Chapter Text
Jules hadn't objected, when Callie led them toward downtown and the medical campus. She was more worried about Sam, and she seemed to trust that Callie wouldn't lead them on as crazy an adventure.
And Sam was uncharacteristically quiet even when they arrived. Callie knew she was bursting to talk about what they'd seen, but for now she was following Jules' lead.
The campus plaza was a big circle of concrete steps and tiered lawns. This time of year the grass was dead and brown, but that gave the Harvest decorators an excuse to go all out with their theming. Now there were bales of hay in all different sizes stacked to make benches, and even live pumpkins scattered around. A gas-fed hearth was crackling in the center, and the cafe on the corner never closed. A badger with a house apron had rolled out a drinks cart to serve up hot chocolate and coffee.
They found a spot near the center of the plaza, against a couple of bales for large-scale mammals that were close enough to the fire to feel the warmth coming off of it.
And there were lots and lots of eyes here. Nocturnal mammals went about their business even in the dead of night, and that was comforting. If there really was such a thing as the ghosts of those who died in a mill accident, Callie thought, they wouldn't show up here. Here was for lining up for hot drinks, or for hugging friends goodbye while you waited for the late-night train to Sahara. There were even costumed kits out and about, munching on caramel apples and warming their paws by the fire.
She watched her friends anyway to make sure they were all right, and helped Jules clean the last of the dust off Sam's clothes. She'd pulled a pawbrush from somewhere, and bade Sam hold onto her thermos while she saw to her tail.
"Better?"
"I'm sorry, Jules," Sam finally said in a rush. She drew her paws up between them. "And you, too, Callie. That was more exciting than I wanted it to be."
"You think?" Jules was channeling her concern into her vigorous brushing.
"You should say you told me so," Sam said. "Because you did. I didn't listen when you said we had to be careful. Again."
Jules seemed to be thinking about it. But she eventually sighed instead. "It's just - if you ever feel the need go explore an old mill again, can we at least not do it in the dead of night? It's easier to stay together that way."
"Yes," Sam said in a small voice. She frowned. "Can ghosts show up when it's not midnight during Harvest?"
Jules shivered and hugged Sam's tail closer. "The point is we won't have to find out."
That was quite the change of tone from ghosts don't exist. And Callie decided not to say anything, because she was just as wary of old mills as they were now. She couldn't be sure that it wasn't some shared hallucination, or someone's elaborate prank, but the how hardly mattered. They knew what they'd seen and heard, even if they couldn't explain it. And it was probably going to be a long few nights talking about it, and waking up to help when it wouldn't leave them alone.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you, too, Sam." With her work mostly done, Jules was just hanging on for the sake of it. "I know you didn't mean for things to go bad."
Sam just nodded and pushed herself closer.
The mammals around them were having a normal holiday, at least. They watched two mindful chaperones lead a pawful of kits in a line across the plaza. Callie smiled - the tiny rabbit bouncing along in the rear had holes cut in her ghost bedsheet for her ears.
"Why couldn't we have run into something like that?" Jules asked.
"I wish we could have seen Nick and Judy before they left." Sam was watching, too. It was making her ears perk up, at least. "Do you think they do trick-or-treating for the kits when they go back to the farm?"
"I hope so. Everybody knows that tradition," Callie said. She unscrewed the thermos lid and let a cloud of fragrant steam escape. If they weren't going to be able to meet with the others, she figured they could keep it from going to waste themselves.
She pressed the first cup into a solemn Jules' paws. "Think you can possibly stomach something that isn't Earl Grey?"
"I'll make an exception tonight." Jules finally cracked a strained smile when Sam put an apologetic paw on her arm. She passed over the drink. "Actually, you first. It'll cheer you up."
Sam drank, and Callie. The warm bite of the cider did chase away the last of the chill. Jules had some, too, and it looked to help. It was good to snuggle close and share something. It helped them reset, and remember how they best got through tough times: together.
And with the adrenaline finally fading, Sam especially looked like she might doze off right here between them, even here in public. It it happened, Callie was going to leave her be. She deserved her rest when she could get it.
Now her own mind wandered. Not to ghost mice or rattling chains - Jules' paw in hers kept her too grounded to worry about that - but to how she could have kept the frightful night from happening at all. She shouldn't have indulged Sam's recklessness as much as she had. She should have listened harder to Jules' concerns, which were more valid than ever. They might all feel the urge to try something new and interesting to break up the restlessness of a changing season, but she was supposed to know that it couldn't come at the expense of their safety.
It was all a bit moot now, though. They were still safe, at least, but she couldn't change what they'd seen. She'd just have to be there for them, the way they were going to be there for her, and hope they'd learned their lesson. If it got really bad, maybe they could take a train to Sahara after work, and find a beach and forget that it was even Harvest for a while.
Of course, forgetting was easier thought of than done.
"We're going to have a doozy of a story for Nick and Judy-" the yawn cut some of it off and Sam had to try again. "The next time we see them."
That was Sam: terrified, but not so terrified that she wouldn't talk all about it given the chance. Callie would have to check with Nick to see when they were supposed to come back. Another nice warm dinner sounded pretty good right about now.
"Next Harvest, maybe we should clear the calendar so we can go with them to see Judy's farm," she said. "We're less likely to get in trouble."
"Sounds nice and warm and safe." Jules surrendered the cider mug to Sam again and settled back against the hay. She was still watching the kits with their trick-or-treat pails. "I'll take that over rigged factories any day."
"Haunted factories," Sam corrected her.
Jules frowned, but it softened in an instant when Sam squeezed her paw and she looked worried instead. "Or haunted factories, yeah."
Callie watched the rabbit wave her tiny paws under her ghost costume. The raccoon chaperone with her clapped paws to her mouth in mock-fright. "Unless they tell stories like that there, too."
"That would be so mean," Sam said. She shivered and hugged them both closer. "Scaring little kits with ghost stories."
"Yeah, you're probably right."