Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Get out.

Each pound of Jimmy’s shoes on the ground mirrors the thumping of his heart as he looks for someone who isn’t there. But Lizzie was so sure. And he would do anything for Lizzie.

Lizzie's near hysterics now. “I’M TELLING YOU- Oli told me! It looked just like this. This one. Sure, it might not be in the same place. But it’s the same one. You have to believe me Jimmy.”

Jimmy sighs deeply, eyes studying the looming figure ahead of him, tall pointed spires silhouetted by the light of the full moon. He doesn’t dare ask, ‘But even if he went missing in here, there’s no way that he’s still there, right?’ It’s unspoken in the air between them.

Lizzie grabs Jimmy’s hand and looks into his brown eyes with the bright blue of her own. “Please, Jimmy. I know it. He’s in there. You have to go and get him for me.” Her voice cracks.

Jimmy squeezes her hand, taking a reluctant step toward the house. Every fibre of his being is screaming that this is a bad idea, that under no circumstances he should be going into the haunted house that mysteriously appeared down the street. He’ll do it anyway. Jimmy turns back to Lizzie, “I’ll look for him.” For her.

He’s looked for Joel. He’s looked in every corner by now, and there’s nothing here but winding halls and twisted stairways and wallpaper that even his grandma has stopped using. But it’s been three years since Joel went missing. He’s long gone. But Jimmy isn’t gone. He isn’t missing. And now Jimmy needs to get out. Get back to Lizzie. Get out.

He turns a sharp corner he thinks he remembers taking and nearly trips when he sees a hall of mirrors, each mirror looming into the distance. Staring at him. He has no time to think though, he madly dashes through the hall. It must connect out somewhere- anywhere. All he needs to do is get out.

There’s a flash of green in his peripheral vision, and Jimmy dares a look, but all he sees is himself in the mirror, running, cheeks red, blue jacket flapping as he sprints down hallway after hallway. He looks away, eyes stinging with fear. He’s just imagined it.

And two words still pound through his brain, as quick as a rushing river. Get out. Get out. Get out.

There’s no way he went this way before- he never walked this far, went down a hallway with mirrors- he should turn back-

Get out. Get out. Get out.

The blood pounding through his ears gets louder as he continues to push forward with all his might. There’s another flash of green, but Jimmy doesn’t bother to investigate. He knows he’s alone. There isn’t anyone there. Somehow, that doesn’t make him feel better.

Get out. Thump thump. Get out. Thump thump. Get out. Thump thump. The words are like a second heartbeat, propelling him forward, as sure and steady as the thought that his feet will propel him on the ground. Get out.

His eyes flick to a flash of lime, and Jimmy trips and falls on the beginning of a long red carpet, thick with dust. He lies there for a moment, breathing heavily.

Get out. Get out. Get out.

He needs to leave. Jimmy pushes himself up and reaches up to rub his eye that got dust in it.

And then stops.

He can see through his hand.

Jimmy blinks. He can see the carpet. Through his hand. He waves his other hand behind his right one. He can still see the carpet.

The words in his brain continue to pound louder now, but Jimmy is stuck in place.

He can see through his hand. His hand. His hand is translucent. He can see through his hand.

Jimmy tentatively runs a finger through his hair. It seems to almost glide along the surface of his finger, and he can feel all of the blonde strands brush against- no, through- the skin on his finger.

Jimmy whips around when another flash of green enters his peripheral. There’s no denying it now. But all he can see are rows upon rows of mirrors, rows upon rows of himself, distorted by each mirror’s different shape. And the carpet behind him. And under his feet. He can see the carpet under his own feet.

Another bright flash of green. This one is closer. He whips around and sees more in his peripheral vision. He turns again, breathing heavily with fear, and faces himself in the mirror. He can see the wall behind him in the mirror. He can see through himself.

There’s a rush of wind by his ear.

“Who’s there?” Jimmy accuses no one, voice echoing indefinitely along the hallway. The hairs on his neck stand up.

He turns slowly the other way.

And finds himself face to face with a grinning blonde man in a bright green shirt.

“Boo.”

Jimmy gives the most high pitched girly girl shriek and falls into the wall.

He just fell through a wall.

Playful laughter echoes through the halls as an almost clear looking hand reaches through the wall. Not sinister laughter. Just genuine laughing. Jimmy doesn’t take the hand and pushes himself up and back through the wall, as weird as that is.

The mysterious green shirted man wipes a tear from his eye, “Ah, never gets old.” He squints, scrutinising Jimmy before wiping his left hand on a pant leg and extending it in a greeting. “I’m Martyn. Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life.”

Chapter Text

Nope. This isn’t happening.

Jimmy blinks at him and doesn't take his hand for the second time. Nor does he offer his name. He just stares through Martyn at himself. Literally.

Martyn draws back his hand, seemingly unbothered by the fact that Jimmy is staring at him. The ghost grins again and whispers to himself. “I’ve always wanted to say that! Ah!! So cool!” He rights himself and clears his throat, “So. Would you like the good news or bad news?” Martyn cocks his head to the side, grinning lopsidedly. His feet float just above the ground, close but never touching the endless carpeted hallways.

Jimmy just stares at him as if he’s just walked through a wall. Which to be fair, he probably has. Multiple times. His brain settles on the short response of, “No.”

Martyn, to his surprise, chuckles. “Surprisingly, not the first time I’ve heard that. I suppose you want to find the exit then?”

Jimmy’s eyes flick along the hallway, and he slowly nods. “I- I need to get back to Lizzie. Point me in the right direction and I’ll be out of here.”

Martyn looks at Jimmy with what might be pity. “Wish I could mate. If I knew where the exit was I’d already be gone.”

He processes this very slowly. “You don’t know where the exit is.” He’s having a bubble bath.

It's more of a statement than a question, but Martyn nods anyway. “Yep. Which leads to the bad news: You’re trapped here!” He does little jazz hands as Jimmy freezes.

You’re trapped here. The words don’t register fully in Jimmy’s brain. He sputters for a moment.

He can’t be. That’s impossible. There has to be an exit, Jimmy got in didn’t he?

Jimmy spins away from Martyn, running in the opposite direction he was before. “Wh- y- Well fine! I’ll find the exit myself-“ He screams over his shoulder, vision blurring with fear.

If he can get back to the end, he can backtrack. Find where he did a wrong turn. Find the exit. Get back to Lizzie. Martyn wasn’t going to help him. This stupid ghost person was just- a hallucination! He wasn't real- the only thing that was real was the need to find the exit. To leave. To get out.

Martyn appears in front of Jimmy with a frantic look on his face, and Jimmy skids to a stop as Martyn quickly jabbers, “You didn’t hear the good news! You’re immortal now! That’s good, right? You stopped ageing the moment you were, erm.. trapped- no that sounds bad- er, linked! You were linked to the house-“

Jimmy dodges past him. “I don’t need your weird nonsensical jokes. If you can’t tell me where the exit is, I need to find it myself.” His chest tightens as he tries to forget that he, himself, is translucent.

He runs through the hall, noticing with a pang that the dust clouds that came off of the carpet when he came aren’t there. It’s as if he isn’t there at all. As if he was a ghost.

Jimmy squeezes his eyes shut and runs faster. He’s imagining it. He’s imagining everything.

There’s a cool feeling that rushes over Jimmy and Martyn gives a yelp from somewhere behind him, but Jimmy doesn’t bother to look back.

“WHAT THE HELL MAN?” Martyn shouts annoyed down the corridor, “YOU- YOU CANNOT JUST RUN THROUGH ME.”

Jimmy runs faster. This can’t be happening.

“UNCOOL!”

The pounding in his ears returns. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get o-

He slams into something. Hard.

Jimmy opens an eye to find he’s crashed into a drab red coloured wall that isn’t covered with mirrors. To his right is another stretching hallway, this one with sporadically placed gold patterned picture frames. He turns and Martyn’s standing obnoxiously close to him with a worried look.

Jimmy’s gaze hardens and he rubs his aching nose. “What. Do you. Want. From me.” He stands up straight, looking Martyn in the eye. He can see himself in the mirrors through Martyn.

The apparition sighs. “Listen. As much as I could leave you to run through these halls looking for an exit for the rest of time, I don’t want to do that to you.”

Jimmy takes a step back and crashes into the wall. He bites his lip and turns away as he grumbles, “Makes me feel so much better about myself.”

Martyn frowns, “You can’t leave. None of us can. I looked for the exit for nearly a year straight when I first got trapped here. I want to spare you that.” He takes a breath, “Come on, you can’t find the exit but you can find anything else you want with ease. There’s a really cool library with a bunch of books- I don’t think even Grian has touched most of those. Just gathering dust, really. There’s a makeshift gym, we cleared out a room and stuck a few mats in- you aren’t listening are you?”

Jimmy shakes his head no. He’s still thinking about what Martyn had said. He looked for the exit for a year. An entire year. Wasted.

But that didn’t matter. He vaguely remembers Martyn saying something about stopping ageing. About being immortal. He was trapped here. Forever. A year didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things- if you were going to be here until the end of time. If you were immortal.

“How- how long have you been here?” Jimmy asks finally, not knowing if he wants the answer. Not that it mattered. The answer, that is.

Martyn furrows a brow. “Good question.” He seems to think hard, counting on his fingers. “Six, maybe seven years about? This year would be the sixth, I guess.”

Jimmy takes a deep breath to control his panic. “Did no one notice you were gone? An- Anyone at all? Do people.. forget you exist or something..?”

Martyn purses his lips. “I wouldn’t know. I was already missing for everyone at home, so me being here doesn’t make much of a difference. Location is all. Maybe they forget you. Maybe they mourn you. Wouldn’t matter to me anyway.” He stares into the wall longingly over Jimmy’s shoulder.

He does it just long enough to be mildly uncomfortable.

Martyn turns abruptly and gestures for Jimmy to follow him, “Come on. I wasn’t joking when I said the library was large. Why, for all I know, they have the answers you’re looking for in there!” Martyn pauses. “Actually, I think I remember Grian saying something about nearly going mad looking for answers in there. Library’s sentient and all that. So don’t do that.” He walks through the wall as casually as if he were taking a step.

Jimmy stops in front of the wall. He can’t do this. He isn’t a ghost. He isn’t trapped here forever. He needs to find the exit.

Martyn’s lying. Martyn’s part of his imagination, and his imagination is lying to him. He can’t be trapped here. He knows he isn’t trapped here.

He needs to find the exit.

Martyn’s head pokes back through the wall. “You coming man? BigB’s made chocolate chip cookies and they’re delicious. You have to try one.”

Jimmy nods. But he doesn’t go anywhere. Because he can’t walk through walls. He isn’t a ghost. Ghosts can walk through walls. And Jimmy isn’t a ghost. He looks down at his translucent feet and squeezes his eyes shut. He isn’t a ghost. He needs to get out.

A cold hand grabs his wrist and he looks up suddenly, startled. A weird almost static-like feeling jumps through where Martyn is holding him. It's.. warm? But the hand is cold.. at the same time. A chill runs down his spine.

Martyn’s hand flies off of Jimmy like he’s burned him. “Oh fuck, sorry- I didn’t mean to touch you if you didn’t want to-“ He closes his eyes, and when he reopens them the look he gives Jimmy is indecipherable. Martyn opens and closes his hand at his side, grasping at the air.

He gestures for Jimmy to follow him again but doesn’t touch him to guide him. “You can’t sit here forever. Just come on.”

Jimmy purses his lips. “I’m not walking through a wall.” He exhales deeply. The exit can wait. “Show me how to get to your friends.” Martyn opens his mouth to say something, and Jimmy interrupts, adding, “Without walking through anything.”

Jimmy isn’t a ghost. He can’t walk through anything. So Martyn will show him the way through the hallways like a normal person.

To his surprise, Martyn grins. “Sure. You can find the way yourself.”

Jimmy blinks, appalled, “You’re abandoning me? Because I don’t want to walk through a wall?” Not that he can if he wanted to. That would mean he was a ghost. And Jimmy isn’t a ghost. Nor is he trapped.

Martyn laughs, “No, silly.” He makes a wide sweeping gesture towards the long hallway of mirrors. “Walk. If you want to go to the library, go there. If you want to go to a bedroom, go there. If you want to go to the living room and have some of BigB’s delicious cookies, go there. As long as you know where you're going, you will get there.” He gives him an exaggerated wink, whispering loudly, “It works with people too.”

Jimmy.. understands? Not really. “So I just.. walk down this hallway and I’ll get to the dining room with the cookies that you so desperately want?” It seemed pretty simple, when you put it like that. Too simple. The world doesn’t work like that.

Martyn nods. “It gets a bit weird when there are two people going to different places, but yeah.” He puts one foot through the wall and makes a small salute, “I’ll be vacuuming up cookies in the dining room if you need me. Fun tip- ghosts don’t get hungry or full, so I can eat as many as I want!”

Jimmy blinks.

“If I don’t see you in the next few days, I’ll come looking. Have fun!” With that, Martyn disappears through the ugly faded red wallpaper.

Chapter Text

That just happened.

Jimmy takes a breath and looks towards the hallway that is suddenly very imposing before him. His reluctant steps echo down the stretching walls that feel more empty than before. And this time, it really is empty.

The picture frames that line the hall bore into Jimmy’s soul. The pictures themselves are old oil paintings of even older people who seemed incapable of smiling.

Blink. He could have imagined it, but the painting of the old victorian lady next to him seemed to have her face wiped off, replaced by an array of purple eyes that darted this way and that, but when Jimmy looks at the picture, the bored look returns.

Jimmy shivers and continues walking.

He had to think- what had Martyn said was cool? He kept talking about a library, so that seemed like a good choice. He had also said something about finding people using whatever it was that allowed people to find their destination by thinking, to find people as well, so he could find Martyn afterwards.

But first, the library.

Jimmy takes a breath and steels himself, closing his eyes and imagining a library, bookshelves with dust lining them, many untouched. Fingers brushing on the bindings of books, each one telling a different story. The dust being gently swept away as he picked a book from the collection, bringing it home eagerly to read. The feeling of accomplishment when the librarian congratulated him for completing the book- when the librarian knew exactly what he wanted next.

Jimmy bites his lip, but continues slowly walking down the hallway, trying to imagine a different library. But it kept coming up the same, Pix greeting him at the doorway, the layout of the books, the little bookmark container sitting on the front desk.

His stupid brain actually hates him.

He would never get to see that again. Never again would he hear Pix’s greeting as he entered through the same doors he had every day, reading or drawing or even just twiddling his thumbs. That reprieve from his life- from Lizzie’s life- was already like a distant dream, untouchable, forever fading until he would eventually forget it and all the joy that came with it. He’d told Pix he would be back the next day to finish the drawing he’d made, the one of sprawling wheat fields, so that Pix could hang it up like he had all the others. But he would never get to finish that drawing. Because he was stuck here now. He couldn’t leave.

The reality of his situation sinks in. Everything he knew, he’d ever known, it didn’t matter. Because none of it was here, in this damned haunted house. Lizzie, Pix, fWhip, Sausage, Katherine, all of them- they would all label him as gone. He would never see any of their faces again.

A watery tear slips down his face and Jimmy squeezes his eyes tighter, inhaling a sob.

Jimmy’s back presses against something hard that pushes into his spine in rows, and he slides down to hug his knees, his shirt seemingly passing through the surface behind him instead of being pulled up his back.

The tears that slip down his face are almost glowing, more translucent than water should ever be. They roll down his cheeks and to the knees of his pants, dampening them with each drop. The floorboards blur through his jeans as more tears prick at his eyes, and Jimmy finally buries his face in his legs with a sob.

He’s a fucking ghost. He’s trapped with scary people with even scarier appearances, and he can never leave. He’s immortal, just so that he can stay here for all of eternity. He has everything he wants except for the things he wants.

The rhythm in his ears comes back, beating two new words as steadily as his own broken heart.

I’m trapped.

I’m trapped.

I’m trapped.

Chapter Text

In the time that Jimmy has been crying, he’s discovered two things. One, he’s been crying against a bookshelf of self help books. Which really feels like the haunted house is playing some sick ironic joke on him, but he frankly doesn’t care. He’s surprised made it into the library in the first place. Apparently walking with your eyes shut is a very effective way to get places.

Two, he will find a way to get out.

Jimmy picks up a random book from behind him (“Why Everything Isn’t Always Terrible,” by some guy with a very mundane sounding name- Joe Hills) and flings it at the wall, bouncing off of it with a satisfying thunk.

He throws another one at the wall, one with a red cover and text that looks like Sausage had put it together in microsoft paint.

Jimmy inhales and throws one a bit higher, just barely missing a hanging light that’s currently off. “Here’s what I think about your stupid books-”

Thump. The book embeds itself in the wall, and everything is still as Jimmy stares and breathes heavily, looking at the newly broken wall.

Crack. A bit of the wall stretches towards the book. The wall. Moving.

In mere seconds, the wall seems to scramble to reform itself, plaster and wallpaper quickly growing back and around the edges.

Jimmy watches as there’s another crack, and the book bounces out of the wall harmlessly. The wall closes.

He’s never leaving, is he?

Jimmy combs a hand through his hair, eyes fixated on the books lying on the ground. his other hand runs up and down his black jeans, smoothing and wrinkling the fabric systematically. He clears his throat of another sob. No use in sitting and sulking here.

Jimmy stands up and wipes his face with his sleeve, brushing away sticky trails of dried tears. He inhales and the scent of books fills his nose, and he’s reminded of the first time he’d walking into the library, the way he’d taken it all in, how Pix had scared him by merely talking while Jimmy was absorbed in the sight of it all-

Jimmy hiccups. More of this and he’ll start crying again. And that would just be embarrassing.

Jimmy busies himself by studying the room, making a point to note the similarities and differences to the library at home. It doesn’t help him feel better about being trapped, but he manages to not cry again, so that’s a win.

The library seems to stretch forever, bookshelf upon bookshelf, in a layout that has no sense to it at all. Wherever he got in from, he isn’t near it now. He can’t even see a door. His steps seem to echo as he takes in the shape of the room, almost rectangular with a tangent cylindrical open room, spiralling a staircase to presumably the next floors. Curious, Jimmy makes his way to the spiral staircase and looks up through the hole through the middle.

He nearly vomits, it feels like he’s standing high up and looking down. Except there isn’t a floor. That wasn’t a good analogy. The staircase spirals way beyond the three floors that the library at home had, going up and up and up and up and there isn’t an end.

“I remember Grian saying something about nearly going mad looking for answers in there. Library’s sentient and all that. So don’t do that.”

Jimmy understood why the Grian guy nearly went insane. This library was massive. Infinitely massive. How did you even find anything in here..?

Jimmy pries his eyes away from the looping bannisters, feeling dizzy as his eyes lock on a shorter bookshelf, kind of like the holds shelf that sat parallel to the check in desk. Pix’s desk. Though he normally wasn’t there in favour of the one in the children’s section. He claimed children's books were more fun. Jimmy stumbled over, plopping in a beanbag that he swore hadn’t been there when he arrived.

The books are organised in clumps, each group of books sitting under a handwritten sticker with a name on the shelf right above the book. This, he assumes, was where everyone’s books were. He scans over the books and looks at the names of the people with the most interesting choices of books.

The area labelled ‘Scar!!’ in an atrocious orange marker has a collection of colourful, almost children's books, about a theme park Jimmy had never seen before. There are a good few Star Wars books, and oddly enough, what seemed to be a comic book about a superhero named ‘HoTgUy.’ It’s an odd choice, to say the least.

There’s a label with neat handwriting with the name ‘Scott,’ which houses a few books on flowers and some romances. There’s a charred label that just barely reads “Tang,” with a circular letter that might be either an “o” or an “a”, but Jimmy can’t tell through the ash. His eyes skip over the many technical looking books, all with charred spines.

He looks over a few books on medical procedures, Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, and one very suspicious looking book titled ‘How to Cope With Being ‘Washed Up.’”

Overall, none of it is very interesting.

Jimmy stands up and stretches, feeling a little bit better. He reasons he should browse the books on the shelf, instead of other people’s.

He scans the walls for some direction on the order in this place, but to his surprise, the walls are barren. There are a few peeling posters here and there, mostly the same cheesy cat hanging on a tree one with some colour differences.

Jimmy picks a random shelf and pulls out a particularly fat looking book. It’s a book called ‘Dealing With Grief.” Jimmy snorts.

This haunted house is having a bubble bath.

“Stop it with the stupid self help books. I’m not dealing with grief-“ He throws the book behind him as he speaks to no one. Then, wanting to not make a mess, Jimmy turns around and picks the book off the ground to put back on the shelf.

The title seems to have changed to, “Dealing with Denial.”

“This isn’t even funny anymore.” He debates throwing the book again. He decides against it and shoves the book back on the shelf. When the next book he selects is titled, “The Unfortunate Side Effects of Being Alive, and Five Ways To Deal With Them,” Jimmy throws it into the wall and doesn’t pick it up.

He doesn’t even know if the book applies to him. He might not be alive at this point.

Sighing, Jimmy abandons looking for books.

“Have your stupid self help books, I don’t need them.”

Now. What was he doing again..?

He stops.

Right. Exit.

Jimmy starts wandering the library, looking for an exit. If this place works anything like the halls, the door should be around here..

Oh.

Bright gold comes into Jimmy’s view.

Jimmy sucks in a gasp as he cranes his neck to see the glittering object in front of him, lit up by sunlight that cannot possibly exist.

Two large golden double doors tower above Jimmy, dwarfing him. Both of the doors are closed. The doorknobs are three Jimmys big (and Jimmy’s a big man) and almost thirty Jimmys up on the door.

He doesn’t even bother to think about how the ceiling height changed so dramatically. He likes his sanity perfectly intact, thank you.

He has two options: Stay here, or walk through the door. And option two would mean fully accepting he was a ghost.

Jimmy steps forward and runs a finger over the ornate detailing on the door, impressive and attentive to minute design even at this size.

The bumps of gilded gold rub against Jimmy’s skin. He lets the pressure go ever so slightly, and puts his hand forward as gently as he can. The finger goes through the door.

He pulls it back and rubs it. It doesn’t feel any different.

Jimmy tells himself that it doesn’t mean anything. Going through this door right now doesn’t change the fact he will escape and he is whole and human and fine and not dealing with anything and isn’t trapped in a haunted house.

He breathes in deeply and walks through the enormous double doors to find himself in a room of thirteen other people.

All eyes turn to him.

Chapter Text

The room falls silent as everyone turns to look at Jimmy, who’s turned bright red. He scoots to the left, hiding behind Martyn, who’s chewing loudly on a mouthful of chocolate chip cookies. Crumbs spray everywhere, falling through the hand plastered over his mouth and onto the hardwood floor.

Jimmy isn’t really hiding himself very well- everyone stares through Martyn at him as he tries to shrink even smaller from the array of eyes piercing through him.

His gaze catches on a man whose head is on fire and holds back a frightened squeal. He wants to get back to Lizzie, get out of this damned place. Not be in a room full of ghosts and fire people and what looks to be some kind of werewolf and a person whose blue and green skin is stitched together and-

Jimmy can’t help but notice the zombie looking person and the person on fire are both not ghosts. Looking around the room, a few other people aren’t ghosts as well, most- no, all of them the ones with extra features, like wings or half wolf-ness.

“Martyn, I’m assuming this new person knows you, based on how they are hiding behind you?” A voice with a playful accent carries through the room, interrupting Jimmy’s thoughts and breaking the silence. It’s from the man with blue hair, who had been arguing with the person whose head was on fire. “When were you planning on telling us there was a new guy?” He twists his hand in the air in an elaborate motion, elbow resting on the armrest of a light green sofa. The on-fire guy sits next to him, standing out in contrast to the pale translucent skin of the blue haired guy.

More crumbs fall out of Martyn’s mouth as he crams another cookie in his face hole. “Maeebe nefer. It nefer came uph.” His voice is muffled by the large mass of crumbling chocolate and dough, “I figued he’d find hish way and meet efereebody efentuallee-“

“For the love of god Martyn, finish what you’re eating before you speak-”

Martyn shrugs and turns around to face Jimmy, making a shooing gesture with a hand with three cookies in it. He swallows hard, clearing his mouth of cookies. “Go on, meet everybody- they don’t bite. Except for Cleo. They might try and eat you.”

There’s a snort and the person with blue stitched together skin pushes an orange curly lock out of their face. “I only tried that once, Martyn. He’s a ghost. I can’t eat ghosts. Etho, on the other hand-“

A man who’d been sitting in the corner and staring off into space jumps up. A mask covers the lower part of his face, and a long thin scar runs down his face across a red left eye, disappearing under grey hair and bluish grey fabric. “Hey now, when did this become about me- I thought you agreed not to eat me for a specific reason-“ The man- Etho- gives the zombie- Cleo- a pointed look.

“Guys, stop it. You’re gonna scareificate the new guy-“ The guy with very-much-on-fire hair sits up and walks forward to extend a hand to Jimmy. Martyn scoots out of the way and to the next cookie tray, having emptied the first one save for a few crumbs. “Tango.” The fire guy points at himself and smiles with too sharp teeth. The guy with the technical books, Jimmy notes.

“Don’t worry,” Martyn mumbles behind Jimmy, “He only sets people on fire on Tuesdays. It’s a Monday.”

Jimmy takes a tiny step back.

Tango bares his teeth much more menacingly at Martyn, “I’ll have you know that I only set one person on fire once and they totally deserved it. And I’m willing to make you the second.” The fire on his head flares up and Martyn drops a cookie through his shoe with a laugh.

“Okay, okay. You know what I mean. Can’t exactly tell if it’s a Tuesday or Monday or doomsday when we’re trapped here anyway.”

Tango falls silent. The fire on his head crackles.

A guy step-floats forward, wearing a suit with sleeves that seem to be torn off deliberately, revealing long snakelike scars across his arms. There’s a guy with a plain black tee patterned with a large yellow ‘i’ standing directly behind him. Jimmy can see the group photo on the wall through them both. “Would you possibly know what today’s date is- uh.. remind me of your name again?” He’s asking Jimmy.

Jimmy clears his throat now that all eyes are back on him. He quietly replies, “It’s October 26th. A Saturday.”

“And..?” The guy with the ripped suit prompts, “Your name?”

“Oh, uh.. Jimmy. My name’s Jimmy.”

“Okay! I’m Skizz-“ the guy- Skizz- points at himself, and then proceeds to point to everyone else in the room at lightning speed, “Behind me’s Diddledop-“

Diddledop smiles at Jimmy, interjecting, “Impulse, Skizz. He doesn’t know the nicknames.”

Skizz waves a hand lazily through the air, rolling his eyes. “Whatever. Anyway, That’s Impulse, the short guy is Bdubs-“

“I’M AVERAGE HEIGHT-“ A ghost with a red bandana and a torn white shirt screeches, interrupting Skizz.

Skizz ignores him, “-the blonde guy in the green shirt and way too many cookies in his mouth is Martyn-“

Martyn says something through a mouthful of cookies, but Jimmy can’t make it out.

“-Ren’s the scary wolfy guy who likes to talk all fancy like for some reason-“

Jimmy looks to Ren, expecting him to say something, but his tail just swishes as he eyes Jimmy with watchful wolf eyes. Jimmy shivers as he notices the small but sharp claws that extend off of oddly furry hands.

“-the chronically shirtless guy with the leg braces and guy with the parrot wings and too many explosives on his hands over there are Scarface and Grian-“ Skizz continues, waving vaguely at two people who stood in the corner of the room. Scarface- he remembers seeing something similar to that name from the library- So this guy was the guy who likes superheros and theme parks and Star Wars? The name Scarface was… on the nose, to say the least. Jimmy notes his nearly obscenely large muscles, and puts in the back of his mind to not insult him. The parrot winged man named Grian is hissing at Scarface to put a shirt on through the corner of his mouth, big wings flapping and twitching restlessly. Scarface’s ghostly body picks up an equally ghostly shirt and he gives it a look as if it had insulted his bloodline.

“-Clebert’s the zombie who likes threatening people bodily harm, and Etho’s the mysterious guy in the mask who is usually the recipient of those threats of bodily harm-“

Etho snorts, and Cleo- Clebert? He was beginning to think that these were the nicknames- pursed their lips in a small smile.

Impulse nudges Skizz, who gives him a look before rolling his eyes and continuing.

“-Big Bopper is the guy in the blue sweater with the cookie on it that coincidentally makes some really good cookies according to Martyn’s mess over there-“

Big Bopper- BigB, Jimmy assumes- grins and waves, and Martyn makes another indistinguishable noise.

“-the guy with the blue hair who somehow keeps getting flowers out of thin air is Smaj-“ Impulse elbows Skizz, “FINE- the guy with the blue hair is Scott, and Top’s the one next to him with the fiery hair and personality.” Impulse rolls his eyes and Skizz smirks at him.

Scott gives Jimmy a wink, and Tango- or Top, as Skizz has called him- grins, fire on his head flaring up as his tail- which was also on fire- flicks from side to side.

Impulse is grinning, but kicks Skizz in the shin.

“Hey!” Skizz turns around with his hands on his hips, laughing, “JERK!”

Someone very abruptly speaks up from the entryway across the room from Jimmy, and everyone’s eyes leave Jimmy to look at the source of the interruption. “What’s this bloomin’ mess about, and who let Martyn eat all the cookies again?”

Jimmy blinks away from Scott and at the entryway at the voice he hoped he hadn’t recognised. Skizz clears his throat and makes an extravagant gesture towards an all too familiar man with a green streak in his hair and scowl on his face. “-and last but not certainly not least, the guy who’s convinced he’s tall, humble and handsome, Joel.”

Chapter Text

The name echoes in his head. Joel.

Jimmy’s heart pounds so hard he can feel it burning a hole through his chest. Joel. Joel was standing in front of him, just across the room, just as transparent as Jimmy is now. Joel. The person who’d vanished three years ago without a trace. The person who single handedly destroyed Oli and Lizzie with the simple act of disappearing. The reason Jimmy had to quit his dream job to go help Lizzie, to make sure she would be okay. The reason that Oli was gone. The person he’d gone in here for. The person he was trapped because.

Jimmy wanted to scream at him, to make him feel guilty for what he’d done to both of them, disappearing like that. To let the rage at Joel that he’d kept pent up, all because he knew Lizzie couldn’t take it. Because he thought that Joel was dead. Jimmy never had any hope he was alive, and yet here Joel was, yelling about cookies.

“Joel.” Jimmy’s voice shakes much more than he wanted it to, doused with three years worth of anger.

Joel’s scowl is wiped off his face as he seemingly notices Jimmy for the first time, replaced with white faced shock. He opens his mouth to say something, and then closes it, gaping like a fish.

Skizz looks between the two nervously, “Well..” He steps back, “It- um- seems you’ve already met..”

Jimmy swallows hard, and with the bile in his throat go all of the words he wanted to scream. His mouth opens, but like Joel, no words come out.

“Jimmy..” Joel takes a step back, hand rising to twist the fabric of his white shirt, covered by a vest reminiscent of Shrek. The same outfit he was wearing when he disappeared, his halloween costume. He even still has the Shrek ears on, and they bob up and down as Joel struggles to find words. “I-“

Jimmy cuts him off, both bile and words rising back up his throat, “We thought you were dead.” He spits out, fists curling up as new tears form in the corners of his eyes. Everyone else in the room seems to be holding their breath, too afraid to interrupt. Even Martyn has stopped chowing on cookies, cheeks puffed and full of dough and chocolate.

Joel’s hand tightens on his shirt, voice shaking slightly. “That’s not my bloomin’ fault, is it?”

“My entire life became Lizzie’s because you disappeared.” Jimmy breathes out heavily, the words he’d been wanting to say for years spilling out, “You stole my life.” And Oli's.

Joel bites down on his lip hard enough that a bead of blood forms, almost as translucent as everything else about him. “I did nothing! If getting trapped against your will is a bloody crime, then you’re just as guilty as me-”

A five ton boulder of guilt crashes down on Jimmy and his voice cracks horrendously, “Tell that to Oli, or Lizzie- the only reason I went into this stupid haunted house is because she wanted me to find you! If you weren’t stupid enough to get trapped here, Lizzie’d be happy and I wouldn’t be in this mess!”

Joel flings an arm in the air, “So you just left Lizzie outside of a creepy house by herself? Because she wanted you to go and find me? Idiot- how are you any better than me if Lizzie’s out there alone thinking we’re BOTH DEAD BECAUSE OF THE SAME. BLOOMING. HAUNTED HOUSE?”

Joel’s voice echoes through the room, and Jimmy is speechless. Of all the things he’d wanted to say to Joel, he hadn’t prepared to be met with a rebuttal. All the Joels in his head were sorry. But not Joel, the real one in front of him.

Joel lowers a hand, his voice lower and quivering, “I loved Lizzie. I still love Lizzie.” Pain flashes through his eyes, “I would give anything to see her again. You saw her just a few hours ago. If there’s anyone who should be mad, it’s me.” His last words are venomous. “Oli’s the one who wanted me to go in here anyway.”

Jimmy can’t find himself, after that last sentence. He can’t- Joel didn’t just say that- “So you're blaming Oli now, too?” Oli, of all people.

“Yeah! Maybe I am! Maybe I’m blaming the whole lot of you!” Joel spits.

If anyone watching has any thoughts about what’s happening, they probably aren’t good.

Jimmy takes a step back and feels his heel pass through the wall, which is no longer a giant set of golden double doors. It probably never was. He looks at Joel, who is shaking and has tears of red faced anger in his eyes. But Jimmy had known Joel long enough to know that he’s scared. And Jimmy would be lying if he said he wasn’t as well.

There are only two words left that Jimmy has yet to say, and somehow he hoped he wouldn’t be the one saying them. The hardest two words to swallow. He inhales and takes another step back, shifting his weight enough to let the back part of his right foot and now nearly his entire left leg pass through the wall.

Jimmy closes his eyes and breathes in barely whisper, “I’m sorry.”

His quiet voice echoes through the silent room, and he can hear Joel suck in a breath.

Jimmy spins on a heel and flees through the wall, leaving the room of silent onlookers and one man who is to blame behind him.

If only it were that easy, and blame would work like that, but Jimmy could only hope.

Because as each step brings him farther and farther away from the person who’s been dead for three years, Jimmy knows what he’s running from.

And he knows who’s really to blame. Joel is right.

He’s running from himself.

Chapter Text

Jimmy doesn’t know where he’s going, but it turns out that he’s found his way to a garden of sorts, rather surprising considering he’s trapped in this place for all of eternity. It’s a nice garden.

The wide variety of flowers isn’t never ending and winding, like the library was. The room actually has a finite size, all strategically taken up by walkways and expertly placed bushes and pots and planters. The flowers are arranged vaguely in colour order, making a winding rainbow. The path does loop-de-loops around flower beds and itself, never once straightening out.

Jimmy slows down to a walk, crouching down with a sniffle to inspect some poppies.

He uses a finger to gently lift a petal, being sure that it doesn’t rip or get torn away from the rest of the flower as he feels the smooth and oddly cool to the touch texture.

The red petal rests on his finger, fluttering slightly as if blown by some invisible wind. A bit of his finger phases through the petal, and Jimmy stares.

Wait. If Jimmy’s a ghost- can he..?

Curious, Jimmy untenses his finger, intentionally running his finger through the petal. Halfway through, he tenses it again, moving his finger around to see if the petal will stay. It moves slightly, and then his finger is out of it, leaving the petal to droop slightly towards the ground.

“Pretty, right?” An amused voice sounds behind Jimmy, making him scream and fall face first into the flowers. He pushes himself up, turning around sheepishly towards the person behind him, who‘s put their hand over their mouth and is trying desperately not to laugh.

The wave their other hand, the hand covering their mouth translucent enough to see the grin under it. “Sorry! Sorry-” They move the hand off of their mouth, and Jimmy realises it’s the guy who was talking to Tango. The blue haired guy.

“You’re Scott, right?” Jimmy blurts, and this time it’s his turn to cover his mouth.

Scott nods, “The one and only,” He does a little bow, “Ghost and florist at your service, ten years and more experience with both.” He winks.

Jimmy feels himself flush involuntarily, and quickly scoots sideways. “I better-“ he points to the wall, “get going.” He scootches a bit more, “Sorry to bother.”

Scott grins and shakes his head, “No, no, it’s not a problem at all. No bother.” He sits on the tiled path and pats the ground in front of him. “Please stay, I would love to have a chat!”

Jimmy swallows and awkwardly sits crisscross applesauce in front of Scott.

The blue haired ghost plucks a poppy from one of the little garden patches beside him, fitting it into his translucent hair. It somehow stays there, though it looks a little to be floating in the air.

“It’s an um.. lovely garden you have here,” Jimmy licks his lips nervously, “Very lovely.”

Scott grins at the praise, “You think? I’ve been working on it since the day I got here.”

Jimmy doesn’t say anything more. The air is filled with soft humming- Scott. He doesn’t recognise the song.

Scott carefully removes the flower from his hair and places it in Jimmy’s hair with delicate hands. “If you don’t mind me asking..” He moves back and studies his work, and with a nod, makes eye contact with Jimmy, “How do you know Joel?”

Jimmy stiffens.

Scott seems to notice, and amends quickly, “You don’t have to tell me. I’m just curious-”

Of course he’s curious. Who wouldn’t be, after what he had said to Joel in front of everyone? In front of a whole lot of people who he doesn’t know at all, Scott included. And now he may be trapped with them.

Jimmy takes a deep breath and shakes his head, “No, it’s fine. I don’t blame you.” He takes a step back, “I really do have to get going though.” He takes the flower out of his hair and places it back in to Scott’s palms.

Scott frowns, hands wrapping around the stem. “Are you sure y-”

Jimmy cuts him off quickly, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible. Scott could want anything from him- “No, no, I really do.” He spins around on a heel, “It was lovely meeting you!” Jimmy quickly rushes through the wall, not giving Scott time to respond.

Jimmy needs to get out of here, before anything worse happens.

Almost as soon as he thinks this, Jimmy bumps into Scarface, who is very big and strong looking and Jimmy doesn’t want to die.

He squeaks apologetically, and tries to rush out of the way, and Scarface makes a surprised noise.

“Oh!” Scarface turns around to look at Jimmy, who is trying to be as small as possible, “Well hello! I didn’t see you there.” Scarface scoots Jimmy out from where he is currently boxed in.

Grian is standing next to Scarface, giving Jimmy a piercing look with eyes that hold the void in them.

Skizz and Impulse are off to Jimmy’s right, whispering to each other and giggling. He knows it’s unlikely, but he can’t shake the feeling they’re whispering about him.

Grian purses his lips, and says decisively, “You and Joel know each other.” It isn’t a question.

Bile rises in Jimmy’s throat.

Scarface elbows Grian so hard it’s a miracle he doesn’t topple over.

As if things couldn’t get worse, Scott comes through the wall to the left, trailed by Bdubs and Cleo.

Everyone is talking, staring at Jimmy. Like he's an anomaly. Or like he’s a threat.

Jimmy wishes he could just sink through the ground. And unfortunately, the extent of his ghostly-ness does not let him do that. Or maybe it’s the limitations of the haunted house. It doesn’t matter which it’s all the stupid haunted houses fault either way.

Jimmy turns his back to Scarface to find that Martyn and Ren are there, chatting casually. Ren notices his gaze and gives a grin that’s all teeth.

He’s surrounded.

Jimmy stumbles backwards and falls into Scarface again. This time for sure he is going to be mad.

Scarface places his hands on Jimmy’s shoulders, and Jimmy wants to cry.

He pulls away and starts to run, but every side is blocked by someone or something. And they are all looking at him.

Everyone is looking at Jimmy.

Jimmy’s trapped in a circle where everyone undoubtedly hates him.

Skizz takes a step forward, holding a hand out to Jimmy.

Jimmy steps back and trips embarrassingly on his own feet. He can’t hear anything except for the blood pounding in his ears.

He hears someone snicker.

He pushes his upper body up, flinching from a scarred hand reaching out towards him.

Jimmy pulls his knees close to him.

The pounding of blood in his ears is still there.

Judgmental whispers swirl from all around Jimmy.

More snickers.

An insistent hand in his face.

Jimmy wraps his hands around the back of his head and pulls in closer, shielding himself from everything in the room.

Everyone hates him.

He’s trapped.

They all probably want to get rid of him.

Especially Joel.

It’s Jimmy’s fault for going into the house in the first place.

He can almost feel sixteen pairs of eyes boring into him.

Sixteen mouths, whispering about him.

Sixteen pairs of ears, listening as Jimmy cries.

Hisses of delight fill his ears.

And then- time seems to stop.

Chapter Text

The voices of all thirteen people around him are muffled in Jimmy’s ears. Like something’s blocking them.

Words silky smooth, overlapping with a different, familiar voice, is two words. “You’re okay.” It vibrates through his head, revealing the whispers of anger surround the edges of his mind.

Jimmy feels as if he can’t help but agree. But his heart still pounds.

“But I’m not..” Jimmy mumbles out, “Everyone hates me.”

“No, they don’t.” The voice coaxes, “Look at them.”

“But they hate me!”

“Look.” The voice is urgent, but still soft in his ears.

Jimmy lifts his head. Skizz is kneeling by him, speaking, but his words don’t make it to Jimmy’s ears. Everyone else is crowded behind Skizz, peering at Jimmy.

“They think I’m weird.” Jimmy buries his head back into his knees. “They hate me.”

“They don’t hate you.” The voice insists, “They are merely curious.”

“Will they still be curious if they’re stuck with me forever?” Jimmy soberly grumbles, “They hate me.”

A second voice joins, hissing with glee, “That’s right.”

Insistently and annoyed sounding, the first voice becomes slightly louder.“They don’t.”

Jimmy tries to shy away from the voices in his mind. It doesn’t work.

“They hate you. You need to not. Go. They are worried you can't.” The two voices overlap.

“Stay delicious. You are doing exactly what you need to be.”

It’s a war in his head.

“They want you gone.”

“You’re going to be okay!”

“It’s your fault she’s alone.”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done!”

“He hates you. They both do. They all do.”

“Jimmy, you’re going to be fine.”

“He wouldn’t be gone if you’d been better.”

Jimmy can’t.

“I know, I know, I already know!” He cries out, “I’m a failure! Everyone hates me! Leave me alone!”

The first more comforting voice occupies his entire brain as Jimmy buries further into himself.

“DON’T LISTEN-” It booms, wavering a bit. There's a shriek from somewhere in his ear that rattles Jimmy’s bones. “TO THEM.”

Jimmy sobs. They won’t leave him alone. None of them.

The hissing slithers in his mind with manic glee, “You only care about yourself. She was never the priority. Neither was he. You tried to get away from her. You should just do the same thing he did. He had the right idea, going-“

The previously comforting voice cries out desperately, interrupting the hissing. “JIMMY- SNAP OUT OF IT.”

Jimmy can’t. He can’t. “But they all hate me. I can’t do it. I hate me.”

“JIMMY-“

“I deserve it! Go away!”

“JIMMY!”

“I said leave me alone!”

It’s louder than ever. “JIMMY!”

“I don’t want to-”

And then they’re gone. But the room is silent.

“Jimmy.” A soft voice that Jimmy knows well is right by his ear, but not in it. “Jimmy.”

Jimmy takes in a breath. The pounding in his ears gradually returns. He hadn’t realised it was gone. “Joel..?” He lifts his head slightly, and Joel is kneeling in front of his curled up shape in the centre of the room.

Joel must hate him. After everything he said- Jimmy turns his head away and squeezes his knees closer to him. “You can tell me how much I suck later. I already know.”

“Jimmy.” Joel seems breathless. “I don’t hate you. None of us do.”

Jimmy’s lip wobbles, “Yeah right..” he mumbles, “Fat chance after how much of a jerk I was to you.”

Joel gets onto his knees and looks Jimmy in the eyes. “I’m the jerk. Blame me, if you want. Scream at me. But whatever you do, don’t go around blaming yourself for something that was out of your control. Don’t blame yourself if you wanted to make her happy. You couldn’t have known. It was my choice to go into the haunted house. All you wanted to do was make Lizzie happy.”

“But I didn’t.”

Joel gives Jimmy a look. “Excuse me?”

“I didn’t make Lizzie happy.” Jimmy hugged his knees closer, “Everything I did was just to get away from her.”

Joel looks lost. His mouth opened and closed.

Jimmy rubs an eye, “They were right. I’m just selfish.”

Joel scoffs, “Jim. You are a lot of things, and selfish is not one of them.”

Jimmy acknowledges Joel, but he averts his eyes. “I didn’t want to be around her,” he adds softly, “because I looked at her and knew that she didn’t want me. She needed you. Oli needed you. They would’ve both been better off if I’d gone missing.”

“That is not true.” Joel sputters. “You’re her brother! Her younger sibling! She’s known you for longer than I have, so don’t you dare start placing values on relationships. And Oli would be just fine without me!”

Jimmy can’t find the words to tell Joel that wasn’t true. “But she would be happier with you. All I did was avoid her, because it made me feel better.”

“Jimmy.” Joel’s hands were on Jimmy’s shoulders, and he looks up. “I don’t know who you are talking about or when they said any of that to you, but they’re some real idiots who don’t know what they are talking about.”

Jimmy refuses to meet Joel’s eyes. “But everyone here hates me.”

“Are you blind, lad?” Jimmy’s shocked by the sudden aggression. “No one here hates you. We’re trying to help you, you blooming idiot, and all you’ve done is run off and cry in a corner.”

Jimmy bit back a laugh as Grian kicked Joel, and Joel screeched at him, ‘What?!’

Grian’s voidlike eyes have a spark of purple to them. He looks tired, but gives Jimmy a small weary smile.

“To be fair, the impression you hated me came across when you screamed at me an hour ago.” Jimmy laughs at his own idiocy, “You’re right, all I’ve done is run off and cry in a corner. It hasn’t even been a day.”

Man was he such a loser. Joel knew it, he knew it.

Joel smiles knowingly. The smile fell. “For what it’s worth lad, I’m sorry for what I said. I don’t think either of us were in a right mind after not seeing each other for years.”

Jimmy let go of his knees. Joel never apologised.

“Thank you.” Jimmy softly said as he got up.

Everyone stares at him.

Right.

There were other people in the room. He’d lost track of who and what was there when he was absorbed in the voices in his own head.

Skizz gives a small encouraging whoop. “Let’s go Jimmy Jiggles! WOO!”

Impulse breathily laughs from beside him. “Already got a nickname, I see.”

Jimmy’s cheeks burn with embarrassment, but he still smiles.

Chapter Text

After Jimmy’s little breakdown, the room slowly devolves into people running around and laughing as a poorly executed game of freeze tag is attempted. People are everywhere at once, and the people who are ghosts- specifically Martyn- run through walls to avoid getting tagged.

Freeze tag was an interesting choice of a thing to do after a panic attack, but Jimmy surprisingly feels safe laughing along with everyone as Etho walks into the room, takes one look at the chaos, and turns right back around.

While Jimmy is frozen in a half running position, Grian walks up to him, big parrot wings splayed out behind him. “Hi Tim.”

Jimmy nods in acknowledgement, keeping the rest of his body still as Bdubs runs by him, Cleo in hot pursuit. He doesn’t bother to correct his name.

Grian’s beady eyes lock with Jimmy’s. “They’re interested in you more than anyone else. Be careful.”

Jimmy wobbles a bit, eyebrows furrowing. “Excuse me?”

Grian moves on, as if he hadn’t said anything. He taps Jimmy lightly on the shoulder and Jimmy relaxes himself, letting his legs touch the ground. He looks around to make sure he isn’t getting tagged immediately.

Grian’s already gone by the time Jimmy turns back around.

Chapter Text

Joel hasn’t actually forgiven Jimmy. It’s got to be the only reason that he’s avoiding him.

Jimmy hasn’t seen Joel since they departed from the freeze tag game. He hasn’t been at any of the social gatherings, which happen once every few days- or however long they assume to be a day- and he hasn’t been in any of the popular rooms in the haunted house. Jimmy hasn’t tried looking for him, because he assumes that Joel must hate him.

Jimmy is conversing with Scott, who is sipping on a cup of water. He doesn’t really get why anyone bothers eating or drinking or even sleeping, if they don’t have to, but it at least keeps some semblance of a normal life. That might be the reason, now that he thinks about it.

Scott explaining the plot of Mean Girls rather professionally, and Jimmy is contemplating explaining to him that he’s already seen the movie. He doesn’t, so that he can listen to Scott ramble.

At some point during the conversation, Ren walks up to Jimmy, flanked by Martyn, who has a handful of cookies in his fists.

Scott stops mid sentence, rasing an eye at the wolf man. “Can I help you, boys? Want me to restart my explanation?“

“That won’t be necessary.” Ren cooly steadies his gaze on Jimmy. “I would like to have a word, Jimmy.“

Jimmy nods, but he also has a lingering sense of dread in the back of his mind.

Martyn speaks up from behind Ren, “That means you leave, Scott! You heard the man! My liege would like to talk to Jimmy.”

Scott pouts, “Right, just stealing Jimmy from me, I see how it is. You want to finish the explanation, then?

Jimmy shifts uncomfortably.

“I will not be finishing the explanation.” Ren’s tail twitches impatiently. “You are welcome to finish when I am done with him.”

Scott purses his lips and narrows his eyes at Ren, but gives a quick glance to Jimmy before turning away.

Ren turns to Jimmy. “I believe I need to address something, good sir.”

“And what would that be?” Jimmy asks meekly.

“I have been rather.. hostile, towards you, as of right now.”

Jimmy nods, but doesn’t say anything.

Ren’s ears twitch as he flicks a paw. “I would like to apologise.”

Jimmy stiffens. And then relaxes. “O-oh. Okay..” Not what he was expecting there.

“He does that to everybody, so don’t take it personally.” Martyn interjects behind them. “Real dickhead, that guy.”

“Martyn!” Ren barks, but there’s a laugh in his voice.

“Is that all?” Jimmy tentatively asks.

Ren blinks, and the scary wolf mask seems to drop for a second. “Uh, yeah. Martyn‘s kinda right. Don’t take if personally if I’m a dick, dude.”

Jimmy nods. The icy wolf mask falls back over Ren, and he nods briskly.

Without another word, Ren turns away.

Scott comes back up to Jimmy, handing him a cup of orange juice. “Ren’s a weird guy.”

Jimmy agrees.

Chapter Text

It takes two more gatherings of not seeing Joel for Jimmy to muster up the courage to go look for him.

Jimmy walks through a mirror on the wall of a random hallway, shutting his eyes carefully. When he opens them, he’s in front of a normal, dark wooded door.

He knocks carefully on it, unsure of what to expect.

There’s a loud clang from the room, and Jimmy hears Joel mutter a string of curses.

“Who’s there?” Joel croaks from inside the room. His voice is raw, like someone’s would after crying for a long time.

Jimmy has the feeling he’s intruding. “Is this a bad time? I just wanted to- I can go-”

Joel yanks open the door. His eyes are red and puffy, and his hair is rumpled. His ogre headband sits patiently on the nightstand behind him, translucent as ever.

“Jimmy.” He breaths out, staring into his eyes for an awkwardly long amount of time. Then he moves to the side, motioning for Jimmy to enter the room.

Jimmy shuffles in, and Joel shuts the door behind him for some unknown reason.

Joel is the first to talk. He navigates his way around Jimmy, grabbing something from the rumpled bed sheets. “What do you want?”

Jimmy licks his lips nervously. “I- uh- just wanted to make sure you were here. I haven’t seen you for a bit. I thought maybe you were avoiding me.”

Joel sighs roughly. “Damn right I am.”

Jimmy stiffens at the blunt response. Joel seems to notice, and his expression softens ever so slightly. Still, his hand tightens around whatever is in his grasp.

“Jimmy, I’m avoiding everyone, not just you.” Joel adds, somewhat unkindly. “Don’t take it too personally you idiot.” His voice cracks.

“O-oh. Alright.” Jimmy gulps. “What- what have you been doing, then?”

Joel scoffs, turning around, “What have I been doing then-“ he mocks Jimmy in a shrill voice, “Yeah, well, I’ll never see my wife again, and you’re just a reminder of it all. So I’ve been sulking, thank you very much.”

Jimmy shuffles in place. “R-right. Sorry.”

“Don’t fucking apologise!” Joel groans, turning towards Jimmy and running his hands down his face. “I thought I said it wasn’t your fault, but apparently you’re deaf.”

Jimmy doesn’t know what to say. “Uh. Well..”

“Just let me get back to sulking in peace, please.” Joel carefully smooths a finger over what Jimmy now recognises as a wallet sized picture. “I don’t need some blooming idiot feeling sorry for me or for himself.“

Jimmy nods absentmindedly. He recognises the picture in Joel’s hand. It’s the one that they took in the fair. Jimmy, standing on the edge, getting yanked by Lizzie, who’s crashing into Joel. Sausage is grinning behind them, oblivious to the madness, and Oli is peeking out from the back, placing bunny ears behind Sausage’s head. The whole picture was a mess. But that fair was some of the most fun they’d had as a group.

Joel snaps in Jimmy’s face. “You aren’t listening, Jimmy. What the blooming hell are you staring at?”

“Yeah I- You- where did you get that picture?” Jimmy points at the picture in Joel’s hand.

Joel blinks, his fist closing around the little paper. “I- I found it in my jean pocket. Why? Because if you want it you can’t have it.”

Jimmy shakes his head. “I don’t want it. I-“ Jimmy doesn’t really know what to say.

Joel rolls his eyes and shoves Jimmy through the shut door abruptly. Jimmy stumbles backwards, and Joel pokes his head through the wooden frame.

“Nice talk.”

Joel disappears into the door.

Chapter Text

Even though Jimmy is slowly adapting, it doesn’t mean the next few weeks are fluke free. He still finds himself waking up and looking for Lizzie, or trying to get ready for work.

Walking through walls is going to take some getting used to, it seems.

It doesn’t help that They won’t leave him alone.

He’s beginning to see what Grian meant.

To everyone’s credit, the others very understanding when Jimmy wants time alone. Or when he asks questions about things that they clearly know well. Or when he wakes them up shaking and crying for home.

Joel, for his part, tries his best to work it out with Jimmy. It’s going to take longer than just a few weeks to work out their fractured relationship, but they both have high hopes for the future.

Jimmy soon learns the schedule that everyone has. It’s impossible to tell whether it’s night or day, but apparently everyone had a vague schedule, to keep from going insane.

There is a recommended sleeping time, but because some people like Ren or Etho are nocturnal, that’s pretty much thrown out the window. The current order was: sleep when you feel tired.

Joel and Jimmy both found themselves sitting on the couch one day (Jimmy stopped keeping track)- the same faded light green one Jimmy had seen Tango and Scott on the first day he was there- with nothing to do. Joel, of course, took this as an invitation for a deep discussion.

“So.” Joel began slowly, smacking his lips. “Did you put the toilet paper on the right way while I was gone?”

Jimmy blinked. Why would Joel..? “What kind of opening question is that?”

Joel’s voice was low, but a smile still played on his lips. “Answer, lad.”

“I- uh-” Jimmy was caught off guard by the question. “I don’t know? I don’t pay attention to these things.”

Joel stared at him, decisively smacking his lips again. “Right. If you don’t know then I guess we’ll have to say statistically probably fifty-fifty,” Joel tapped his chin, “But knowing that you’re an idiot, I’ll raise that to seventy-thirty chance you put on the wrong way.”

“WHAT?” Jimmy screeched, in mock offence. “I didn’t even mess with the toilet paper that much! All Lizzie! I just bought the stuff-”

Joel rolled his eyes, “Typical Jim. Have Lizzie do everything for you,” he attempted to joke, but it fell flat between them. Lizzie was still a sore topic.

Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck with a translucent hand. “Joel?” He looked innocently towards Joel, who was leaning forward intently. Jimmy swallowed the sandpaper in his throat.

“Is hoping that Lizzie will somehow find us here selfish?”

Joel didn’t respond for a second. His eyes shone with something indistinguishable.

“I think..” He began, “Yes. It’s selfish.”

Jimmy’s heart dropped.

“But-” Joel continued, his voice softening. “I guess we’re both a little selfish that way. Maybe, if she were with us, we’d all be happy.” He looked away.

The weight on Jimmy’s heart lifted. But he still felt a bit of lingering sadness there. “Maybe. If I managed to find this house with her again, I’m sure she can one more time.”

Joel looked at the ground. The shrek ears bobbed on his head. “She might be happier without us, Jim.”

Jimmy couldn’t find it in himself to disagree, even though his mind was screaming to. His mind and heart seemed to work in different ways.

“Joel?” He tentatively asked again.

“What?” Joel barked out, snapping his head to look at Jimmy.

Jimmy swallowed hard again, “Why did you go into the haunted house in the first place?”

Joel paused and sighed.

“I was stupid and went in for a stupid dare that Oli told me to do. He asked me to originally when we were trick-or-treating, and I said no.” He looked off into the distance, with a faraway look in his eyes. “I decided to go there late at night, and grab something to prove my stupid point.”

Jimmy focused on his breathing as Joel continued. “I stayed past midnight, looking for something cool to grab. It was supposed to be quick, Lizzie wouldn’t have even noticed I was gone. But the house got me.”

Joel chuckled slightly. “I remember, on that first day, stumbling into Scott. He looked so surprised to see me, and I just said, ‘You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, loser.’“ His reenactment was lively, but he drooped back down. “He just responded with, ‘Well maybe I have.” Joel looked towards Jimmy, “He didn’t explain, when I yelled at him. I threw out every threat I knew. I don’t think he told anyone of my existence. I was a bit of a rumour for the first year, when I finally got adjusted.”

Jimmy nodded silently.

“Still mad at him for that.” Joel added with a flourish. “Hate him, actually. Gaur, we’re arch-nemeses.”

Jimmy nodded thoughtfully once more, and sat swinging his legs in the silence. There was still more to be said, even if he didn’t want to say it. “You know when you were yelling at me, and you said it was Oli’s fault?”

Joel hardened, “You know I didn’t mean that-“

Jimmy didn’t let him finish. “After you went missing, Oli killed himself.” He softly brushed a bit of hair out of his own eyes, studying the floorboards. His nose prickled.

Joel blinked at Jimmy, his voice surprisingly soft. “What?”

“When he realised that you hadn’t come home after trick or treating, he explained to Lizzie about the haunted house he’d dared you to go in. He assumed that’s where you’d gone.” He was right, it seemed. “When he went to where he’d seen the haunted house before, the next day, it was gone.”

Jimmy’s voice cracked as he relived the memories. “He told us exactly that, and I didn’t really belive him. All that we knew for sure was that you were missing. We filed report after report, but the police couldn’t find anything. Not a single trace of you. You’d vanished into thin air.”

Jimmy felt Joel look away guiltily. “We were all devastated. Both me and Oli assumed you were dead. We never had a funeral service though, because Lizzie was convinced you were still alive.” He laughed at the irony, “I guess she was right, in a way.”

Joel smiled slightly out of the corner of his mouth, but his face couldn’t seem to hold the expression.

“A few months later, Oli called me. Told me his plan. Told me that he wanted to join you, wherever you were.” Jimmy swallowed hard, tears welling up in his eyes. “I should have stopped him. But I didn’t. Partially because I felt the same way. The only reason I didn’t go with him was because someone needed to take care of Lizzie.”

“He was gone too soon for me to process it. He- he-” Jimmy rubbed his nose, “Shot himself. I had been planning to go over and talk with him, later that day. I never got- got the chance.” Jimmy hiccupped. “He left a note. I never showed it to anyone. He blamed himself, for your disappearance, your death, Joel. It killed him.”

Joel opened his mouth, and then closed it. His knuckles clenched on the arm of the couch.

“I hated you, for the longest time. For being able to wreck our lives just by not being there. Lizzie was broken, Oli was dead, I wanted to be dead-“ Jimmy took a shuddering breath. “I was able to build something back up, make new friends. I think after Oli, my friends were extra protective, to save me from the same.”

Jimmy sniffled. “I didn’t go trick or treating, for the next three years. I devoted myself to Lizzie. I dropped out of college and got a job, so I could take better care of Lizzie. Pix, the librarian, tutored me a bit, but it wasn’t the same. It was never the same, without you.”

”I-“ Joel stood up from the couch, “Jim-“

“It’s fine.” Jimmy stood up as well and rubbed his eyes. “That’s all in the past, anyways. I can’t change what happened, or do what I should’ve done. What I need to do is be better so I don’t make the same awful mistakes. So that I don’t lose anything or anyone else.” Sometimes, he wondered if he had already lost everything. “And I’m sure you feel the same way.”

Jimmy turned to Joel, who stood straight, not knowing what to say. The too small leather jacket, gold buttons lining it. His belt, his boots, the green streak in his hair- all of it, transparent but yet somehow the same that Jimmy had remembered. Joel shifted under his gaze.

Jimmy pulled on his own light blue jacket. He wondered, in the back of his mind, if this would be his outfit until the end of time. He smiled faintly at Joel, “At the very least, I’m glad I’m here with you.”

Joel cracked into a sad smile. “Me too, lad. Me too.” He blinked, and then stretched his arms out behind his back, giving Jimmy a look, “Now stop being sappy, you buffoon. I think I’ve had enough heartfelt-ness for the rest of my life. Let’s go and bother Scott.”

Joel didn’t wait for Jimmy to answer before he ran through the wall, presumably to go annoy Scott. Jimmy ran after him, a stupid grin on his face.

Yes, Jimmy wasn’t adapting as fast as he may have wanted, but at the very least, he was starting to feel a bit more comfortable.

A bit more safe.

Chapter Text

Lizzie’s cold breath condenses in the air as she stands. Staring at the entrance to the house. Waiting for Jimmy to come out with Joel. Waiting for her life to be taped back together, regardless of whether all of the pieces were in the right spots or not.

The headlights of cars rush by in the chilly midnight air. Lizzie shivers, but it doesn’t quite feel like her. Doesn’t quite feel like she’s in her own mind. The only things she’s focused on are the double doors of the house. The large, dark oak double doors, with the two brass doorknobs. The dark double doors that matched exactly with what Oli had described to her. The house itself. Its rough stone walls, its overhanging wooden roofs, the red carpet that loomed in every single window.

Joel was in there. Jimmy was going to find him. All she has to do now is wait.

And wait she did.

Until, of course she couldn’t wait. Couldn’t for someone to come out of the house.

Because how do you wait for someone to come out of something that isn’t there?

That is to say, the haunted house vanished.