you as well.

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Upon nearing his wide open studio door, the strong odor of paint and sweet cigars stung your nose. You weren't sure what was worse as you walked in. The smell or the vision of him lying on a wheeled platform, desperately engrossed in smearing yellow paint over a giant canvas with his bare hands, silver rings on and all.

The closer you got as you walked up behind him undetected, it was clear that he was not only drunk as you glanced down at his glass of blood red wine and two empty wine bottles on the floor, but he was in a very deep state of despair. He appeared as if he had just rolled out of bed, although he didn't look as if he had even slept at all as your astonished eyes rolled over him from head to toe. His dark hair was wildly awry as was his normally groomed facial hair and his feet were as bare as his revealing bare bottomed butt crack which you highly doubted he gave two fucks about considering anyone could walk in just as you did.

You now had the problem of getting his attention without startling him, for you knew why he was in the condition he was in because the last time you had just walked in unannounced, you were accidentally almost struck with a can of blue paint due to his fit of rage, and right now, he looked like a ticking time bomb ready to explode. With all that taken into consideration, you decided to just pull the plug on the music and hope he didn't pull a gun on you this time as you tensed up from the thought.

Craig quickly sat up at the sound of silence, gave you a curious glance over and then the only thing he reached for was his paint covered glass that he picked up by the rim and drank from after asking you "what's up?"

"Hey." you softly answered. "Sorry to just barge in but...I...I have been trying to reach you. Are...are you alright?"

"Well now. Is that somewhat of a rhetorical question? Do I look alright? Unless you're here to tell me that you know where my daughter is, then that would be a big fat no. Fancy seeing you here just Josie. I thought you hated my guts?"

Judging by his well noted inebriated sarcasm, you could tell it was going to be a walk on egg shells type of conversation and you still weren't exactly sure if he knew that you knew Blaise had been right within his grasp before she vanished into thin air. You figured he would have instantly called you out if he knew, but Craig didn't seem to be the type that got straight to the point about things. You had the distinct feeling he was the type that liked to toy with people like a cat does with it's prey. An intimidation tactic per se and it was surely working, so you decided to just come clean and face his claws.

"No. I..I don't know where she is and I...I don't hate you. Not even a little bit but you may not like me so much. Craig I...about Blaise...I need to tell you something that I should have much sooner. I just...I didn't know...how to."

There was a brief silence as he peered up at you and you could see the curiosity growing in his dilated blues.

"Not even a little bit huh? Hmmph. Must be pretty bad, whatever you did, if you're worried about me not liking you after what I did to you. Alright then love, I'll bite. Is my curiosity going to kill the cat? You seem pretty skittish right now."

The fact that he basically just read your mind regarding the cat references made you gulp and then it just got worse when you couldn't find the words.

"Cat....got your tongue just Josie?"

"Ok, please just stop with the cat thing already."

"Mrrrow!! Feisty one are we?" he shot off as he grinned and raised his hand, making a swiping gesture with his fingers.

"Craig! Stop it and listen before I lose my nerve."

"Jeesh. I think you need this wine as bad as I do. Have a drink. It'll calm your nerves. There's another bottle in the fridge. Would you be a doll and fetch it for us?"

"It's....10 a.m. Craig."

"Yeah and your point is? There's no time restrictions for drinking in your own home and even if there were, I don't follow the rules. I make them. It's 5 o'clock all the time in my world."

"Fine. Whatever."

You went and got the wine and a clean glass for yourself and him too because you couldn't stand watching him put his lips on wet paint.

"Here. Wipe your hands off." you commanded as you handed him a towel and opened the wine.

"Yes mommy." he chuckled and did as you told him. "Now. Have a seat and let's hear it."

"I..I'd rather stand."

"Suit yourself then. Cheers."

Craig raised his glass and knocked it all back in three gulps, then gazed up at you with a happy grin as you took a nervous sip.

"What the hell was that? Only a mouse could get drunk on that. Come on now, down the hatch."

You felt like a mouse alright, caught in a mouse trap as your anxiety began to slowly choke you. Enough was enough. You downed the wine and blurted out what you did.

"Craig..I..I knew Blaise was at Angel's before she was taken and I should have told you but I didn't because I was dealing with Jason and some other things."

His reaction was just as you had expected it would be. Shock, which was written all over his exhausted face.

"Is that so?"

"Y..yes." you softly squeaked and then began rambling. "And I..I am SO SO sorry. I was at Lee's and I saw Liz drop her off and I..I did try to call you. I texted too but you didn't answer or reply and then some other things happened and I...I had to go meet Jason and then I..."

"And then you just forgot about my daughter?? Does that sound about right? Because she didn't go missing until 48 fucking hours later. Did you forget where I live too?? but suddenly, you remembered today??"

In his aggravation, Craig purposely picked up the paint covered glass and filled it to the rim with more wine, then took a hefty gulp.

"Craig, so much happened. Obviously, Liz was attacked and then later she died and.."

He cut you off again as his agitation increased.

"And yet I still did not hear from you until now and now that I have, all I hear are bullshit excuses."

"I mean, that's two fucking days Jo. You were certainly able to go meet Jason but not come here. Last time I checked, your brother is a big boy who can handle his own problems, which is exactly what he's selfishly doing after all I did for him, but a 4 year old child is helpless Jo! I'm sure you slept too right? All snuggy in your bed, playing doctor with the doctor, all the while that piece of shit Ethan was plotting to kidnap Blaise. I even tried to protect you from him, right after you slapped me stupid and told me you never wanted to see my face again. Eh, that don't even matter. What matters is Blaise and it could have been prevented if I HAD KNOWN that she was merely 50 fucking feet away from you and so here I am now, daughterless and drunk. You know what I've been doing in my spare time since I have exhausted all my resources in locating her? It's like she has fallen off the face of the earth."

Craig put on some old cheap flip flops and stood up, then pointed down at his painting.

"You see that? I did what you said to try. I used Blaise as some inspiration to try and cure this painter's block I've been dealing with for so long. Did you know she likes bees? So I attempted to paint her a giant fucking bumble bee for when I get her back, or should I say IF I get her back, no thanks to you and certainly none to that dunderheaded detective who shares Ethan's rancid blood. Audacious British fuck writing me into his little black book as a person of interest in Lizzie's death. I'm a lot of things, but I'm not a monster, even if I was raised by one."

"Craig, speaking of Cyrus, he happens to be one of the other problems we have been dealing with. Things that have nothing to even do with this. So much more has happened too and I don't expect you to understand that but I swear to you, I never meant for anything to happen to Blaise. Please...please believe me."

"I'll tell you what I believe. I believe you did this intentionally. What a great way to stick it to me for not telling you your brother was alive huh? Checkmate. You got me good Jo. Gold stars for you. Hit me right where it hurts the most. You're right. I don't like you so much anymore Miss March. I'll have your last months deposit ready for you in a few days and then I expect you out by the end of the month. Now get out of my sight. Good day."

"Craig come on. I would never put your child's life in danger just to get back at you or for any reason!"

As the acrimonious kiwi walked away, completely ignoring you, there was spillage of the yellow paint in his already cluttered pathway and the combination of flimsy flips flops worn by someone sober or tipsy, slick concrete and liquids do not mix.

Down he went as one foot slipped right out from under him and there he laid, stunned and flat out on his back with wine all over his face.

"Craig oh my god!" you gasped as you quickly but carefully made your way to him. "Are you alright??!!"

"There's that question again so I'll answer with the same answer. Do I look alright???" he snapped and attempted to get up, only to slip again and land on his butt.

"Here. Let me help you."

You reached down to him but he smacked your hand away.

"I might be a teeny bit sauced right now, but I'm not an invalid and if I were, I certainly wouldn't want or need any help from the likes of you Jo March."

"Fine." you huffed and then smirked at him. "Good luck then since you're now sitting in a giant smeared puddle of paint. I suppose if you crawl like the petulant child you're being, ass crack and all, you could make it out of your precarious predicament unscathed."

He glared up at you as he thought for a moment about demeaning himself even more than he already had by doing as you said.

"Fine." he also huffed and jerked his sticky hand out to you.

You took his hand and began to pull. As he pushed himself up with his other hand, his foot slipped out again and this time, he pulled you right down on top of his chiseled chest.

"Well now. Now who's in a precarious predicament Einstein? Now we're both covered in paint and not to mention fucked, just not in the way I would like." he boasted with a cheesy smirk as you both were nose to nose and damn near mouth to mouth. So close that his facial hair tickled your upper lip and his hot sweet wine breath made you drunk in a way that it shouldn't have as you and he stared into each other's eyes.

You quickly broke the trance he had you in and pushed your way up off of him.

"Come on Craig. Get up so I can leave. Now is clearly not the time to talk to you."

You reached down again, but made sure you were in a good stance to pull him up this time. Once he was securely on his feet, you handed him another towel to wipe the wine from his face and when he was finished, things became a bit awkward and silent for a moment as he fidgeted and fought having eye contact with you.

"I uh...I think I broke your glasses." you mumbled as you glanced at the black framed spectacles hanging from the frayed neckline of his knit shirt.

His head snapped down to look at them and then his defenses were right back up.

"Oh...well, no biggie. What's one more thing you've broken? I've got more, although... I don't have another daughter. I'm going to bed. See yourself out."

This time, Craig safely made his way back to his apartment entrance without a single glance back at you and then you quietly left. When you returned to your own apartment down the hall, you immediately took a long hot shower to decompress and cried your eyes out the entire time. Once you were finished, you sat down with a chilled bottled of wine you had in the fridge to try and calm your nerves. The conversation with Craig had went just as you imagined it in your head many times and he had every right to be angry with you. You should have went straight to him and met Jason later. Blaise would be safe and sound with Craig right now and you were the reason she was not, and for that, you were going to make it your mission to find her yourself and bring her home. You didn't have a cue as to how, but you were to try and make things right.

But of course, while trying to think about where to start, your mind betrayed you as all your thoughts went right back to Lee, but you knew they would once you were no longer distracted. How in the hell were you going to stay away from him this time if you couldn't even sit still without thinking of him??

The one glass of wine that early in the morning had caught up with you and made you somewhat sleepy and it wasn't long before you dozed off on the couch without even realizing it. Meanwhile, in a small town called Grandview, 15 miles from Salem, Dr. Dave had just returned home from a much needed getaway.

As he sat at his kitchen table, drinking a beer, reading your texts and listening to your voicemails, he contemplated calling you until he heard a noise in the living room. Dave lived alone and had no pets, so it was either his older but newly remodeled house still settling or....it was what is usually was. A ghost. And he had the gift to see and speak to them, although he would not call it a gift, but a curse and the only ones who knew were you and his sister Britt.

When he got to the living room doorway, there sat a little boy, about 5 years old with sandy blonde hair and big blue eyes, whom he had never seen before and he just looked at Dave until he spoke to him.

"Hey there. What's your name?"

"Jacob."

"Hello Jacob. I'm Dave."

"I know."

"Alright. Can you tell me why you're here?"

"She needs help."

"Who...needs help?"

"The girl at the train yard. I saw her. The bad man hurt her."

"The train yard??"

"Where mommy was hurt. Over there."

Jacob pointed out the window and Dave then realized he was referring to Train Town. It used to be a public attraction, about a mile away by a state park, but it was shut down many years ago and was now basically a train car graveyard.

"Who's your mommy Jacob?"

"Elizabeth. She died and rode the train."

Dave had to collect himself, for he now knew he was talking to Liz and your Lee's son.

"Ok. I heard about that. I am very sorry Jacob, but...who is the girl you said is hurt? Is she there now?"

"My new and favorite mommy's sister."

"You mean Josie? Her...sister?"

"Mmmhmm."

Dave sprung to his feet and called you, but got no answer so he called your mother Margaret and she confirmed that Megan had not been home since yesterday and that she could not reach her.

"Jacob, can you show me where she is at? It is a really big place."

"Yep. Last one there's a rotten egg!"

Jacob hopped out of his chair and ran out the front door and vanished like the typical fugacious ghost as Dave stood in a transient spell of shock. As his mind resumed focus, he then grabbed his medical bag, raced to his truck and sped off without a thought of the danger that could be waiting for him.

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