Chapter Text
"Jester, please, I am trying to read." Caleb whines, looking up at her.
"You've definitely read this before, Caleb." She says, pushing his book down with one hand. This new couple has been here for almost two months, a record, as far as Jester is concerned, and she's just about sick of them.
She started slow, easy. She would move Molly's pens and pencils, giggling as he crawled on his hands and knees to check under the couch. She untied Fjord's shoes when he was walking, and knocked on the wall beside his head when he was sleeping.
It didn't work.
She moved on, slamming doors and flicking lights off, throwing open cabinet doors when the couple, wrapped up in each other's arms, were cooking. Caleb did his best to mock Mollymauk's gentle accent, his own making it a very, very poor impression, calling out for Fjord when Molly was out of the house.
"Ja, I have, but it is a very good one, and I would like to read my longer books before winter, to have more light to read by." He gestures to the small attic window, letting in the last of the day's natural light.
"Come on, Caleb! I saw ducks again by the pond, and I know that when the ducks are there, cats totally are!" She wiggles her eyebrows, and he shakes his head a little.
"I would very much like to go, Jester, it is a kind idea, but I cannot go very far from the house. I couldn't even see the kitty-cats from there." He closes the book. It's a heavily dog-eared copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray.
"One day we'll figure out how we can leave, and we'll go all over, and do all sorts of cool things." She says, flopping onto the floor. Like a gentleman, he looks away while she fixes the slightly-too-short sleep dress she died in.
"What would you like to do?" He asks, folding his hands over his lap.
"Um, I would totally want to go see my mama again. I know she has to miss me so much! And my friend Artie! Oh! And I wonder if Veth still lives in the area? You would have really liked her, Caleb, she liked little things like you do!" She giggles, and points to Caleb's very small collection of stolen goods. He has no qualms about stealing books at all, but belongings he seems to choose carefully. He has four small cat collectables, nicked from two separate grandmothers, an old fountain pen, two unusable hair elastics, and a tonka truck painted with the Kryn flag.
"I am sure I would." He smiles, tight on his pale face.
"What about you? Where would you want to go?"
"Eh, everyone I knew is dead, so I would not visit. I'm not sure where I would go. Maybe go see my house again. Visit graves."
"That sucks, Caleb."
"Ja, it does." They both smile anyway.
-
Mollymauk's not stupid. They're fully aware that sometimes they can come off as daft, that the colour in their hair and the clothes on their body sometimes inspire doubt in those around them. Beau thinks he's an asshole, and Yasha thinks he can't take care of himself. Fjord mother hens and does all the paperwork, because Molly's not very good at reading. And yeah, they'll admit it, they can be a bit dumb.
But they're not stupid.
And there's a ghost in this house.
-
It starts with a séance. It's a far nicer approach than some other families have tried, from exorcisms to ghost hunters to trying all sorts of pop-culture methods of kicking Jester and Caleb out. Fjord's out, it's two in the afternoon on a Tuesday when Mollymauk sits on the floor of the living room. Jester watches as they light long, white candles, placing them in a circle around themself. There's crystals and oils and colourful scarves involved, Molly spills a granular sand on a cutting board and sets down their totem of the Platinum Dragon.
"This is new." Caleb says, floating over to where Molly has set up. From the couch, Jester shrugs, kicking her legs slightly.
"I think it's really cool! Most people just yell at us, Caleb."
"Ja, for good reason, I suppose. Not many want ghosts in their house."
"Even though we are super cool and awesome." She sighs, and he gives a hearty chuckle, socked feet descending to the floor.
-
"Alright." Molly claps his hands together, looking at his set up. He, truly, has no idea what he's doing, but bullshitting his way through most things never fails to work for him. They thought about calling Caduceus, but the hippie usually takes a couple weeks in October to properly winterize the graveyard and grove, and calling him out for this seems a little bit much. Maybe he'll still call for him, Fjord would probably appreciate it. "So, let's get this started."
The house, of course, is quiet back to him. It's not like Molly expected to light the candles they bought from the pharmacy and have the ghost speak to him, but it's still underwhelming to simply hear his voice fade throughout the house. It makes him feel a little dumb, though, that he's doing this in the first place. Other than Fjord suddenly displacing parts of his uniform, his boyfriend hasn't noticed anything wrong in the house.
There's a gentle tap on the table.
-
Jester holds her fingers in place, looking over where the purple-haired person is sitting. Their eyes widened when she tapped, and Caleb looks like he's holding back a giggle as he gives her a somewhat disappointed look.
"What? He said he wanted to get started, Caleb."
"Ja, I guess you are right." He kneels down before Molly. They're vastly different sights like this. Caleb has a very timeless handsomeness about him, a rugged face and light freckles across his nose, and the broad shoulders that make his thin frame look nearly regal. Mollymauk is a new sight, unlike anyone who has wandered into this house since Jester's been here, all bright colours and sharp tones and edges. While Fjord's monolidded eyes and brown skin are an unusual sight alone in this area, Molly's entire look makes Jester wonder about what's out there now. What would she be?
"So, ghost. Hello." Molly says, rolling two black rocks between their thin fingers.
"Can you hear me, Mister Mollymauk?" Caleb asks, sitting back on his heels. There's no reaction on Molly's face, and Caleb gives a soft huff. "I guess not."
"Cayleb, try touching him!" Jester giggles from where she's sitting.
"No one wants that." Caleb looks back to her.
"Well, um... I don't know!" She shifts off the couch and Molly's eyes flick to her, where the cushions have been lightly pressed down.
"Oh? Well, alright, you can take the couch if you want to, dear. Would you do me the favour of letting me know if you want to talk?" Molly's eyes stay locked on the cushions, even as Jester joins Caleb, only inches from the human's face.
"Do we want to talk?" Caleb asks, raising a bushy eyebrow.
"Well, yeah!" Jester nods excitedly.
"What would we say? Sorry there are ghosts in your house? Jester, I am not sure that is a good idea." He draws his hands back, and Jester leans over him, running her finger through the thin layer of sand on the cutting board, shaping it into a lopsided smile. Molly stares at it as it's being drawn, and looks up into space when it's done.
"Weird. Hello."
"Hi." Jester says back. As usual, and incredibly disappointing, there is no reply or movement of their head to show that Molly can hear her at all. Caleb gently touches Jester's elbow.
"I am sorry, Blueberry, I don't think Mollymauk can hear us at all."
-
Molly thinks he's holding himself together pretty well, his heart trying to crawl up his throat as the slow smile drags itself along Fjord's beach sand. There's a hollow terror to it, a confirmation of the dull fear he's had building since they moved in. He feels like running, gathering up his things and smoking some pot and forgetting all this happened, but the smile has weird little dotted eyes, and after it's done he swears he hears a little giggle.
"Weird. Hello." Molly struggles to keep their voice level, clenching their hands so tightly their acrylics break the skin of their palm. There's a long, drawn out silence after as he waits for something, anything to happen. Slowly, he wipes the smile away from the sand.
"Uh, can you write your name?"
-
"Caleb, how do you spell your name?" Jester asks, excitedly. The ginger's head tilts.
"It is spelled like Caleb."
"But is there a weird spelling because you aren't from here?"
"No, it is spelled like Caleb."
She nods, and reaching her fingers out. It's harder now than before, it feels like she can only touch so much stuff in a day without the sluggishness in her bones, but she wants to do as much as she can. Her name comes first, and Mollymauk looks on with an eagerness as she slowly starts pushing in the C, then the A, then the Y-
"There is no 'y' in Caleb." He crouches beside her.
"There totally is." Jester argues, but he pushes the sand over and scrawls the rest of his name in the sand.
"There. Capisce?"
"Oh. Great. There are two of you. I guess at least that's not as lonely? Um, is it only two of you?" Molly asks. Jester knocks twice on the table.
"I'll take that as a yes."
-
He's fucking freaking out, it feels like he's been turned inside out. Molly's always been superstitious, always been careful about this type of stuff, but knowing that there are two dead people just like, fucking chilling in his house isn't ideal.
There's the issue of the house, too. They've watched horror movies together, Fjord hiding his handsome face with a pillow, or a blanket, or his hands when anything happens, quivering in fear at the ghosts in the films telling new families to leave. They can barely afford to live here as is, yet alone selling it and leaving.
"So. Um. What do we do about this? The whole... thing." He asks. No reply comes, but a book from his shelf in the corner is slowly lifted off, the bright blue cover drifting through the air to the couch. Slowly, the spine cracks, and the pages flip to the first page of text.
-
"What are you doing?" Jester hisses, looking back at Caleb.
"What am I doing? I am reading, we cannot talk to them so I am doing something useful." He hisses back, eyes not leaving the blocks of text.
"Caleb, come on, this is the first time I've talked to a person other than you in so long, help me!"
"Um. We can figure this out as it goes? I hope you don't feel like it's too tacky in here, but we'll try not to change too much. Lovely place, lots of land and sunlight." Molly says, standing up. They wander to the table, sitting on it across from Caleb. "That's a good book."
There's a tense silence as Jester sits beside Caleb, the couch shifting again. Molly takes a Kleenex from the paper box on the table, gently dabbing away blood from their palms.
"So. Ghosts. Okay."
"Ghosts?" Fjord says, dropping his work bag on the floor. "The fuck you mean ghosts?"