Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“So where did Jay say he found this thing?” Trevor asked to the small gathering of ghosts in the entrance of the BnB. They were all watching Jay set up an antique gramophone in the foyer. He had been fiddling with it as soon as he got it home. Narrating it live without any knowledge that the ghosts were there watching him, but he was just assuming they were. 

“Some place called ‘Face Place Book Market,’” Flower piped in. 

“I really don’t think that’s right, but you know what,” Sass was not about to try to understand what she was getting at.

They had watched him put together the little table it went on, heard a plethora of different curse words, some of which they were unsure if they were real or not, and then painstakingly tinker with the Gramophone itself. None of them thought he was going to succeed, they just wanted to see how far he got before he gave up. Some even having bet that Sam would be the one to put a stop to it when she got home. 

“Hey Ghosts!” Jay yelled in seemingly no direction, “I got a new creepy old record player! I think it’s all working! The lady I bought it from says that it is super haunted! Actually haunted this time!” 

Though they saw no indication of it being haunted. No ghost attached to it. They had seen a haunted car, a haunted person, but the numerous times Jay had bought some ‘haunted object’ just to bring it home and Sam sadly shake her head no when there wasn’t a ghost that came along with. It always disappointed him, he didn’t know why he thought it would be cool to have an actual haunted object, maybe he just wanted to contribute to the ghosty environment. 

“Too bad we can’t tell Jay he brought home another dud, Sam isn’t going to be home for hours.” Pete lamented, though no one acknowledged it. They were all thinking the same thing, how disappointed he was going to be when he figured out that it was just a regular antique gramophone.

“Ghosts? Are you in the room? Can you give me a sign that you are?” Jay yelled again. He always looked a little lost when trying to talk to the ghosts but Sam wasn’t around. Even when Sam was around he was rarely looking in the right direction. 

The group of ghosts looked between each other, Thor was upstairs with Hetty and Alberta watching ‘Bodices and Barons’ so he couldn’t flicker the lights, and so immediately everyone’s eyes went to Trevor. 

“Come on guys, have Isaac or Flower walk through him,” Trevor whined. Simply because the action would take effort and concentration. Neither of which he wanted to do right now. 

“No one wants to smell Isaacs smelly farts and I think getting Jay high right now would be the wrong choice if we actually want to hear what kind of crazy music is on these.” Sass was egging him on, and Trevor was always an easy victim to peer pressure. 

“Here, ghosty ghosty ghosty, come on, give me a sign, I really hope that I am not talking to an empty room right now.” Jay said with a panicked look on his face. What was his life coming to? Trying to lure signs from beyond the grave so that he could start the gramophone without worry of anyone missing it? 

“Did you hear that Trevor, he's calling us like dogs or horses, honestly I think it's offensive to ghost kind” Isaac added. 

“Hey, you have to give Jay the benefit of the doubt. He is going out on a limb thinking we might be in here and he wants to show us something and-” Pete was getting cut off by Trevor. 

“Hey Pete, I need you to shut up please so that I can concentrate on slapping Jay,” Trevor said, prepping his hand.

“Oh, okay,” Pete said before it really set in what Trevor had said, “Wait, What!” 

And it all happened so fast, in the blink of an eye, the room fell dead silent as the slap went across his face with far more power than anyone expected. Jay looked dazed for a moment, before he found himself backing up against the wall and sliding down to the floor. 

“What the fuck Trev,” Sass said as they all huddled around Jay.

“I have never hit anything that hard before, I thought he was going to get a tickle in his nose at most.” Trevor defended. 

“Yeah, but instead you backhanded him into tomorrow.” 

“Why is Jay on the ground, is he dead?” Flower asked, concerned even though she had seen the whole thing. 

“Trevor knocked him out in one punch,” Pete added.

“Actually it was a slap, which is more impressive.” Trevor seemed a little too proud of himself. 

“Congratulations Trevor, you just bitch slapped Jay so hard that Sam is going to take away the toaster oven in the morning.” Sass bit at him. 

“I did not think I could physically hit anyone that hard. This is just as much of a shock to me.” Trevor tried to continue defending himself, but it all devolved into unintelligible bickering until they were seeing Jay get off the floor. 

Him being upright again caused everyone to fall silent, “So I am going to guess that the slap was Trevor. Which I don’t even feel like I can really be upset about because that was solid for not having any bones.” Jay was nodding his head. “That has to be a new thing, right? Because I heard you struggle with the keyboard stuff and that it takes you a long time,” Jay was returning to the gramophone. 

And like that everyone was paying attention as he pulled one of the disks out of a little box that was under the table. 

Setting it down and dropping the needle, fuzzy music started to fill the B&B. No one really knew what to do, should they stand there and just listen and appreciate the music? No one particularly hated it, but no one particularly liked it either. Only one person recognized the song, and that was Alberta who came running out of the TV room upstairs as soon as the music picked up, “Oh, now this is what I am talking about,” Even if she seemed a little more jazzed then everyone else. But maybe that tracked for her. “Stop just standing there, move!” She was encouraging people to start dancing, showing them a few basic steps, and before long people were finding a groove. None of them were the same groove of course, but all of them found one. 

Another few songs later Thor was coming down stairs to see what all the music was about. He wanted to make sure it was all ‘Thor Approved,’ but really it was just an excuse for everyone to dance. Everyone but Hetty, who stayed upstairs more than content with ‘Bodices and Barons’ without Alberta's gossip or Thor’s commentary. So really everyone was happy. 

Though Jay did not know how much of a success his impromptu dance party was, even a few basement ghosts had come up to join in on the fun. To Jay he was dancing alone to music that was well over a hundred years old in its original format. Trying to take up as little space as possible so as to not hit any ghosts in the process of dancing.Though all of the ghosts left plenty of space around Jay, just in case he decided to break loose a little bit. 

“You know what sucks, because this is a dead music format, these songs that we have are the only ones that we will ever have. I mean maybe on the internet you can find others for sale but I cannot imagine they are cheap. They don’t make them anymore!” Pete had given all sorts of facts as the Woodstone Sock Hop was happening, most people just nodding as he spoke. 

“But Sam is always saying how vintage stuff is so hip, I would think they would start remaking them, like cassette tapes.” Trevor said as they awkwardly danced. Neither of them had the best dance rhythm, but this wasn’t dancing with the stars. 

“I think this is too far back, It's not vintage, it’s antique.” Pete added.

“Can you boys stop yapping and start doing some actual dance moves?” Alberta shouted over to them. 

“I only know how to do the cha-cha slide and the cotton eye joe, but I am sure Pete could do a mean chicken dance.” Trevor retorted. 

“Oh you know I can chicken dance around anyone,” Pete said with a big grin. 

Alberta was rolling her eyes, “I showed everyone some basic steps, I don’t know why you can't use the dances too.” Trevor just shrugged. The real answer being that he just did not pay attention when she was going over them. 

It was a moment of spontaneous fun. Not as common as some might think, but so very important for everyone's well being. “Okay all my ghosty buddies,” As the words left his mouth Jay thought that maybe they were the wrong choice. “This is the last disk I have, and then I'll be pooped. I cannot keep turning the crank on this thing, it's going to kill my arm.” Jay said as he pulled it out of its cover. Somewhere between Syracuse and the Woodstones the note taped to the front of it fell off, so Jay had no idea that this was the one record he was not supposed to play. 

Though the warning of ‘HAUNTED RECORD - DO NOT PLAY’ probably would have made sure that it was the first one played. But it was at the bottom of the box so it played last. 

The song was mildly unnerving, making some of the ghosts feel like they should have quit while they were ahead. But they couldn’t get away fast enough to keep themselves from seeing the drama unfold. 

It started with the strange cloud, “Am I the only one who sees the rapidly shrinking cloud of red right now?” Flower asked, and she very much was not. Everyone else stopped dancing to watch. 

“Did Jay actually bring home a haunted object?” Sass didn’t know if he should have been impressed or horrified. 

“Thor thinks he might.” Somehow Thor was cowering the most. Maybe it was because of the smoke cloud. 

“Hey Thor,” They heard Jay say, “Why are you messing with the lights? Is it the song?” Everyone looked to Thor and he shrugged, just as confused as the rest of them, “I know you are a big guy with big feelings but this is not good for the electric bill.”

The cloud of light poured out of the record, compressing as it went, the lights getting crazier and crazier. The cloud slowly took shape. A person, a ghost. The lights just getting more intense, the song getting more and more unnerving, until the lights flashed like strobes before plunging the entire house into darkness for a few moments. Then returning to normal lighting. Everything was exactly as it was before, except for the woman who stood next to the gramophone. 

She looked like Hetty in the sense that she was dressed all old-timey. Her skirt all the way to the floor, her bodice going all the way up her neck and sleeves to her wrists. The silhouette was completely different from Hetty as well as the color. Making the only real similarity was the type of garments being worn. But every other aspect of them completely different. She was even wearing a hat. 

The woman looked around slightly fearful as she saw the other ghosts, though all of them looked at her right back. “Where am I?” She asked as she put her hand on the gramophone. Like she was protecting it. 

The ghosts looked back and forth at each other, until Pete stepped forward, “Hi, I’m Pete, Welcome to-” His introduction spiel cut off by Hetty’s screaming. 

“Thor!” She was at the top of the stairs yelling down at him. “You knew I was watching television, you knew how much I was looking forward to this marathon, but now I need someone who can touch the real world to turn it back on. And I know Trevor does not have nearly enough stamina to get it all the way to the episode I was on.” Her voice was close to calm and that was almost scarier. Everyone stood close to silently except for Jay, completely unaware of the drama unfolding in the foyer. 

“It wasn’t me!” Thor yelled back to Hetty. 

“Oh really? It wasn’t you? Who else makes the lights flicker?” The rage seemed to be growing in Hetty, like a pressure cooker. 

“It was her!” Thor was pointing to the woman standing next to the gramophone. Everyone looked between Hetty and the woman, until Hetty was coming down the stairs in a huff, completely full of rage. Standing toe to toe with her, the other woman was slightly taller, looking down at Hetty with far less fear than she seemed to have when she first appeared next to the gramophone. 

“Who are you, and what do you have to say for yourself?” Hetty’s voice overly calm yet murderously sharp. “I had a very important marathon going on and it is completely unforgivable that you would interrupt it like that. I ought to teach you a lesson.” 

A strange smile appeared on the woman's face. “Are you done with your little temper tantrum?” She said, but it only seemed to upset Hetty more. “Or do you want to scream more about trivial matters? Go ahead, I’ll wait for you to stop screaming like a petulant child.” Her voice had an ever so slight accent to it. 

But the phrasing only seemed to anger Hetty even more. “I am the lady of this house, and you will not speak to me that way.” 

“Lady of the house?” The woman seemed to be smiling to herself even more, she was looking Hetty up and down, preparing to read her to filth. “With an attitude and dress like that I would have been surprised to hear you were as much as the housekeeper.”

Hetty was not a violent person, not by a long shot. In neither life nor death had she been pushed to the point of violence. But like a petty schoolyard fight she was attacking the woman, and all the other ghosts swarmed around to try to get them separated. 

All the while Jay was oblivious, so when the door opened he was just excited to tell Sam about the gramophone. “Hey, guess what-” 

“Not now Jay,” She was not even closing the door, she was dropping her things and rushing over to where the fight was happening, “What the hell is going on!” She asked to no one in particular as she was wedging herself between the two women as they were separated. “Who even are you?” 

Both Hetty and the woman were shaking the people who pulled them away from each other off of them, the woman was fixing her hat and bodice, not answering to Sam. 

Pete finally piped in, “Jay brought home a haunted gramophone, this ghost came out of it and made the power surge, which turned off the TV, so Hetty took matters into her own hands.” 

Sam looked to Hetty, “She called me a housekeeper!” 

“No, I said that you weren’t even good enough to be a housekeeper,” the woman said, and people had to hold Hetty back again. “Lady of the house? Screaming and attacking a guest in her home? That is barely a lady.” 

“Okay, Hetty, go take a walk, or sit upstairs or something,” Sam was trying her hardest to gain control of the situation. 

“But I-” 

“No, we can’t be fighting people.” 

“Was there a ghost fight? Was there a ghost fight and I didn’t even get to see?” Jay pouted. 

Isaac was leading Hetty outside, getting her away from the situation, and Sam returned her attention to the woman. “Hello,” Sam had a smile that was trying to hide her uneasiness. 

The woman was putting her hand on the gramophone again. Like a crutch. Like a scared animal. Only lifting it off to try to fix her hat and dress. 

“My name is Sam, I’m a living who can see ghosts,” Sam's face overly courteous. “Over there is my husband Jay, he can’t see ghosts but he knows you exist.” 

“Hold on, was it actually haunted this time?” Jay looked like a kid on christmas morning. 

“I’ll catch you up in a moment,” she called back to him before returning her attention to the ghost at hand. “We normally are not like this, I promise we are nice,” Sam looked overly pleading and the woman looked scared, hand still gripping the gramophone. “How about we go sit down in the living room and we can talk it over a little?” She looked at the gramophone like she needed permission, “Do you need to stay near the record player?” Sam asked. 

“Technically it’s a gramophone,” Pete piped in. 

“Thank you Pete,” Sam tried to move past it quickly, “Do you need to stay near the gramophone?” 

The woman looked between Sam and the gramophone and the rest of the ghosts, and Jay who was staring off in the wrong direction, then back to the gramophone. “No,” she said, lifting her hand off it. Through her eyes, still glued to it. “I just don't like to be far. It makes me worry,”

“We promise nothing is going to happen to the rec- gramophone.” Sam’s smile was almost concerningly pleading. But eventually she coaxed the woman into the sitting room. “So,” it was overly awkward as everyone huddled around curiously. Jay had not joined, but Sam had promised to fill him in later. “I am sure all of this is very scary for you, but I promise we are not mean.” 

“You said that already,” Sass added. 

The woman looked around at everyone as they all watched her intently. She sat straight up, tense, like she was on trial. 

“Is everyone making you nervous?” Sam asked, smile probably still too wide. 

“They are all standing fairly close,” The woman said, and with that everyone took a step back. 

“It isn’t very often we get a new ghost around here so I think we are all just excited to meet you,” Alberta said trying to support Sam in her efforts, though how successful she was was unclear. 

“Plus, you were ready to throw down with Hetty, so I think everyone is also kinda impressed.” Sass also added, though it seemed like none of it was really helping. It all seemed to just make her more nervous overall. 

“My apologies, I am not used to ghosts being this… organized. Or welcoming. It has also been a while, I think, since I was on the outside.” The woman said, speaking slowly, choosing her words carefully.

“Well, let's just start slow then, what’s your name?” Sam said, hoping to calm the waters some. 

The woman looked around at everyone, a look of fear still across her face. “Winifred,” She said like she was almost trying to remind herself, “Winifred Dallimore.” 

Chapter Text

Isaac and Hetty were walking the grounds of the manor, “Why the hell did you do that? Since when do you attack people?” He asked, trying not to seem too worked up over that matter but entirely was. 

“She called me a housekeeper.” Hetty said defensively.

“But we don’t hit people over that!” Isaac was honestly flabbergasted. He didn’t even think Hetty had it in her. “Maybe you have been spending too much time watching television with Thor.” He said as they started to near the edge of the property and began following the ghost barrier line. 

“Maybe so.” She felt slightly ashamed of herself, but probably not nearly as ashamed as she should have. “I just don’t know what came over me, she called me a petulant child and then she called me a housekeeper and the only thing I could think of was of those girls on that show about the New Jersey Shoreline.” Maybe it was true, maybe television did make people violent. 

“Fighting isn’t the answer to your problems,” Isaac was trying to be the voice of reason. 

Hetty just looked at him like the hypocrite he was, “You, are telling me, fighting is not the answer? Didn’t you actively try to solve your problem with England by fighting them?” It was an eye roll more than anything. 

Isaac was laughing nervously. “This isn’t about that, this is about you deciding that before even trying to talk through your problems, which we did before going to war, you just decided to declare war on that poor woman.” 

“She started it, she made the power go out.” She was acting like a petulant child, but she didn’t want to take responsibility. 

Isaac didn’t really know how to argue against her. “I don’t think she meant to. I think it just kind of happened when she came out of the disk thingy,” god help her if it was on purpose. “Plus, I am pretty sure that woman is connected to that music box thing, so as soon as Sam and Jay get rid of it she will no longer be an issue. Just be civil until that happens.” 

Hetty did not like to stand down from her arguments. “It was still wrong that she called me housekeeper, that was completely uncalled for.” 

Isaac knew that she needed some kind of win, “Really I don’t know how she could have possibly thought that, you have far more class than any housekeeper.” And that seemed to satisfy her enough to replace that slightly smug look on her face that she so often wore. 

Back inside the house everyone gathered around Winifred to ask her questions, as well as answer hers. 

“So, Winifred, how long have you been a ghost?” Sam asked, hoping it wouldn’t offend her. 

 Winifred looked around at everyone again. “I am unsure. Last time I was out of the gramophone was 1983, before that was 1978, before that I start getting the years mixed up, but probably all together no more than a few months. Maybe six?” She said it in all earnest, her accent mostly English but just the smallest touch of something else. 

“I was still alive in 1983,” Pete piped in. 

“So was I.” Trevor added.

“Wait, so you are only occasionally a ghost? Where are you the rest of the time?” Sam asked. 

“I don’t really know.” The question seemed to stir some kind of fear in her. 

“So what makes you be a ghost?” Sam asked, everyone was listening closely. 

“The gramophone.” She said it like it was obvious. “And the disk. When they are played together I can see the world again, but then after a few days I begin to disappear…” She trailed off, like the thought disturbed her. “But as long as the disk is in the gramophone I can make it play, watch,” She lifted up her finger in the air and spun it slowly, and that unnerving song played again. “I can do it with other musical discs and record players too, but there's only so many times someone will leave my disk on the gramophone if to them it just starts playing on its own.” She was looking back at the gramophone as the music came to a halt.

“So we will just leave the disk on the gramophone, and you can play it when you need to refresh yourself,” Sam said it like it was a no-brainer, but Winifred looked at her like she couldn’t believe it. 

“Really? You’ll just leave it on for me?” She looked around at the other ghosts like she was looking for some sort of confirmation that she was telling the truth. “Would she really leave it for me?” 

“Yeah. Sam and Jay are totally cool. They do stuff all the time that are just because we want to, not even because we need it to exist.” Sass assured her. 

“Welcome to Woodstone, Winifred,” Sam said with an excited smile. “Technically it is a Bed and Breakfast, so we do have guests who come stay with us. But for the most part it is fairly calm around here.”

“What year is it?” Was the first question out of Winifred’s mouth. 

“It is 2025.” Sam said, it seemed to shock her a bit, but who wouldn’t be shocked if they hadn’t seen the world in nearly 45 years?

“How can you see ghosts?” Was her next question. 

“I took a really bad fall, and apparently, now I can see ghosts!” Sam said, trying to lighten the situation.

Winifred looked more and more uneasy again. “Why are you being so welcoming? I am a stranger.” she looked around at all the other ghosts.

“Well, um,” Sam was looking for a good way to put it. “We were all strangers once. But just because you are a stranger doesn’t mean we have to push you away.” 

“Are all of them ghosts?” She was gesturing to everyone else. 

“Yes,” Sam said, starting to point to the respective ghosts as she introduced them. “ There's Thor, Flower, Pete, Trevor, Sasapis, and Alberta.” Winifred nodded along as she spoke. “And Isaac is somewhere with Hetty, who I am so sorry for. I have never seen her lash out like that before.” 

“She was very excited about her marathon, and didn't like you interrupting it.” Thor added. 

“I was not the one who put on the record, if anyone is to blame it is that man who can’t see ghosts.” Winifred was once again getting defensive. “I really don’t know how she expects to have any amount of respect be given towards her if her first instinct is to hit and bite when she’s faced with any amount of disturbance. Especially when that disturbance was not even intentional.” Winifred was sitting with her arms crossed. 

“Wait, Hetty bit you?” Trevor asked. 

“Yes. She bit me. And I barely even laid a hand on her. Her actions were completely uncalled for.” Winifred seemed to huff at her own statement. 

“Hetty’s actions will be dealt with.” But Sam didn’t even know how to approach it. “For now, don’t even worry about her, just let yourself get settled in, take all the time you need.” Sam was getting up and heading towards the kitchen, to fill in Jay on everything that had happened. 

“So, do I finally get to know?” He asked like it was life changing news. 

“That record player you brought home has a record that has a ghost attached to it. Her name is Winifred and she seems pretty shaken up. Apparently when you put on the record the power flickered and Hetty lost it because her show stopped, and decided that she was going to bite Winifred in retaliation? The ghost fight logistics are a little unclear.” 

“So there was a ghost fight?” Jay asked. 

“Yes, there was a ghost fight. But more importantly, there’s a new ghost.” 

Back in the living room Winifred was standing up and finishing fixing her clothes. She looked over to Trevor, looking him up and down, completely horrified. “Why are you not wearing any trousers?” 

“It was a hero move.” Though that did not give the context she was looking for.

“He gave his pants to another guy who didn’t have pants and then died before he could get his pants back.” Alberta clarified. 

Winifred just nodded. Then she looked to Thor, “You are very tall,” She took a few steps back, like she was trying not to look startled. 

“Yes, Thor is very tall. I am glad you noticed.” Thor smiled as he said it. 

Winifred was slowly making her way back towards the gramophone. 

“I’m Pete by the way,” He said following her, “If you have any questions and Sam isn’t around you can ‘shoot’ them towards me,” He pointed to the arrow as he said it, just nodded again as her hand found it’s way back onto the gramophone and she let out a deep breath. 

“Hey guys, maybe let’s just give her some space,” Sass said, falling back as everyone else followed Winifred. “Hetty already bit her, we don’t want her to get overwhelmed.” 

“I think everyone is excited since there's someone new.” Alberta said as she also fell back. There would be time to get to know each other in the future. 

And soon everyone was giving her her space, letting her be alone in the foyer and giving her time to adjust. Every so often they would hear the record start to play for a bit, and then it would stop again. Like she was anxiously playing it in case she couldn’t play it again in the future. 

It made sense that someone would never put that record on again if it started and stopped playing as many times as it did that evening. Moments of eerie music filling the house with the silence following seemingly just as unnerving. But Winifred worried that any given moment the record would be taken away and she would have to fade back into oblivion until the next person accidentally awoke her. 

By the time Hetty and Isaac had made it back to the house she felt some more shame in her actions. “I am sorry Samantha, I have been watching far too much reality television and did not think about my actions.” She said with barely an apology in her voice. 

“I am not the one you should be apologizing to, you should be apologizing to Winifred.” Sam told her. 

“Winifred? Who's Winifred?” Hetty asked with shock. 

“Winifred. The woman you bit for accidentally making the power surge,” Sam pointed towards the foyer. 

“Why would I apologize to her, I am never going to see her again.” Then the realization hit her, “You are getting rid of the gramophone, correct? That disrespectful witch is no longer here, right?” A small section of the song played out again and Hetty’s face seemed to fill with something between fear and rage. “Samantha, you have to get rid of her.” 

“Why? It seems like she is just anxious and defensive because she normally doesn’t get very long to be a ghost. You know, I don’t know exactly when she is from but I am willing to bet you have probably a bit in common.” 

Hetty rolled her eyes. “She called me a petulant child and said I wasn’t even dressed well enough to be a housekeeper.” 

“Well from what I understand you screamed at her too and then attacked her, so maybe you were acting like a petulant child.” Hetty was aghast at the statement. “And, maybe she is from a time where how you are dressed is out of fashion.” 

“She said I had no manners.” Hetty argued. 

“Well then prove her wrong and have the decency to apologize to that poor woman. Imagine if you became a ghost and the first thing someone did was attack you.” Hetty was about to argue back with something, but Sam was cutting her off. “It was just an episode of television. You are still going to be able to watch it in the future.” 

Hetty conceded, she would be the bigger person, though she hated doing so. Walking out to the foyer and in front of the woman, an annoyed look on Hetty's face as Winifred took a small step back, her hand still on the gramophone. 

“I am deeply sorry I yelled at you Winona. It was very uncivilized of me, and I consider myself a civilized woman. So let’s just put this all behind us and just move on. Like it never even happened.” Hetty barely sounded genuine, if anything she sounded annoyed about the whole situation. 

“Winifred.” Was Winifred’s only reply.

“What?” Hetty asked. 

“You called me Winona. My name is Winifred. And honestly, I find it even more rude that you got my name wrong than if you didn’t even say a name at all.” Winifred was standing taller again, that smug look back on her face. Maybe because they were closer in time she was less nervous but Winifred has much less of a problem talking back to Hetty than it seemed she had talking back to anyone else. 

“Winona, Winifred, I feel like it is an easy mistake to make. Now, can we just put this all behind us? Wouldn’t you rather move on?” Hetty said, still sounding more annoyed than anything.

“No.” Winifred said, finally taking her hand off the gramophone and crossing her arms. 

“No?” Hetty needed to clarify. 

“No. We cannot just put this behind us, because you cannot even give me the basic decency of apologizing to me with my actual name, or for your actual uncivilised actions of attacking me and biting me. Do you understand how insulting that is? You think I am not even worth an actual apology and that I am stupid enough to accept it just because you said ‘I am deeply sorry.’ Hetty, that is your name, correct? I think you are a petulant child who is used to getting her way and I honestly think it is pathetic.” She looked at Hetty with some sort of disgust. Maybe it was pity. Maybe it was some other thing entirely. 

“You can’t just not accept my apology.” Hetty tried to argue. 

“You didn’t even apologize.” Winifred was raising her voice. 

“Then what would you consider an apology then?” Hetty said it like a taunt, but Winifred was more than fed up. 

The slap across Hetty’s face was loud enough that people stopped giving them their space and were rushing into the room. She barely knew how to react. Maybe she deserved it. Maybe that was one of the reasons she was not nearly as mad as she probably could have been. Because who was she to judge for Winifred resorting to violence. 

But the worst of it all was that no one told Winifred off. Everyone just stood there. Because Hetty had it coming. “I believe that at least begins to even us out.” Winifred said, letting her hand fall back to the gramophone as she looked at everyone. 

Hetty tried to stand up tall as she retreated. Isaac tried to comfort her but she pushed his hand away. “I recant any amount of apology I have given, and I am not sorry for my behavior. You call me a petulant child but at least I am not attached at the hip to a gramophone like an infant and their sock doll.” 

Chapter Text

The house had become impossibly tense. Hetty and Winifred refused to be in the same room together, and even if they could hear the other talking they would become annoyed. The conversation would always devolve into either woman’s distaste for the other. Trying to get whoever they were talking to to take their side in the growing feud between them. 

And it only got worse. Everyone thought that in time they would both get over it, water under the bridge, at least be civil about the matter. But their hatred for each other only grew. Both of them too stubborn to be the bigger person so their malice just festered within the house like an infection. Making everyone upset and arguments starting faster and faster. 

“We need to do something about them, they aren’t getting better on their own and they are going to drive us all insane with their backhanded bickering.” Sam had gathered a group of ghosts in the kitchen, out of earshot of both Hetty and Winifred. 

“Maybe we need to just let them work it out on their own, we can’t exactly force them to get along.” Sass was trying to be a voice of reason, though it felt like reason was quickly disappearing in the house. 

“Hetty has become near insufferable and Winifred seems like she is refusing to open up at all, the only thing she talks about is how disrespectful Hetty is.” Sam seemed like she was about ready to lose it. “We can’t live like this,” 

“It’s getting on my last nerve too Sam, but if we try to force them to like each other it will make everything so much worse.” Alberta added. 

“So if we try to make them friends, it will get worse. But if we let it keep going the way it is going, it will also get worse. It seems like the only option might be getting rid of the gramophone,” But Sam didn’t like that idea. Really Winifred was not malicious, she had every reason to dislike, even hate, Hetty. But she told her that this was a place she didn’t have to worry about getting put away again. 

“If we get rid of the gramophone, Winifred disappears. And sure it would be completely breaking her trust, but if that's what it takes to get Hetty to stop going off about how awful Winifred is, it honestly might be worth it.” Sass said. It was a somber moment. Everyone knew, everyone knew this was it and Sam was going to have to kill that ghost for their own sanity. 

Sam was getting up, swallowing her pride, she really didn’t want to do this. 

“Wait,” Pete called out, like a lightbulb went off. “We can’t force them to be friends, but we can force them to spend time together.” He said it with a wide grin, like he was proud of himself. 

“And they will probably tear each other to shreds if we put them in the same room.” Alberta was rolling her eyes. 

“No, you don’t get it, we can make a ghost court ruling that their punishment for hitting each other is spending a certain amount of time together everyday. Will they probably hate it at first? Absolutely, but I think if they have to do it for long enough they will at least learn how to be civil enough with each other that they aren’t trying to recruit us to side with them and then we don’t have to send Winifred back to the record dimension.” He said putting his hands on his hips in triumph. 

“Isn’t that rigging ghost court?” Sass asked. 

Sam chimed in before Pete could think about his own disregard of the integrity of the ghost legal system too much, “No I think Pete might be right. If we frame it as a punishment, then it is understandable that they hate it. And hopefully they will learn to exist around each other. They don’t have to be friends, they just need to not be fighting.” Sam was nodding, “Okay, we need to call ghost court into session and get them sentenced.” She said a little too eagerly.   

It really didn’t need much rigging. As soon as they brought up the issue at hand everyone, but Hetty and Winifred, were in agreement that that is what their punishment should be, not only for hitting each other, but for making everyone else miserable in the process. 

“Is there any other punishment I could possibly get?” Hetty pleaded. 

Pete just shook his head no before anyone could say anything. 

“Well, what would make this all go away, there has to be another option.” Winifred seemed  just as upset over the predicament as Hetty. 

Pete and Alberta and Sass all looked at each other. “You could properly apologize and forgive each other and begin existing civilly with each other.” Pete said it like a genuine option, like they might opt for it. But both Hetty and Winifred had looks of disgust on their faces. 

“I would much rather be silently stuck in a room with that gauche dollymop than ever forgive her.” Hetty said, lesser of two evils, though she still would hate every moment of it. 

“I refuse to agree with that petulant child, but I will never give her any amount of courtesy.” Winifred added. 

“She can’t even come up with new insults, she's been calling me a petulant child for weeks.” Hetty rolled her eyes. 

“I will stop calling you a petulant child when you stop being one.” Winifred bit back. Any onlooker would have thought that their distaste for each other was deep seeded and long living, but it was just hostile communication that had been blown out of proportion to the point of no return. 

But they did agree to the terms brought on by ghost court. Maybe it is because they both knew deep down that what they were doing was not sustainable. Even if they still talked shit about each other, but once a day they sat in the living room silently avoiding eye contact. 

Winifred had wanted to keep the gramophone in her line of sight, if it was up to her they would have stood next to it but Hetty would refuse to spend any amount of time with Winifred if she had to stand next to the door for an hour every day. So they sat in the living room so she could see the foyer. Complete and utter silence with tension you could cut with a knife, but it was something. 

And maybe it worked, or maybe both of them were growing tired of complaining. They still avoided each other all other hours of the day. And if for some reason they were in the same room either of them would roll their eyes at the others comments. 

Winifred slowly grew more comfortable at Woodstone, she was more and more comfortable moving farther and farther from the gramophone. She became more comfortable talking to other ghosts and Sam, but Hetty never saw any of that, she would willfully never see any of that. Other than their ghost court mandated 1-hour a day, she tried her hardest to pretend she didn’t exist. 

It had been well over a month of their arrangement when Winifred looked away from the gramophone and towards the window, spring in full swing. Hetty also looked out the window wistfully, if she didn’t have to spend her hour of silence with Winifred she would probably be walking the garden, either with someone or on her own. 

“Why don’t you two go outside?” Sam said, snapping them both out of their window induced trance, “I think the agreement is just that you two spend time together, not that you have to be in this room.” 

Hetty rolled her eyes as if the answer was obvious. “We cannot go outside Samantha, because that would require Winifred to be out of view of her precious gramophone, and we all know that if it isn’t within her line of sight she will simply poof into thin air,” Hetty said with a dramatic gesture. 

Winifred stood up dramatically from her seat, “I didn’t think such a simple housebound creature such as your supposed ‘lady’ would have any interest in the actual beauty of the outdoors,” she said, turning up her nose. 

Soon Hetty was on her feet as well, skirts in hand and rage simmering just beneath her skin. Sam was ready to interfere if need be, but didn’t even know what she would do if they began to fight again. She would be subject to watch until she could find someone who could actually interact with the ghost world. “Aren’t you afraid your precious little gramophone is going to disappear?” Hetty taunted. 

“Samantha?” Winifred said, turning her attention to Sam, “Could you be a darling host and watch the gramophone to make sure that it is unharmed?” She asked with a near genuine smile, though something about it was still exaggerated. 

“I would be more than happy to, Winifred.” Sam said. But the tension in the room was already palpable. Like one wrong move and it would become yet another screaming match. 

“I guess that settles it,” Hetty said, her voice far too calm. “I will meet you in the garden.” 

Chapter Text

Trevor and Sass stood at the window upstairs watching as Hetty and Winifred departed for their stroll. Almost like watching animals get introduced to the zoo. 

“How long do you think it’s going to take them before they don’t completely hate each other?” Trevor asked as they watched them bicker about which direction to go in. Both of them trying to stay calm but failing miserably, and escalating it into a verbal argument with some very choice words. 

“Two years if we are lucky.” Sass replied. He wished that he was exaggerating. But he had known Hetty for a long time, and if she knew how to do anything it was wait. She could wait out the grim reaper if it got her what she wanted. He had known Winifred for not even a fraction of that but he could tell she could also wait, though it was a different type of waiting. Where Hetty waited expectantly for things to change, letting her eyes and judgement burrow into you, Winifred moved on. Disregarded what did not go her way, and praised the things that did. And those things that did not go her way she would ridicule past death if they dared question her judgment. And unstoppable force and an immovable object. “Realistically, upwards of ten.” 

The answer made Trevor grimace. He did not want his next ten years being eaten up with being subjected to cat fights. It seemed like enough to make him go mad. Make anyone go mad. “I don’t know if I could listen to this for ten years.” Trevor admitted. He didn’t know if he could listen to it for one year. “If they don’t sort it out by the end of summer I think we need to either up the ante or…” Trevor didn’t want to say it, but it was the easier answer. And she wouldn’t know any different. Sure, it was a shitty thing to do, but if putting her back in the record kept everyone sane, maybe it was worth it. 

“We can’t get rid of her, she has a right to be mad at Hetty,” Sass argued. 

“But she didn’t even die on property. I don’t know, I just can’t do the arguing anymore.” Trevor was shaking his head. He felt bad for implying ghost murder but he was truly desperate. Just as desperate as everyone else in the house. 

From then on Hetty and Winifred spent their time outdoors. Away from the peering eyes and attentive ears that they knew were all around. Both of them were well aware that they had become the biggest drama. That when they sat together others were nearby just waiting for things to get juicy. Hetty didn’t even realize how aware of it she was until she felt herself relaxing her shoulders more on their walks, felt less of that tense dread that had always filled her entire chest. She thought that dread came from Winifred, but maybe it came from the others waiting for her to interact with Winifred. 

Winifred relaxed a certain amount too. Still stoically reserved, but not as fast to pull the trigger on insults and bad mouthing. She picked fights with Hetty less and less, complained to others about her less and less. She felt herself growing disinterested in the bickering. Before long it felt more like a chore than an indulgence. A reluctant requirement more than an itching compulsion. But she did not want to be the one to even approach burying the hatchet. She did not want to stand down. She would rather wait in mind numbing silence for a proper apology than be that bigger person. 

Hetty and Winifred stood at the far end of the property watching a bird in total and utter silence. It was jumping around on the ground back and forth on the ground almost like a dance. It made Winifred smile. How she missed the birds. She had forgotten how much she had missed the birds. She had yet to meet a bird she did not find some amount of joy in. It was such a simple thing, such a simple moment, but for that small simple moment, listening to the light breeze rustle the wind and watching the bird jump around, Winifred could almost forget that she was dead. 

A rustle in the leaves made the bird leave in an instant, and Winifred let her eyes follow it until it disappeared into the distance. And then still gazed in its direction like she was longing for it to come back. “Don’t you ever wish you could be like them?” Winifred wistfully lamented, not even thinking about the company she was in. 

The comment caught Hetty off guard, causing her to focus her attention on Winifred, as she continued to gaze off into the distance with a type of deep seeded longing in her eyes. It seemed like an intrusion of privacy to see that expression on her, like it was something Hetty was not supposed to see. It was far too honest. “Yes.” Hetty caught herself saying, like that glint of vulnerability had become infectious and she could not get herself to disregard the appeal of spreading her wings and flying away. 

But her statement snapped Winifred out of her longing gaze, and she once again had a stoicness to her that Hetty knew all too well. And she hated it. Hetty hated that she saw that ever brief moment of unintentional vulnerability. That she saw anything in Winifreds eyes other than malice and wrath. She wanted to hate Winifred with all her heart, she wanted to roll her eyes and conspire, but she had known that feeling of watching birds come and go as they pleased and wondered if she would be happier eating worms than living the life she was. Because Hetty had known that feeling in life. She had walked the property grounds and watched birds come and go and thought funny ideas about life as a bird. 

Winifred silently turned back towards the house, she did not dare say another word in Hetty’s presence. Her statement was a lapse in judgment that she did not know how to deal with the implications of the agreement. She had watched as Hetty rarely agreed to things in the last month and a half, and when she did, there were about a thousand ‘ifs, ands, and buts’ that had to be dealt with. So to hear just a simple and singular ‘yes’ almost did not compute with what she had come to know as Hetty Woodstone. 

As the days rolled on the constant silence became more and more unbearable between the two of them. Though neither of them wanted to break it. The novelty of hate had started to wear off. Especially since all of the other ghosts refused to indulge them in it. So even if no one buried it, the hatchet slowly sunk into the ground, or at least became overgrown to the point that both of them were having a hard time finding it. Even if at times they wanted to dig for it. It felt like they needed reasons to disagree, but there would be small moments where they would both smile at the same bird, or roll their eyes at the same comment. Small moments where they could not stand that they might agree with the other. 

The summer was growing hotter and the tenseness on their walks was changing its origin. So many moments where Hetty felt the urge to neutrally comment on something though she held her tongue. If Winifred refused to speak to her, she would refuse to initiate conversation with Winifred. Though at moments it felt difficult to hold her tongue. 

But the silence could not last forever. 

“How long do they really think they can make us do this for?” Winifred said as they made a turn around the corner of the property. It was like a breath of fresh air. Catching Hetty’s attention and refusing to let it go. “We are civil enough with each other now that you have finally decided to stop attacking me,” Hetty continued to hold her tongue. “I would just prefer to not have to spend an hour of my day in your presence.” 

She was offended, of course. How could she not be? But she was generally offended in Winifred’s presence. She was offended for the same reasons as her, that they were forced to spend time together. “I think they keep making us do it for their own enjoyment.” Hetty said with a roll to her eyes. 

Winifred looked over at her suddenly, almost tripping as she did so. Like she was shocked to hear Hetty’s reply. 

“I will point out that you are the one who broke the silence, so I am of no moral failing.” Hetty said with a smug look on her face. 

“Of no moral failing? You think it was my morality that kept me silent in your presence?” Winifred asked as they quickly made their same pace. Hetty looked over at her, an entertained smile threatening its way onto her face. “I kept quiet around you because I did not want to endure such dull conversation.” 

But they were talking now, and neither of them were going to be quick to reinstate that silence. 

“I almost forgot how much of a self important wooden spoon you are.” Though Hetty entertained herself with the phrase. “All high and mighty, but holds onto a gramophone for dear life.” Hetty teased. 

“You criticize me for using the same insults over and over again, but yet can’t seem to let that one go.” Winifreds voice somewhere between pissed and intrigued. 

“Well I just don’t understand why you care so much about the wellbeing of that silly gramophone if you can’t do anything to protect it.” Though who was she really to talk? She knew far too much about sentimentality. 

It was bickering more than anything, insults traded back and forth between each other, interwoven with the laments of how they wished they were anywhere but in each other's presence. And the worst part was, no one else would listen to them complain about each other. So if they wanted to bitch and moan they had to wait for their time together the next day, and proceed to complain about it then. Which of course the other could defend, and that made it an extra challenge. How do you remove the humanity from someone who is so much like you? Because Hetty was starting to see it, the similarities between them. They complained in a similar cadence, had similar opinions when it came to strolling strategies, shared some other opinions that Hetty had not revealed they shared. But by the time they would reach the house the silence would instate itself again, like an unwritten rule. Even if they did speak to one another, the others at the house didn’t get to know that. It was the greatest topic that they agreed upon, nearly bonded over, the feeling that their forced time together was cruel and unusual punishment. And both of them, the stubborn women that they were, refused to let the other ghosts win.  

Chapter Text

The complaining wore away after a while. Though Hetty would still swear their afternoons were torture. As they walked in the sun, listening to the birds, she would say they hated each other more than God hated the Devil. But that rage had simmered down to a mild annoyance. And even that at times felt like Hetty was holding onto dear life for. She wanted to continue to hate Winifred with all her heart, see nothing but malice when she accidentally gazed in her direction, but instead she just saw a woman she found mildly annoying, and a major nuisance. 

“Oh, I really don’t remember the last time I had a proper summer.” Winifred had stopped to bask, taking a seat in the grass and leaning back with her eyes shut. Tilting her head back enough as to make her hat purposefully useless in blocking out the sun. 

Hetty also sat in the grass, but she sat far more upright. “Well I assume you had a proper summer when you were a living.” Hetty had come to know the basics of Winifred’s disposition. How her existence as a ghost was completely dependent on not only the gramophone, but also the record. And because of the record's unsettling nature, people rarely played it more than once. Leaving Winifred with normally only a few days before she disappeared again. So she hopscotched through time, place to place with that threat of never returning. 

“Oh even before I died I had not known summer in far too many years. Not everyone is a Baroness who can summer and winter and luncheon to their heart's content.” Hetty rolled her eyes as Winifred spoke. They were tucked away on a back corner of the property, a clearing in the trees made it perfect for summer sunbathing. 

There were snippets they would learn about each other. Times when they would slip up and say something a little too personal. Something a little too close to friendly. And either of them would have to cut it with an insult or a derogatory phrase. “You wouldn’t know what a luncheon was if it told you the time of day,” Though Hetty was running out of them. Insults existing out of necessity instead of out of malice. Said closer to jokes than to criticisms. 

And slowly insults faded, at least on their walks. The more they talked the less they felt inclined to hit and stab and shun. They would exchange pleasantries and discuss the weather and the flora and fauna. But as soon as they made their way back around towards the house silence and bickering would ensue again. Another unwritten, undiscussed, rule. It did not matter if they were neutral with each other in practice, in theory they hated each other. At the end of the day they were enemies, they were the worst part of each other's day. That hour of forced coexistence was like a fate worse than death, even if that fate more and more led to pleasant conversations, sometimes even smiles. 

It was another sun soaked afternoon as they lounged in the grass, far out of view from any other ghosts, pleasantries being exchanged in relative privacy. “I don’t think I will ever grow tired of this,” Winifred let out a sigh of relief as she fell backwards into the grass. Hetty looked over as she let the back of her hat collapse into the ground. When she would sit back up it would snap back together, but for now Winifred just let it break. “Sunshine, and soft grass, why do none of the other ghosts bask? Yes, yes, yes, I know about the chair, but there is an entire yard of sunshine, and they all sit indoors like they will fall ill if they spend too much time outdoors.” 

Hetty would have normally been with the others, sitting inside not even thinking of the wonders of the outdoors. Maybe it just took a fresh pair of eyes to remind people of the simple things that they are forgetting the happiness within them. “Maybe they all need an hour of mandatory outdoor time.” 

Winifred smiled, more than the smile from the sunshine, but as a reaction. “Is that what we are calling this now? Mandatory outdoor time?” 

“No, this is the hour of the day where I am subjected to your whims.” Though Hetty had become indifferent to the punishment brought on by ghost court. 

“Subjected to my whims? I have never heard you express a single whim.” 

“I have expressed many whims.” Hetty argued. 

“Name a single whim you have ever expressed within my vicinity.” 

“For you to cease existing so that I no longer have to deal with you and this hour of mandatory interaction.” And though the words were harsh, Hetty said them like it was overly dramatic. Though not that long ago she would have done anything to get that gramophone out of the house. 

“Oh yes, how can I forget about your wish for me to miraculously disappear.” Winifred was sitting back up, the broken part of her hat snapping back together. “Very rude of you, you know. I am a guest in your home and you only wish for my demise.” 

It was the same argument they had been having for the entire time they have known each other, but now the tone was far more light hearted. “You are not a guest, you were never invited. If anything, you are an intruder.” 

“And yet, you are the only one who thinks so.” Winifred was getting up off the grass, “I am not precisely sure, but I believe our hour of misery is coming to a close.” She was brushing off her skirt and fixing her bodice as Hetty herself was getting up off the ground. “You know, if you weren’t wearing as many skirts it would be far easier for you to get up off the ground.” 

“I will have you know I was very fashionable for my time. If I was dressed anything like you I would practically expect to be called the town harlot.” They had started their stroll back towards the house. “And there's nothing I can do about it now, I will have to wear these skirts for all eternity.” 

Approaching the house their smiles faded into stern glares, silence overtook them, and no one would be any wiser to the fact that they had any amount of pleasant conversation. That they knew anything about each other past the facts that others had told them. Parting their separate ways and ignoring the others' existence until the next afternoon rolled around. 

Pete stood awkwardly near where Hetty was sitting, she tried to take the same approach, if she just ignored him long enough he was bound to walk away, but he stayed for far longer than she was willing to wait out, and she knew there was no way to leave without confronting him. “Peter, is there a reason you are standing there?” She asked, not even looking over to him. 

“Well, I was just wondering,” He seemed to kick the question around like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to ask it or not. “Winifred has been here a little while now, and everyone thinks that she's fairly nice. You have spent quite a bit of time with her, and yet you seem to still hate her.” He almost sounded disappointed. 

“Peter, what you fail to understand is that I will always hate Winifred, she has wronged me in a way that I personally find unforgivable.” Hetty explained, though that had been growing farther and farther from the truth. She could forgive the statements made in her duress. 

“Unforgivable? Really? I mean I know you don’t see eye to eye, but is what really happened as far as unforgivable?” She was not going to fall for Pete’s tricks to try to get her to admit to forgiveness. 

“It does not matter what she did. Just that we are sworn enemies. And once you are sworn enemies, that never changes.” Because that was easier to say than admit her opinion on Winifred was changing. 

Pete seemed like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. Maybe it was just to quit while he was ahead, but Hetty was more than appreciative of it. 

Another sunny afternoon as they sat in the clearing. It had become almost routine for them to lounge in the sun. The only thing it was missing was tea sandwiches and pastry for it to be a nice afternoon party. 

“I understand that you enjoy the sun, but how could you enjoy the sun this much?” Hetty said as she watched Winifred lay back and take in as much as she could for who even knew what day in a row now. 

“I told you, I have not had a proper summer in far too long.” Winifred was propping herself up on her elbows. 

“How could you not have summer?” 

“I had summers, but it was so windy out where we lived,” Winifred said it like an embarrassed confession, “So you could not lounge like this. You could walk along the cliffside, but even in the summer you needed a shawl, even if the sun was warm, the wind would take all that warmth away.” It felt far too personal to hear about Winifred’s life before death. To hear about where she used to live. What it was like. It felt like she was invading her privacy. “What were summers like for you?” 

It was the first time Hetty could really think Winifred had asked her a question, but Hetty had started it. She had asked a question first. “Exactly like this,” Hetty gestured around them. “I lived practically my entire life here at Woodstone. So these are the majority of the summers I have known.” She looked over at Winifred who was watching her intently, “Though sometimes I swear that the summers are warmer now than I ever remembered them as a living. I would think if I was not dead I would find them more than dreadful.” Maybe it was too personal to admit it herself. 

“I had never gotten the impression that you were a spinster.” Winifred said with only a little bit of a bite, but a bite nonetheless.

Hetty was offended, and it read across her face, but not as offended as she could have been. “I was not a spinster, I was married, though the house was part of my dowry. So after the wedding I had no need to move. I even got married right here on property.” Even if she was offended she was far better at keeping her head held high, much better barking back rather than sinking her teeth in. This is why they were forced to spend time together, right? So they could learn how to hate each other less? 

“Do you miss your husband?” Winifred had asked it far too casually, she asked it like they were the type to talk of personal matters. It made no sense, and confused Hetty as to why she was asking it in the first place. 

It confused her enough to elicit an answer. “No, not in the slightest.” She had no regret nor remorse behind the words. She had understood the hatred she had for Elias Woodstone from the day they first were introduced. “Do you miss yours?” Hetty felt more than entitled to have the question answered back. 

Maybe that is when Winifred understood how personal of a question it was, when that look of panic drew itself across her face and Hetty watched her brows furrow and her shoulders tense. “I didn’t see my husband very often in life,” Winifred spoke softly, and the conversation had quickly become far more serious than maybe either of them ever intended any conversation to be. “Even when he was home he was… distant.” Winifred looked off into the distance, refusing to meet Hetty’s line of sight. “I don’t think there was anything ever to miss.” 

Winifred got off the grass almost mechanically, lost in thought as she looked off into the distance and started to wander arbitrarily. It was a struggle for Hetty to get up and catch up to her. She had no clue what was going through her mind, but the rest of their time was spent in silence, a new type of silence that Hetty was unsure she had experienced with anyone, let alone Winifred, it was the silence of Winifred being completely and utterly a ghost. The only description Hetty could use was ‘haunting.’ 

As they made their way back to the house, Winifred found herself standing next to the gramophone, hand securely holding onto it, like it was those first days of her at Woodstone and it was her only tether to reality. Other ghosts tried to speak to her but she seemed so focused on something else. Immediately every person would seek out Hetty and ask her what she had done to make Winifred like that, because it must have been her fault, she must have berated her or attacked her or done something of villainy to make her close to catatonic. Stuck to the gramophone, every hour or so starting that guilt-ridden song again like an anxious tick. Hetty must have caused that. And in some ways she did, she asked about her husband, but not with the intention of pushing Winifred into a state of haunting terror, she asked it because the same question was asked of her and she thought it was only fair to ask it back. 

Hetty could not get herself to explain that answer though, because that would require admitting to their casual, comfortable, personal conversations. It would mean saying that she had no intention in causing her harm. It would mean that she felt remorse for unintentionally causing her harm. So Hetty just denied that anything happened, that Winifred just started acting strange without reason, though no one believed her. Everyone said there must have been something that she had done to cause it. 

Alberta was far from the first person to corner her about it, “I understand that you hate the woman, but you have taken things too far.” she did not know how to express that she did not do anything to cause it, anything on purpose. 

“Why doesn’t anyone believe me when I say that I did not cause this?” Hetty was getting fed up with everyone having little talks with her about compassion and understanding. “We don’t even speak with one another, yet everyone is convinced that I have enacted some evil plot to cause her to become a catatonic nuisance.” 

“Because you despise the woman. Because you are itching to get her out of here. No one believes you because we know you are lying.” Alberta seemed at the end of her rope. Everyone did. But Hetty could not get herself to tell the truth about it. It was far too personal, and as much as she loved gossip, she had gained enough respect to know that wasn’t her story to tell. Even if she did reveal all of the truth, would they even believe her? 

“I have told my truth, and I refuse to take responsibility for something I had no hand in.” Hetty stood firm on her ground, and like everyone before, Alberta shook her head in defeat. She did not believe Hetty, she had just given up on her like the rest of them. 

Chapter Text

By the next afternoon Winifred acted as if nothing had happened. Like it was any normal afternoon where they strolled the property. But Hetty acted on edge, she had spent the last 24 hours being berated with questions and lectures and everyone's opinions on the ‘actions’ she had done against Winifred. It honestly pissed her off, because everyone seemed to care more about Winifred’s well being than they did Hetty’s. But like any other topic, she had no clue how to approach it. 

“I want to apologize for my reaction yesterday,” Winifred said as they made it to the far end of the lake. “I had truly not thought of my husband in so long I didn’t know it was a sensitive subject.” Her words were soft and sincere. A true genuine apology. 

“Everyone all evening was lecturing me on how my actions were rude and inconsiderate.” Hetty said as they came to a standstill, looking back at the house from across the water. 

“They thought you were rude and inconsiderate for asking me if I missed my husband after I asked you if you missed yours?” Winifred was looking at her in true curiosity. 

Hetty did not want to admit what had happened, but she had no option. She did not want to admit that she did something in Winifred’s favor. “It seemed like a sensitive subject, and I understand what it is like to have people berate you with questions about a less than favorable husband, and it seemed to already be causing you distress, and if I told them you became like that because we were discussing our husbands you would undeniably get more questions.” A smile slowly appeared across Winifred’s face. “And it would also require me admitting that we had had any amount of non-negative interaction, which at this point I will maintain out of pure spite of everyone else's treatment of me on the matter.” 

The smile stayed on Winifred’s face though, and that made Hetty feel a strange sense of satisfaction. Winifred was smiling because of her. “I have not existed in this century for very long, but if I have learned anything, so many people do not understand the value in properly discerning what should be gossip and what demands secrecy.” Hetty understood what it meant to keep secrets, she understood very well. “If there is any characteristic of yours I can find any amount of redeemability in, it is your respect of privacy regardless of your respect for someone.” 

“It would be very improper of a lady to gossip about such private matters.” Hetty smiled too. And the moment felt far more personal than it probably was. But it would be something that she would not be able to explain to the others, that her hatred for Winifred had grown into something very close to respect. 

“So you just let them think that you had caused me to become completely engulfed in my own thoughts?” Winifred asked as she began to stroll again, farther back on the property, to the clearing, a clearing that was becoming quickly synonymous with their sunny summer afternoons. 

“I told them I had nothing to do with it, but they refused to believe me.” Hetty was first to sit on the ground, looking up at Winifred as she took a moment to be illuminated by the sun. 

Winifred looked over, and Hetty quickly looked away, but they both knew she had been watching. 

Winifred made her way down into the grass, taking a moment to breathe in deep. It is what she always did. Like every day was her first time outside in years. “My husband was not a bad man,” She said, folding her hands in her lap, “just a distant one.” 

Hetty didn’t think she had any right to be hearing about Winifred’s husband, she had no right to hear about her life, “For my own sake, Winifred, if speaking about your husband is going to cause you to play that record over and over again, you can at least pay back my favor of secrecy by not causing everyone to blame me for your self inflicted torment.” It was a shift in language, ‘pay me back’ instead of, ‘get us even.’ 

Winifred rolled her eyes, “If you are not going to blab about my personal history or use it against me, I don’t see any reason to keep it a secret.” She said it like it was an obvious conclusion, “And maybe it would help to tell someone about it. Especially someone who I give no care to their opinion of me.” 

Hetty just nodded in return, though she thought it must be more than just that. That there must have been some other reason she was more than willing to speak on the matter. 

“My husband was a distant man.” Winifred said, her voice growing far more serious. “He was a sailor, even before we were married, he was a sailor, so I knew what I was signing up for. I knew he would be at sea more than he wasn’t.” As she spoke it seemed like she was realizing the can of worms that she was opening. “But I knew that sailors' wives would live in port cities, and I had grown up in a small village outside of London, and I wanted nothing more than that freedom of a metropolis. I thought marrying a sailor would give me that.” 

Hetty would not describe Winifred’s accent as entirely english, but it explained a lot about her understanding of the world, why she was so much well versed in english history compared to American. 

“Little did I know I was marrying the most solitary sailor known to man,” the thought seemed to fill her with sadness. “So instead of moving to a large port city, we moved out to a remote house, about half a day walk from the small port town he worked out of.” She looked off into the distance with that same look of haunting despair growing over her. Hetty reached out like an instinct of self preservation, and as she touched Winifred’s arm she seemed to snap out of the spiral, and Hetty silently pulled her hand away in response. “I was all alone out there for most of the year, about three months total he would be home, never more than a week at a time, and when he was home he wanted solitude. He promised me that someday we would move out to a lighthouse, and it just felt like I was being punished for wanting to get out of my small village.” Winifred was looking down in her lap, “I wanted freedom, I married him because I wanted freedom, and I was silly for wanting that, because I spent half my life locked away in a house waiting for a husband who did not care for my company.” Winifred seemed on the verge of tears as she spoke. 

“Could you not leave while he was away?” Hetty asked, and Winifred shook her head. 

“I asked, but he did not like the idea of the house being vacant. I think it is why he married me, so that I could sit watch over the house. So past my day trips into town where I would get whatever I could from the outside world, I just sat in that desolate house.” She said it like it was a point of shame. “And I should have seen it, that he married me just for my use to him, and I was fine with that as long as there was any amount of advantage to me. In fact I preferred it. All the advantages of marriage with no husband to speak for me. But no, I was a fool and let myself get locked away in the countryside.” She sniffled through the words. “I know, poor Winifred, begs her parents to let her marry an Englishman despite their concerns and dies miserable and alone.” She was wiping the blooming tears from her face. 

“You at least thought you were going to get some amount of freedom.” Hetty said in a desperate attempt to help Winifred feel less alone. “After I married my husband I knew that I would be doomed to live out my days here at Woodstone Manor.” Winifred listened intently and Hetty realized how personal what they were talking about was. “Though that was much sooner rather than later.” Hetty tried to make light of it, but it was anything but. 

“Was your husband at least a decent man?” Winifred asked, and Hetty regretted the truth. 

“No.” She said without hesitation. “He was one of the worst men I had ever known.” It was now Hetty who was avoiding eye contact, “And I do not say that lightly, he was truly awful. But that is all behind me, I have not had to deal with him in a while.” Hetty was trying to smile, and Winifred reached out to her in a similar comforting fashion that Hetty had, but Hetty flinched away. And Winifred retreated her hand. “The others know he was awful, but there are specifics that I choose to not bring up for obvious reasons. Even I knew back then the things he was doing were wrong, but I couldn’t do anything to stop him.” 

Winifred nodded, keeping her hands to herself this time. “It makes me feel like a fool for complaining about my isolation.” Winifred said with a light laugh, but Hetty just shook her head. 

“I don’t mean to make you think that you have no right to be hurt,” Hetty was reaching out to her again, and Winifred looked to where Hetty’s hand lightly grasped her arm, “I want you to know I understand, that is all. Some of the others don’t know why I put up with my husband, they don’t understand that I didn’t have a choice. That there is nothing I could do, nothing either of us could do. Would you have stayed all alone if you had a choice?” Winifred shook her head no, and Hetty pulled her hand away again, though Winifred held the part of her arm that Hetty had been holding onto. 

That afternoon was personal and vulnerable, in a way she was unsure she had been with anyone else. Maybe Winifred was right, it was easier to speak to each other because each did not care what the other thought of them. But as their hour came to a close, for the first time, for the first actual time, Hetty did not want it to be over. She wished that they had more time together than one measly hour. 

“I hope you understand I wish none of this to be repeated,” Winifred said as they walked back towards the house. 

“Once again, for me to gossip on your personal matters would include me admitting to us conversing in the first place.” Hetty said with an artificially annoyed tone. And Winifred smiled, though this time, the smile did not drop before they made it back to the house.

Chapter Text

Afternoons became far easier as they became more familiar, they became filled with giggles and stories and glances at each other. Like their own little world away from everyone else. Back at the house they still played the parts of hating one another, but even so they would glance at each other and roll their eyes. Even if they spoke of each other in disdain, the afternoon would roll around and they would be smiling at each other while frolicing in the clearing like they were carefree young women without a care in the world. 

Once they had found one thing to connect over, others quickly flooded in, and the statement that they could be friends rang truer and truer. It almost became a joke between them, the way everyone gingerly tiptoed around the topic of the other around them, like it would entice a violent incident. They would share and laugh and smile. Though no one knew. No one knew how they acted in that clearing where they would share stories from their lives, becoming more than intimate with many of the details. 

“So your son killed Alberta? And you did not tell her for 100 years?” Winifred asked as they spent another afternoon exchanging stories in the sun. 

“I would have never told her but I could not let her think her sister was the one who murdered her.” Hetty had become much more comfortable in Winifred’s presence, looking forward to sitting in the grass and seeing her be in wonderment over the natural beauty of the world. 

Winifred laid in the grass looking up at Hetty, her hat pulled off her head and laying on her chest, and her hair had more than a few loose curls that fell against the grass. It was a simple moment, simple enough that so many things could easily be forgotten. “You really are very thoughtful, Hetty. Coming clean about something after that long, just so that Alberta could have peace of mind.” 

Hetty laughed, she never thought that that was an example of her good will, “I almost got shunned from the house for three years for that.”

Winifred frowned. “Well why would they do that?” And Hetty couldn’t help but smile at her pout. 

It was far too close of a moment, something far too close to caring on both of their parts. Far too friendly as Hetty absentmindedly twisted one of Winifred’s dark loose curls that sat in the grass between her fingers. An action that was not necessarily common but not something foreign. It was a moment they had shared before. “Because I lied about something for a very long time, and it had put far too much strain on my friendships and the trust it had with everyone here at Woodstone. I was stubborn in admitting my wrongdoings and it almost cost me everything.” 

And all of a sudden it dawned on her, how she was lying again in the same way. When she originally hid the information from Alberta it was genuinely out of self preservation and embarrassment. But by the time she felt ready to fess up, far too much time had passed. And now she sat in the late summer afternoon, Winifred’s hair in her hands as she looked down at her, knowing full well that everyone back at the house thought they hated each other more than fire hated rain. And Hetty swiftly pulled her hands away from Winifred’s hair. “Is everything alright?” Winifred said sitting up, her hat falling to the ground and zipping back up to her head. The loose curls zipping up back into her pinned up hair. Practically a party trick that Winifred had become more than used to the way things seemed to fix themselves for ghosts, used that fact to her advantage whenever convenient, especially with her hat. 

“Everything is just fine.” Hetty was wiping her hands off on her dress, like she was trying to wipe away the feeling of Winifred’s hair between her fingers. Trying to remember why she hated the woman that sat next to her every afternoon in the lawn a little closer and a little friendlier every time. She tried to dig up that rage, that hatred, she tried to look at Winifred with that malice that she had once held synonymous with her name. And yet, she felt guilty that she couldn’t find that anger anymore. She could remember why she had once hated her, the insults and the degrading looks, the disregard for any authority Hetty may have had in life or death. But now she looked at Winifred and saw that wonder in her eyes, that soft look of sadness, that worry and that doubt that she wished she could explain away. “I just got carried away, is all.”

Winifred tried to say something, she tried to say multiple somethings, but she couldn’t seem to find the right words. And Hetty wondered if she understood. If she saw all the lies they were telling now. So it was quiet for a long time, as Winifred looked like she was looking for something, anything, to say. Hetty was ready to get up, to walk back to the house and conclude their court ordered hour for the day. But Winifred spoke before she could get that far. “I am sorry for calling you a maid.” She finally muttered out with far more shame than Hetty thought it warranted. “I was scared, and I didn’t know anyone, and you were the only one who I could really recognize when it came to how people were dressed, and I just needed to not be the smallest person in the room.” 

Hetty sat with it for a long time. She didn’t know how to respond, at this point in time she didn’t even think she needed an apology, she was happy to move on. She really didn’t know what had even prompted her to apologize in the first place. “In your defense I was acting like a petulant child.” Winifred looked at her as she spoke. Eyes wide and almost in shock. “What I did was not right. Not any of it. I know good and well that it is unjust to just demand respect. And I should have never attacked you. And the fact that I bit you was far too extreme. You did nothing to deserve that. It was… a poor decision. I am truly sorry Winifred, and I hope I can maybe earn your friendship.” Hetty was looking down in her lap now, a deep sigh coming from her. Rarely did she admit to her wrong doings. And she never enjoyed doing it. It never felt like a weight off her chest. It just felt like she was being weighed down more. 

Winifred reached towards Hetty's hands and she flinched away, looking up to Winifred and seeing that pleading look in her eyes. She was hesitant, but eventually she let her hands slip into Winifred’s. Winifred held her hands loosely, so that Hetty could easily pull her hands away if she was so inclined. And that made it easier. “I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot.” And that was an understatement. “I do not wish to let this fester for a hundred years. And I know my actions did not help.” Hetty was holding onto her hands with a little more of a grip. “I think I would much rather be on good terms than bad, I have not wanted to admit that I have come to enjoy our time together, but I have.” And Hetty held her hands a little tighter. “And I think it would be nice to put this petty hatred behind us.” Though they had barely been rivals in a long time. “Apology accepted.” 

That’s when the weight felt like it had been lifted from her shoulders. When she couldn’t stop the smile on her face. And she felt like a young lady again, full of youth and joy as they got on their feet and spun around until they were falling to the ground again in a giggly mess. Just like she had with her school friends that she had grown so fond of, just as she imagined Winifred had too. Not all the same entertainment luxuries back then existed so frolicing was an actual thing people did, when was the last time she had? 

“You know Winifred, in all my time as a living and a ghost I don’t know if I have ever met someone as perplexing as you.” Hetty said as they both now laid in the grass looking up to the clouds. 

“Am I perplexing?” 

“Exceedingly so.” Hetty thought it was obvious. “You are both endlessly anxious, though shockingly defiant. You are an open book with far too many secrets. You seem so indifferent yet are so wondered by the world.” Hetty meant none of it as an insult, she meant all of it in curiosity. 

“The world is a confusing place.” Winifred was turning on her side to look over at Hetty, “I spent my entire life waiting to start living, waiting to see the world, and then I spent so long in that house, just waiting for my husband to come home…” She trailed off as she spoke, getting lost in thought, and Hetty reached out her hand in a gesture of kindness. Winifred took it and began to speak again. “I was alone for a very long time, even when I went to town I was alone, whether I wanted to be or not I was a recluse.” She paused and took a deep breath. “And when I died there were always new people, and everything changed so fast, I would see one group of people for a few days, then I would disappear again. Then the next time I was around they would be different, I would be in a different place, but then a few days later, poof, I would be gone again.” Winifred grew quiet for a while. “So in a way, I am still alone. A stranger in a strange world, only here for a short time before I’m off to a new and horrifying place.”

Hetty did not let go of her hand. “You don’t have to be a stranger here, you don’t have to be alone anymore.” 

A group of ghosts were gathered around the table as Sam and Jay ate their late lunch. 

“So how are things going with Winifred? Are her and Hetty still getting into ghost fights?” Jay asked, completely oblivious to the groan it elicited from the crowd. 

“Do you all have to be standing there watching us eat?” Sam said, turning her head towards the ghosts. 

“You guys were the ones who decided to eat grilled cheese sandwiches,” Sass said like that was any type of reasoning. 

“How many ghosts are watching us eat?” Jay asked with his mouth full of food. 

“Basically everyone but Hetty and Winifred.” Sam said as she dipped her sandwich into her tomato soup. 

“Thor thinks that your soup choices are why Jay is having trouble lifting bags of potatoes.” Thor added, and Sam just nodded in acknowledgement. 

“Things with Winifred are going as well as they can be, I think.” Sam said to Jay, but that just elicited another groan.

“Most of the time, they refuse to be in the same room together, still, and it's been months, and they hate hearing about the other one, and it has just messed up the flow of everything.” Trevor was the first one to complain.

“It has completely messed up the television rotation, and the vibes are just off Sam.” Alberta was the next to pitch in. 

“I have to admit, it is still like walking on eggshells around them.” Isaac also added. 

“But I thought they weren’t fighting anymore, I thought they were silently civil and just avoiding each other.” Sam said, a bit saddened to hear things aren’t going as well as she thought they were. 

All of the ghosts looked at each other with tense faces. “They still hate each other, Sam,” Pete started to say. 

“Like, super hate each other.” Trevor added for emphasis.

“And the fact that they do not get along causes a lot of tension. Sure they aren’t fighting, but everyone can tell that they hate each other. So it feels like picking sides if you spend time with either of them. It feels like we all have to keep them separate, we can’t even mention the other around them.” Pete seemed like he was trying to break the news lightly. But all the Ghosts felt it, the strain of trying to be friendly with both of them, but still respecting the others distaste. It made it hard to be friends with either. “We know we can’t force them to be friends, but because they just struggle to even be in the same room, it’s hard to make either of them feel included or welcome.” 

All the ghosts nodded sadly as Sam leaned back in her seat. She really did think things were getting better. “The ghosts just told me that things haven’t gotten better.” She felt defeated. “And it’s affecting everyone, but I don’t want to force Winifred to leave, I felt like she was finally settling in here.” 

Jay took a moment to process the side of the conversation that he heard. “You can’t just get rid of the ghost I brought home,” That should not have been the part he was focused on, but it was. 

“Well if the ghost court ordered exposure therapy isn’t helping, I don’t know what to do, Jay. They are both very strong willed women.” Sam thought it over more, what it had been like over the summer. And it had been quiet, far too quiet. Ignorance was bliss and she took the quiet for things going well, but it was anything but that. 

“Well what have the ghosts done when the others have had problems?” Jay asked, and Sam just looked at the ghosts, who all looked at each other. 

“Well, we have done banishment before, but who do you really banish in this situation?” Pete didn’t like the idea of banishing either of them. 

“In the past we have always worked through it in time. Because we know we are all stuck here, together, forever.” Sass took the lead. “But Winifred isn’t, she can go somewhere else. So if removing her is our only option, then maybe that's what we have to do.” 

“But Winifred always lets me braid her hair.” Flower said with a pout. 

Everyone sat with the ramifications of that for a while, “You could try to find someone who would leave the record on, so it isn’t ghost murder, it's just ghost relocation.” Alberta tried to find a silver lining. 

“And if it is somewhere close, I can go check in on her to make sure she’s doing okay.” Pete added. And that’s when the other ghosts started to nod in agreement. 

Sam didn’t like the idea, but it might have been the best option. She turned back to Jay, “I think we're going to have to find a new home for the gramophone.” Sam said in regret. 

“But what about the ghost! Winifred!” Jay argued. 

“We just have to find someone who will let the record play, and Pete will go check in on Winifred from time to time to make sure she's okay and if something happens he can tell me so she doesn’t disappear.” Sam was trying to say it like it wasn’t a cruel thing to do. To kick a ghost out of the house just because she had the ability to be relocated. “It’s for the best, Jay.” 

He nodded in response, he didn’t like it, but he could understand. 

Just as they were coming to terms with the heavy decision they were making, Hetty and Winifred walked into the house, continuing the conversation that had been started about some of the flowers they had seen on their stroll back, not nearly as friendly as they had been in the privacy of the clearing, but more friendly than anyone had ever seen them. Everyone watched in shock as they spoke so calmly, so pleasantly, just that morning they had refused to sit in a room together. 

When they noticed everyone in the kitchen they quickly brought their conversation to a halt. “Winifred and I have exciting news.” Hetty said with a smile plastered wide across her face. 

Everyone stared trying to keep their mouths from hanging open. “Hetty and I have worked through our disagreements and are no longer enemies.” Winifred said it like it was a joyous announcement, “Now what was that television program you were telling me about earlier?” Winifred said, turning her attention back to Hetty. 

“Oh, yes!” Hetty said with excitement, “Samantha, could you turn on Bodices and Barons for us, it dawned upon me that Winifred has not seen it, and I really think that she would appreciate it.” 

Everyone, but Jay, looked at them in shock. “If I didn’t know you could see ghosts, I would say you look like you’ve seen a ghost, what's going on?” Jay asked as Sam tried to process the near incomprehensible sight before her, Hetty and Winifred, standing side by side, looking forward to doing something together. 

“Hetty and Winifred are friends now,” She relayed to Jay, “and I am going to go turn on the TV for them. Because they want to watch TV. At the same time.” 

Chapter Text

Hetty and Winifred were no where close to best friends, but they did chit chat, watch TV at the same time, go for their afternoon strolls. Though everyone told them that they didn’t have to do it anymore they elected to spend their afternoons in each others company, laying in the grass and exchanging stories, getting as much as they could out of the last little bits of summer. It was still easier for them to talk tucked away from everyone else, because they both knew that the others found it strange that they were ‘all of a sudden’ on good terms. But to them it had been a long time coming. It had been a slow uphill climb that neither of them really realized they were doing until they were cresting the ridge. 

That particular afternoon was dragging on far longer than either of them had planned, but by mid-august they would only have so many nice days left, so every afternoon had been getting longer, an hour dragged into two, dragged into four, but today Winifred didn’t want to go back to the house, so they were watching the sunset from the far end of the lake, golden colors reflecting off the water. Their shoulders pressed against one anothers as they sat on the bench and watched the sun slowly descend beyond the horizon. Winifred sighed mournfully as the sky burned orange, causing Hetty to look at her in concern. 

“Is everything alright?” She asked, reaching for Winifreds hand, letting their fingers intertwine, a gesture of comfort and understanding between them. 

Winifred squeezed her hand, nodding her head. “Summer is almost over, I don’t think I am ready to be cold again.” She said it with such sadness, it nearly broke Hetty’s heart. 

“Winter is only a few months, it’ll be spring before you know it.” Hetty was trying to comfort her. Even if they were friendly around the others, they still didn’t know, they still didn’t know how much they had come to care about each other. “And Samantha keeps the house very warm throughout the winter, I assure you, you will not be cold.” 

The sky was growing deeper and deeper as the sun sunk out of view, reds and burgundies, and purples streaking above them. “I have never been around this time of year before,” Winifred’s voice sounded hollow as she spoke, that haunted look taking over her face again, and Hetty squeezed her hand as a reminder that she was not alone. Winifred took a deep breath, “Today has just been a lot harder for me than I thought it would be.” 

“Why is today so hard?” Hetty was genuinely worried about her, she had never seen Winifred that withdrawn, not without an inciting incident. 

“It is August tenth,” Winifred said with a pained laugh, “August tenth is the day I died.” 

All of a sudden it was all the more serious. Hetty squeezed her hand, she understood, she remembered that first year and sitting silently just waiting for it to be over, just waiting for it to not be that awful day anymore. Winifred had taken off her hat and was leaning her head on Hetty’s shoulder. Sniffling back tears. 

“It was supposed to be the best day of my life,” She said, holding onto Hetty’s arm a bit more securely. “I was going to leave. I knew I couldn’t do another winter alone in that house. I had written my husband a letter, another one I had prepared to post to my parents, I had secured transport to Dover, and I was going to go to Paris. I was going to change my name, sell my hair, find a new husband, hopefully someone foreign, I was going to start a new life. I had already spent nineteen years alone in that house with only my trips to the village to keep me sane. I knew another winter would kill me, so I was going to leave.” Winifred was really sniffling at this point, and Hetty tried her best to calm her. “Even if it was remote, Barnaby made sure I was comfortable with modern amenities, the more things I had to keep me busy the less I would bother him. Yet he never thought to let me live in town when he was away… My gramophone was my saving grace so many winters, I loved getting as many new disks for it as I could. Barnaby would bring me American music when he would port in New York… I played those disks until they fell apart.” She paused for a moment to compose herself. Hetty tried to soothe her, and not make some sort of comment about how she could possibly marry someone with the name ‘Barnaby’, but Winifred continued.  “But I couldn’t do another winter. I just couldn’t, I could feel the wind get colder and I knew I had to leave. So I packed a bag and wrote a note, got myself all dressed in my finest walking suit for the journey to town where I was going to take a carriage to Dover, but when I opened the door to leave I looked back at the gramophone, my only friend for so many winters, I walked back inside to put my hand on it to say goodbye, and then I left. Or I tried to leave. When I got to the door I just, bounced back. I thought I must have been ill, my bag was just right outside the door and yet I could not grasp it. I thought I needed to sit down for a moment but when I turned around I saw myself on the ground. I didn’t even remember falling. Just one moment I was alive and the next I wasn’t.” 

There was a long pause after that, and Hetty thought it was the end, but then she continued. 

“That winter was hard, maybe the hardest one I have ever known, Barnaby was gone through the entirety of it, and I was stuck in that house watching myself decay. And I only had the disk that I had left on the gramophone to play. And I played it until it degraded to what it is now. No one came. No one ever came. Until he came home in February, he was supposed to be back in October but a sailor's life could change in an instant. I never knew if he was stranded or just took on more work. Animals had already gotten to my body, and not long after he got home he took the disk off the gramophone. Two days later I learned I needed it to survive.” She sounded completely ragged by the time she got to the end of it. Like she was just trying to get it all out no matter how much it hurt. 

It was a heart wrenching story, it was awful, Hetty had let her other hand wrap over Winifred’s, an extra layer of comfort and understanding. “But you can leave the house here, why were you confined indoors there?” Maybe Hetty was asking the wrong questions, but it just seemed far too cruel for someone to be forced to watch their own corpse decay. 

“He didn’t own the land, he only owned the house.” Winifred said, and Hetty just nodded, as they sat there for a while, watching the sky grow darker and darker. “Speaking of, we should probably get back to the house before it gets too dark.” Winifred was separating herself from Hetty, but Hetty couldn’t help but reach out. 

“Winifred,” She said, stopping her from getting up yet. “I promise you that this winter you will not be alone.” Hetty meant it with every part of her being. “As your friend, I will never let you be alone like that again.” 

There was a smile on Winifred’s face as she nodded. It was still deeply sad, but it was a smile that let Hetty know she believed her. That she trusted Hetty enough to tell her it was her death day, to come to her for the worries she was having. Winifred was plenty friendly with other ghosts in the house, she was naturally social, but there was a difference. Between the way Winifred was social with the others and the way she held onto Hetty’s arm, admitting her darkest secrets. It had started because she did not care what Hetty thought of her, she put no weight on her words, but now Winifred was vulnerable with her because she knew Hetty would not judge her. She told her because she knew Hetty understood. 

As they walked back towards the house Winifred slowly drifted further and further away, humming a song that Hetty did not know but felt like she had heard before, but she did not dare ask what it was. 

They went their separate ways as they entered the house, confirming the plan to go on an afternoon stroll together the next day, as other ghosts seemed to try to make it seem like they weren’t staring but they completely were. 

“I don’t understand why everyone seems so shocked that we are on speaking terms now, isn’t that what you all wanted?” Hetty asked Isaac as other ghosts slowly dispersed out of the room. 

“Yes but you have to understand Hetty, in the course of a singular afternoon you two went from absolute hatred to polite exchanges, I mean you two are willingly spending time together, willingly spending a lot of time together, I think everyone just finds it jarring.” Isaac told her, “What happened? I mean, I am glad you two put aside your differences, but what made that happen?” 

Hetty did not know how she wanted to approach the conversation, “We just realized that we were not as different as we thought.” She thought it was unfair to share too much about her and Winifred’s time together, it felt far too personal. “And once we realized that, we realized our petty rivalry made no sense, so we agreed to forgive and forget.” She said it with a smile but Isaac still looked at her in disbelief. 

“It had to be more than that,” Isaac said, but Hetty just shook her head. “What even was it that made you realize you were not as different as you thought?” 

For them it had been a slow process, but it needed to be in a snap instant. “I corrected her on what year I died after one of her pathetic insults.” It was more lies spun on the spot, “She remembered the year, and before long we got to talking, and we both realized that we were far more similar than we were different.” Though she didn’t feel bad about the lying, because at the heart of it, it had truth. They had far more similarities than they had differences, and they had accidentally built a trust between them. 

Isaac nodded along, “So you just had an, ‘aha’ moment of realizing you two were similar?” He asked, maybe a little bit more accusing than he meant, but Hetty immediately became defensive. 

“I really don’t know what the big deal is, one day you want us to get along, the next you are questioning me on why we are doing the thing you wanted us to do?” Hetty crossed her arms in slight frustration. 

Isaac held his hands up in surrender. “Please, by all means, continue being friendly, I don’t think anyone is complaining about it, I think we are all just, a little surprised is all.” Hetty softened her expression. “Really you two are very similar, I thought that’s why you two didn’t get along, was because it was just too close but not close enough.”

“We didn’t get along because she called me a housekeeper.” Hetty corrected. 

“Didn’t you bite her because of that?” Isaac was trying to prove a point. 

It was far from Hetty’s proudest moment. “Yes, but we have both apologized for our actions and have discovered we are far better off as friends.” 

“Oh, so you are friends now?” Isaac teased. 

“Is there something wrong with us being friends?” Hetty asked genuinely. 

“No, of course not, I just didn’t think you would be so quick to admit it.” A smug look across his face. 

Hetty rolled her eyes. He didn’t know, he didn’t really know, and something about that ate away at her. Made that guilt settle in her stomach. “Well we are friends.” She said matter of factly. 

“I think that is far better than you two being enemies.” He said with a smirk, and Hetty knew she was only digging her own grave if she chose to keep speaking, so she left at that, she let the conversation fizzle out until they were sitting in silence, though they were not sitting in silence long, this was Woodstone afterall, it was not long before another point of excitement was happening. 

Chapter Text

As September rolled in the wind slowly got colder and as they went for strolls Hetty watched as Winifreds face got more and more sullen. The way fear filled her eyes and the way she grabbed for Hetty’s hand as some sort of reassurance that this winter would not be like the last ones. Hetty would still normally flinch, but would let Winifred hold onto her hand or her arm or whatever she needed to keep herself from going down that spiral that terrified Hetty. She hated to just see the spark disappear from behind her eyes. To hear her anxiously hum the same tune over and over again when Winifred thought no one was looking or listening. 

“You won’t be alone through the winter,” Hetty said, and Winifred just nodded. “You are going to be utterly sick of me by the time spring rolls around again.” 

Winifred just laughed, “I don’t know if I could get tired of you.” 

They walked the property more and more. Winifred could only stay inside for so long before she got anxious and started pacing. Hetty would see it start to begin, probably before anyone else, and say that she wanted to go for a stroll and would appreciate it if Winifred would join her, and Winifred would just smile and follow Hetty outside. Every time the other ghosts would watch them leave like they had just entered the twilight zone. 

“Do they ever freak you out?” Trevor asked Pete one day as the four of them had just started a Back to the Future marathon but Hetty and Winifred’s sudden need for a stroll had left just the two of them. 

“Why would they freak me out? They are getting along now, that’s good, right?” Pete said as he leaned over to the side table where a bowl of popcorn had been left, but had gone completely cold, and Pete was just trying to really get in there and get whatever good sniffs there were left. 

Trevor just raised an eyebrow as Pete was full face in the bowl, the arrow occasionally clipping the rim. “I think they’re getting along too well. I think they caught on, think about it Pete, one day they’re enemies, then all of a sudden they are best friends who want to spend time together? I think they are playing us. I think they are planning something.” As Trevor spoke Pete shot up from the popcorn bowl.

“What could they even be planning?” he asked with a confused look. 

Trevor shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, but think about it, women only become that close that fast if they are sorority sisters or if they have the same axe to grind, and I don’t think either of them were suffragettes.” 

Pete just looked confused. 

Trevor grabbed Pete by the shoulders and slightly shook him, “I think they are plotting something Pete! I don’t know what, but I think they are working together to get payback on everyone for forcing them to spend time together!” 

Then it all clicked in his brain. “Oh no, it was my idea to rig the ghost court, do you think they are going to try to get extra revenge on me?” 

Trevor did not want to say yes, but he definitely thought yes. “Hey look, it's Crispin Glover, have you ever seen Charlie’s Angels? I think we should watch Charlie’s Angels next.” He had not seen it when it came out, died a little too soon, but who would forget Cameron Diaz, Drew Barrymore, and Lucy Liu on the speedboat from that trailer. 

The mention of Glover had Pete looking at the screen, “I have seen Charlie’s Angels, every Wednesday at 10 pm. I saw every episode until Farrah Fawcett left.” But even as he spoke Pete felt a chill down his spine. Hetty and Winifred were planning on ghost torturing him. 

Hetty and Winifred were not plotting any sort of revenge against anyone. The thought had not even crossed their minds. They were strolling the grounds, as far as they could, “How do you always know when it feels like the walls are closing in on me?” Winifred asked as they rounded a corner. 

Hetty was looking over at her, she wondered if the light blush had always been in her cheeks. It must have, ghosts didn’t have any blood to blush in the first place. “I don’t like to see you distressed.” Hetty had spent far too much time looking to her right, she did not notice the unevenness in the path and quickly was tumbling to the ground. 

“Are you alright?” Winifred was standing over her, a distressed look on her face. 

It took her a moment to get her bearings, but soon Hetty was sitting up, “I am quite alright.” 

Winifred was coming down to her level, “Are you sure?” her voice soft and sincere, taking Hetty’s hands into her own. The moment was quiet, “If you are not, that's alright, we can take a moment here.” 

Hetty looked around, “The clearing is not far, do you think you can help me there?” 

Winifred smiled, and for what might have been the first time, offered Hetty her arm and helped her up. Soon they were to the clearing and sitting on the ground, though with fall quickly setting in it was not the same warm escape it had been all summer, the ground had an inherent cold that they both has to position their skirts just right to keep from being too strong. 

“Are you hurt at all?” Winifred asked in maybe a more concerned voice than Hetty had ever heard from her. 

Hetty smiled. “No, just, the tumble, the corsets, sometimes they leave you a little shaken. I just need a moment to recuperate.” 

“Do you need me to help loosen your corset?” Winifred asked in all sincerity, but now Hetty really wished that it was impossible for ghosts to blush, because she worried her cheeks could have been used to paint fire trucks. 

“Oh no, really, I am all right, I just need a moment,” Hetty said with a smile. 

Winifred nodded, getting herself more comfortable where she was seated, “Is there anything at all I can do?” She asked. 

“Why are you so set on helping me? It was just a small tumble, I swear I am fine.” Hetty said, trying to brush it off. 

Winifred was quiet for a moment, “Hetty, in the past month or so you have been so doting on me, truly, and you have been so helpful in a time that I did not know was going to be so difficult, I don’t know what i would be doing without you. And if we were still on bad terms, well… I don’t know what I would have done. I might have driven everyone in the house mad with that degrading record. And, I just want to thank you, be there for you in the way you have been there for me. Even if that just means that I am making sure you are okay after a fall.” Winifreds hands were intertwined with Hetty’s, sitting side to side, Hetty knew she meant the words, but didn’t know what to say in response. 

“The fall was really nothing, I was distracted, not looking ahead of me and not thinking about the steps I was taking.” Hetty was looking down at their hands, held onto each other in a way that just felt so natural. “And what kind of friend would I be if you confided in me your worries with the winter and being alone, and I know that feeling, of everything being out of your control and there being nothing you can do. It’s an awful feeling. Especially when it comes back to haunt you, that might be even worse, so of course I am going to do everything in my power to keep you from feeling that helplessness again.” 

It was quiet for a long moment. “Thank you Hetty,” They were sitting close, talking in quiet voices, even if they had no need to. They had an entire clearing and yet there they were, side by side. “What was so distracting to make you lose your footing?” Winifred asked like it was supposed to lighten the mood but to Hetty it did anything but. 

She could not admit that she was looking at Winifred and that caused her to tumble, even if it was out of innocent concern, that would seem overly concerned. Hetty looked up at her for a moment, but felt like a deer in the headlights, and had to look down at their hands again. “Oh nothing, just a bird I think, I really didn’t get that good of a look before I was on the ground.” Hetty was trying to move on as fast as she could, hoping the subject would change. 

“Hetty?” Winifred said it soft and kind and sentimental. Hetty could not help herself but look up at Winifred.

“Yes?” She answered, though it was so soft she was not sure if she heard it. 

“Has anyone ever told you how handsome of a woman you are?” Winifred said with that same sincerity. 

Hetty was trying her best not to smile too much, it made her feel close to giddy, more and more often she felt like that around Winifred, “Not in a very long time.” She said and watched as the smile bloomed on Winifred’s face as well. 

“Well-” Winifred started to speak, but she was quickly cut off by a few raindrops falling from the sky, “oh dear,” Then there was more and more and more, “We cannot stay out here.” She said quickly getting up and giving Hetty a hand, though this time, Hetty did not let go. And as Winifred began to run back towards the house Hetty ran by her side, hands clasped in one anothers all the way back until they were inside again and splayed across the couches like it was a fainting room trying to catch their breath.

“Ah, rain, one of Thor’s oldest enemy’s.” Was the first thing both of them heard. The next was one of Thor’s many stories about the rain. And then a second. And then a third. 

That night Hetty could not get to sleep. She just kept thinking back to the clearing, Winifred’s hands in hers, her smile, her eyes, how many times had Winfred caught Hetty gazing at her for just a little too long? Her mind jumped back and forth and she couldn’t understand the feeling in her chest, the way she felt near scandalized when Winifred asked if she needed her corset loosened, a perfectly normal thing to ask. They were not easy to do on one’s own. But the thought of her loosening it, she didn’t know why it made her feel close to exposed. 

It got to the point where she could not lay in bed anymore, she was lightly pacing the halls, trying to keep the noise down. But the softness of her voice, the way her hands gently helped her, it swirled in her mind. She wondered if this was what caused Winifred to pace, thoughts in her head that she didn’t know where they came from. At one point she found herself in a guest room hoping the snoring would cover up the sound of her pacing, as she walked around the room trying to tire herself to sleep she would gaze out the window as she passed it. And as she did she saw a figure in the moonlight, dress lightly flowing in the wind, a hat and sleeves distincting exactly who it was. 

Hetty could not imagine why Winifred would be out at this hour. Though, the same could be said for her. It was not long before she was making her way down the stairs and outside, following her. She was walking briskly to catch up, she could hear Winifred humming in the distance, and when she finally did, Winifred seemed startled. 

“Hetty, You’re awake.” She said like she never considered the possibility.

“And you are walking all alone at night.” Hetty did not want to give her reason for being awake. 

There was a small roll to Winifred’s eyes, but not out of malice. “What? Are you worried about me?”

 “Just curious,” 

Winifred smiled, “Here,” She said, offering Hetty her hand, “Follow me.” 

Hetty took her hand and let Winifred lead her through the dark. All these years and she still did not spend very much time outside the house at night, and it almost surprised her that Winifred seemed to know her way around so well. Hetty was trying her best to keep up. “How often are you out here at night?” 

“Not often,” Winifred said as they made their way to the far end of the lake, “Only when I can’t sleep.” They were both sitting down on the bench. “The only thing that was nice about living so far from town was the stars. I would walk along the cliffside at night and just look at the stars. Somehow it made me feel less alone. You would think something as vast as the cosmos would make me feel small and alone, but I was just filled with such awe, such inspiration, it distracted me from all the other feelings.” Hetty looked at her as she spoke, seeing that awe in real time. “Isn’t it just beautiful?” 

Hetty glanced over at the stars, she did think they were pretty, but then she looked back to Winifred, and she would rather be looking in that direction. “Absolutely breathtaking.” She said as she watched Winifred’s eyes sparkle with wonder in the moonlight. 

Winifred looked over at her, and Hetty didn’t look away fast enough, but when did she ever look away fast enough. “You’re not even looking at the stars,” Winifred said with a tilt to her head, letting the moonlight cascade over her face. 

It was funny for Hetty to think that this woman used to be the worst part of her day, now she would rather look at her than at the miracle that was the twinkling heavens. Hetty could look at the stars any old night, but to see that twinkle and wonder in Winifred’s eyes felt like the real special occasion. It was funny that she used to not see that. It was funny that Hetty wanted to be close to her, she rarely wanted to be close to anyone. It was funny that she would so easily let Winifreds hand fall into hers, especially since she used to not be able to even look at the woman. It was funny that she would follow her into the dark cover of the night, especially when it used to take convincing on Sam’s part for her to spend time with Winifred. So much of it was funny to look back on, or at least Hetty thought it was funny, because it all left a funny feeling in her stomach. A strange feeling that she did not know precisely how to describe but she had felt it slowly taking over more and more of her chest until she felt warm and fuzzy even through the cold gusts of wind of late September. She did not have the same fear of the cold as Winifred, but she knew if Winifred was near that she would be warm until spring. She wondered if Winifred felt that same warmth. Though the air was still cold and gusts came through, they sat huddled against one another on the bench, and Hetty saw the soft moonlight fall across Winifreds face and Hetty would swear she felt her heart beat in her chest, she was caught up in the beauty, in the moment, in the feeling, and she wasn’t thinking. She wasn’t thinking as she leaned in and pressed her lips against Winifred’s, she was caught up in the feeling, she was caught up in the feeling and she wasn’t thinking and her heart felt like it was beating and as soon as she fully processed what she was doing she was pulling away. Pulling away and dropping Winifred’s hands. “I don’t know why I did that.” Hetty said as she scooted a little farther away and looked out over the lake. “My apologies Winifred, that was most inappropriate of me.” Was all she could get herself to say.

It was quiet for a moment. “I have never been kissed by a woman before.” Winifred said and Hetty just felt a wave of embarrassed dread wash over her. Another bout of silence between them. “Have you ever been kissed by a woman?” Winifred finally added. 

“No.” Hetty said, hollow and embarrassed. 

“Would you like to be kissed by one?” Winifred asked, and Hetty did not know how to answer.

“I don’t know,” Hetty felt like she was on the verge of tears. She felt embarrassed, she felt humiliated, she felt exposed, “It would depend on the woman.” She said it like a dirty confession. Like a point of shame.

Winifred was slowly sliding her hand into Hetty’s again, a soft squeeze, a reassurance that she was there, that she wasn’t going anywhere. “Would you like to be kissed by me?” Winifred asked, and Hetty whipped her head around to look at her. 

Moonlight still shining over her face, a soft smile, that twinkle in her eyes. Hetty couldn’t keep the words from falling out of her mouth, “Yes.” Hetty said it without hesitation. 

Winifred leaned in slowly as she kissed Hetty, slow and careful, both of them unsure how to approach, but they figured it out, or at least figured out something that worked. Even if it was anxious and imperfect it was far sweeter than any kiss Hetty could recall in her mind. Lips far softer than she could recall. Hands far gentler than she could recall. She enjoyed it far more than she ever remembered kissing anyone. She enjoyed it so much she was sad when Winifred pulled away. Though their hands stayed held in each others. “Did you enjoy that?” Winifred asked, still staying close. 

Hetty slowly nodded her head as the realization became harder and harder to ignore, she did enjoy it. She enjoyed it greatly. It made her wonder if any other kiss in her life really counted, because none of them felt like that. “I did,” She said hesitantly, “Did you enjoy it?” 

“Greatly.” And Winifred said it so simply, she was also worried, though her and Hetty were on the same page now. They had both enjoyed their embrace and neither knew what to do next.

It was a long bout of silence before Hetty finally broke it, “Would you like to be kissed by a woman again?” An awkward bulky sentence that she barely knew if it sounded right. 

“Greatly.” Again said so simply, but Hetty took it as her queue to lean in again, to try again, to let their lips meet and find what it meant to kiss someone, to really kiss someone, to kiss someone who you wanted to kiss and wanted to be kissed by you. 

And Winifred did find it a little bit funny, because she would never admit it, but even that first time she met Hetty, when she was at the top of the stairs screaming for Winifreds misdoings, she remembered looking up at her and thinking there was a beauty to her that she could at least appreciate. And she had come to appreciate that beauty very much.  

Chapter Text

The next few days Hetty and Winifred did not go on strolls together, not for lack of want, but it rained more and more. So they did not have the privacy to debrief on their late night star gazing. They did not talk to each other much at that time, and they both watched as everyone else got more on edge. And Hetty did not know how to explain that they were not on bad terms. 

“I just don’t know why everyone is so invested in the frequency of conversation between Winifred and I.” Hetty said as she watched the rain through the window, as Isaac and Alberta sat on the couch, they were currently making their way through ‘Peaky Blinders.’

Isaac and Alberta glanced at each other, silently arguing over who would have to talk first through facial expressions. Isaac did not stand a chance. 

“I think everyone is still on edge from the fact that first you attacked her, and then you acted like it never happened, and now, well now I have no idea.” Isaac bit the bullet and put the flashing sign next to the elephant in the room. 

Hetty looked over at them, “And why does any of that matter?” She asked, though neither of them wanted to reply. 

This time it was Alberta's turn. “One day you’re enemies, then all of a sudden you’re friends, and now, well, now you won’t talk to each other again,” Trevor’s theory had gone between the ghosts like wildfire. Everyone thought this was the calm before the storm, this was the last true piece of calm before whatever nonexistent plot Hetty and Winifred had cooked up was going to be released. 

“I would talk to her if I had anything to say to her.” Hetty said, finally leaving her spot by the window. Three days watching it like a kettle that was doomed to never boil. 

Isaac and Alberta exchanged another look as the next episode auto-played, and everyone hushed down as it began, but Hetty could not get herself to focus on it. All she could think about was what had happened, what happens now. 

She looked over to Isaac and Alberta as they watched the show, and wondered what their response would be if they knew the truth about what was going on between her and Winifred. If they knew the way they walked arm in arm, hand in hand, the way Hetty would play with her hair, the way Winifred would reach to her for comfort, the way they would look at each other for maybe a little too long at times, the way they laughed in the sun and felt like young women who had nothing better to do then giggle and frolic and didn’t have the pasts that they did. That they were still young and innocent and the world had not hurt them yet. She wondered what their response would be if she told them she had kissed Winifred, and that Winifred had kissed her, and then they had kissed each other out of curiosity and desire. She wondered what they would think if they knew that Hetty deeply yearned to kiss her again. 

She knew the fact they were both women would not be an issue, or at least if it was it made everyone hypocrites. It was more the fact that she had never considered the matter. She knew it was something in existence, she was completely fine with it, but all she could do was look at Isaac, think about the fact that he said some part of him always knew, she thought of others in the house who over time came to terms with their sexualities and reflected back on their lives and said that they should have figured it out sooner given the circumstances, but for Hetty she had not even considered it until Winifred asked her if she wanted to be kissed by her. She wondered what the others would think if she confided that the thought had never crossed her mind until their lips were already locked. She wondered if they would laugh. She would have. 

Winifred appeared in the door of the television room, seeming impatient. “Hetty, would you like to join me for a stroll?” She asked in a rushed manner. 

“I would, but it is currently raining outside.” Hetty said, as she could feel Isaac and Albertas eyes burrowing into her. 

“It actually just stopped and I spoke to Samantha and she told me that it is going to be clear for the rest of the afternoon. Perhaps even the evening.” As the words came out of her mouth Hetty was on her feet. 

“My apologies for leaving before the episode is over, but I have a stroll to get to.” Hetty said as they both swiftly left the room. 

Alberta and Isaac sat in mildly terrified silence. “What are they planning?” Alberta asked with some genuine fear. 

“How should I know, any time I have tried to ask, Hetty finds a way to change the subject before I can.” Isaac said, though he could think of some ways they might be plotting revenge. 

“But they are planning something because we forced them to spend time together?” Alberta asked. 

Isaac wanted to believe the best in Hetty, but she did bite a woman for turning off the TV by accident. “I don’t know, but for now, I think it is best we prepare for the worst.”

As soon as Hetty and Winifred were out of view of the house, they were grabbing for each other’s hand, both letting out a sigh of relief when they both squeezed each other’s hand. Silently walking back towards the clearing, now a muddy mess, but one of the benefits of being a ghost is you didn’t have to worry about sinking into the mud. 

“Hetty, I wanted to talk to you about the other night,” Winifred said as they came to a stop, and Hetty should have respected it, she should have responded in a more respectful manner, but instead was leaning in and kissing her again. Satiating that yearning desire. 

The kiss was not exorbitantly long, and soon Hetty was pulling away, “My apologies again, I don’t know what came over me,” Hetty said it with a nervous laugh. “You wanted to talk about the other night?” 

“We can do this instead.” Winifred said, and the words didn’t entirely process in Hetty’s mind, she didn’t know what she meant by it, and even once their lips were locked again it took Hetty a few moments to catch up and figure out that this was the ‘instead.’ The soft, though timid, kisses as they tried once again to navigate what it meant to kiss like this. 

Winifred guided Hetty’s hands to her waist, hoping it would be more comfortable than them holding hands between each other, but during that Hetty slightly pulled away. “Is it alright for my hands to be here?” 

Winifred smiled and left a kiss on her cheek as she let her arms rest on Hetty’s shoulders. “Seventeen years really makes a world of difference in modesty,” Winifred joked as she tucked a piece of hair behind Hetty’s ear. 

Hetty tried her best to let her hands settle, but it seemed like she couldn’t find a spot that was not too close to her chest or her hips. Hetty felt like a complete fish out of water. “I have never done any of this before, I don’t know how I am supposed to do any of it.” It was a side of Hetty that people rarely saw, the side that admitted that she was scared, or nervous, or didn’t know what to do. 

“I’ve never done this before either,” Winifred said like a bittersweet solace. “In fact, I am completely terrified.” Though she said it with a smile that could fool Hetty easily. 

They stood there for a while, and very quickly reality set in. Where they were, what they were doing, what they were saying to each other. “Should we be doing this?” Hetty asked even if it felt like a poisonous thought to put out into the world. 

Winifred was quiet for a long moment, a painfully sorrowful look on her face, “Do you not want to?” 

Hetty let one of her hands find Winifreds cheek, looking up at her slightly, “I do but…” Hetty did hesitate. Just like Winifred she was also terrified. “I don’t know how.”

A sad smile as Winifred put one of her hands over Hetty’s. “We can figure it out. You are a very clever lady.” 

That caused Hetty to smile, smile and look down between them. “You have been flattering me quite a lot lately,” Hetty was not used to compliments, praise, yes. She was used to standing tall and listening to people sing her praises. But the soft gentle words of genuine compliments always made her falter. 

Then Hetty felt a gentle hand at her chin, lightly lifting her face so that she was looking at Winifred. “I am only commenting on what I see before me.” Hetty leaned in again to kiss her. Still awkward, but they stumbled through it. They were trying, even if they both were terrified, even if they both did not know what to do. They would stop and ask, ‘are you okay, is this okay, do you know what we are supposed to do?’ and they stumbled through. 

Eventually they sat on the ground, and they sat close together, leaning against one another. “Your hat is going to be the death of me.” Hetty said as she leaned against Winifred’s shoulder. 

“You were jealous of my hat all summer.” Winifred said lightly teasing. 

“Yes, but at no point during the summer was I trying to kiss you.” She said leaving one on her cheek. 

The sky was growing dark, and the stars could be seen through windows in the clouds, and this time Hetty actually looked up to them as she sat leaned against Winifred and their hands wrapped around one another's. And the chill was even more evident now, as they both sat in hopes of getting the others non-existent warmth. Part of Hetty almost felt sad as she held onto Winifred, and she couldn’t exactly figure out why. Why would she be sad that she finally met someone who she felt like she might finally understand what people meant when they said they had a crush? Though maybe this was already past that.

All of the ghosts, except for Hetty and Winifred, gathered in the living room with Sam and Jay. 

“So you think they are planning something?” Sam asked as she looked around to everyone. 

“My theory is that they are pretending to get along as they plan revenge against us for rigging the ghost court against them.” Trevor explained. 

“And you all believe this?” Sam asked, and all of the ghosts nodded their heads in response. 

“Sam, it was my idea to rig the ghost court, and I’m afraid that I am going to get the worst of whatever they’re planning.” Pete said with almost a squeak to his voice. 

“Other people agreed to the punishment. And they are friends now, they spend time together voluntarily. Why would they pretend to be friends if they still hate each other?” Sam thought it was all far fetched. 

“Oh I know why,” Flower added, like it was obvious. Everyone turned and looked at her, “To mess with our heads.” 

“They wouldn’t do that,” Sam tried to deny. 

“You are really going to say that Hetty or Winifred wouldn’t try to convince us that they are friends when they hate each other, just so that they could laugh at us behind our backs for being so foolish and so they could plan their revenge with all of us none the wiser?” Sass said, and Sam thought about it, really thought about it, and it was exactly the kind of thing either of the women would do. “They’re fucking with us Sam.” 

“Well what are we supposed to do?” Sam asked, but before any one could answer, both Hetty and Winifred walked into the house, with looks on their faces like they had gotten caught red handed. 

“Hello everyone,” Hetty said with a large artificial smile and a slight bow of her head. 

Winifred followed suit. “Yes, hello.” 

No one responded, “I think that was a very enlightening stroll, Winifred, I look forward to our next one.” Hetty said in a slightly forced nature. 

“Yes, so do I,” Winifred responded, before they both looked back to the group with large artificial smiles. The kind of smiles that were the worst possible thing for their case. Everyone just smiled back, some giving a small wave. And even though Sam had thought it was far-fetched that it was all an elaborate act, now she was a believer in Trevor’s revenge theory, and there was nothing she could do about it. 

Chapter Text

Their walks became less and less frequent as the weather became more and more inclimate. But they found ways to still spend time together. Strangely everyone else seemed to be avoiding them more and more, especially if they were spending time together. So it became exceedingly easy to hold hands on the couch as they watched a television program. When the weather was good, they resumed their strolls, and fall set in faster and faster, and Winifred held tighter and tighter onto Hetty’s arm, and Hetty would just reassure her that she wasn’t going anywhere, that she wouldn’t let her be alone. 

Those awkward moments of hesitation between them began to smoothe over, but Hetty would still flinch at times, and the more she did, the more she would apologize. “It isn’t you Winifred, it isn’t this, I just feel like I can’t help it,” Hetty was sad as she said it, not looking to Winifred, they were sitting in Hetty’s room, or now both of their room, they had asked to switch and at this point people were for some reason fearful enough to just let them do what they wanted. So they got to share a room and more whispers of what they could possibly be plotting spread around the house. 

“It’s alright,” Winifred said, holding onto her hand, “I just don’t know what I am doing to cause it.” 

Hetty felt embarrassed about the fact that she flinched so often, though Winifred always told her it was okay, that she did not need to apologize, that even if at one point in time she would have made fun of her for it she would never dare joke about it now. 

They spoke in hush voices, never knowing who was on the other side of walls. It wasn’t like they were necessarily ashamed of their continued rendezvous, it was more a matter of the fact that they didn’t think it was anyone's business. They told people they were on good terms, and they were, they told people they were friends and they were, though maybe they were now more than that. 

“I don’t know,” Hetty knew it had caused her distress in the past, people suddenly touching her, suddenly grabbing her, though it had never really been an issue, she had not even really known it was an issue until now. “I know it is you, and I am more than happy to welcome your embrace, it’s just sometimes…” Hetty trailed off, a painful thought that she didn’t want to unload onto Winifred. 

A hand on her arm, another hand at the small of her back, Hetty quickly found herself leaning against Winifred, “Sometimes?” She asked, trying to soothe her. Still hesitant, they were both still trying to figure things out, trying to figure out what was okay and what wasn’t, and the learning curve was far steeper than either of them expected. 

Hetty let her weight lean against Winifred, for as new as all this was they found their arms around each other very quickly. Leaning against each other on the couch, laying together in the grass, in very recent days sleeping side by side at night, though there were still some nights that one of them got nervous and the other would go sleep on the couch. One time Alberta had seen Winifred sleeping on the couch in the downstairs sitting room and Winifred just told her to mind her own business. It didn’t help the whispers. 

But right now Hetty just wanted Winifred’s arms around her. She let out a hefty sigh as she contemplated speaking on the matter. Part of her did not want to, part of her just wanted to ignore all of it and just pretend like nothing was wrong, but that would not be fair to Winifred. “My husband was not a good man.” She said with a certain amount of defeat in her voice. 

Hetty felt hands gently rub her back, “If you don’t want to talk about your husband you don’t need to,” Winifred understood that it was a sensitive subject. That any time it came up in conversation Hetty became more reserved, brushed it off, swept it under the rug, acting as if it was not as bad as it was. 

“It was not my choice to marry him.” Hetty continued. She did not want to talk about it, but she needed to. “My father decided that for me, it was advantageous for a land deal that they were carrying out.” Hetty gave a small pained laugh. 

There was a hand that slowly brushed the hair out of her face, and Winifred was leaning back so they were laying down, Hetty laying her head on the front of Winifred’s shoulder. 

“From the first day I met him I knew he would never be a good husband, but I never thought he would be as bad as he was.” Hetty curled up against Winifred’s side, arm draped over her waist. “He was a drunk, a gambler, an adulterer, and generally an awful person.” Hetty took a deep breath, trying to keep composure. “I tried to be a good wife, I did, I tried to do as I was told, I tried to hold my tongue, but sometimes, well sometimes I thought I had the right to put my foot down. And he quickly corrected that behavior.” 

“Oh Hetty,” Winifred was holding her close, and that is what she needed. The others knew, they had met Elias, they had known the kind of man he was, but she never spoke of the specifics. She never spoke of what it meant to be married to a man like that. 

“It was never that bad,” Hetty tried to affirm, but even she knew that any amount of bad was still bad. “And I have not had to deal with him in that respect in a very long time, but still sometimes when there is a sudden movement, a sudden touch, a grab to my wrist that I am not expecting, and it is like I forget for a moment that he’s in hell.” Once again she was trying to take deep breaths to keep her composure. 

“I don’t want to ever make you think that I am going to hurt you,” there was a kiss to her temple, the brim of Winifred’s hat bumping her head. It caused both of them to laugh lightly. “I never will do anything like that.” And Hetty believed her, the way that she gently rubbed her back, held her close, but did not close her in. 

Hetty let out a sigh, “I know,” talking about it exhausted her, “I know, but sometimes I can’t help it, no matter how long he has been gone, he will always be there, like a poisonous shadow.” 

Winifred’s gentle hand could have lulled her to sleep, “He doesn’t have to,” Winifred said, she wanted to help, she thought what she was saying might help, “We’re already dead, ghosts don’t need to haunt us.” 

“I can’t get rid of him. I will always be Hetty Woodstone.” It was her final point of defeat before she started to cry and tears soaked into Winifred’s shoulder. 

Winifred had never seen Hetty cry before, had never heard her sob, the reality was very few people had, but here she was letting tears she pretended had not existed for so long find themselves within reality. “You don’t have to be Hetty Woodstone anymore. You can go back to your maiden name, be whoever you were before.” 

It was a heartbreaking laugh, “My maiden name is Woodstone. Elias was my second cousin. My father thought it was better to keep the property and the inheritance in the family. So sorry Samuel, if your daughter did not put her foot down your beloved cousin would have drunk and gambled and whored away every single cent you refused to waste on spinster daughters.” Winifred was holding her close again. “He told me that me sticking my nose in the bookkeeping was going to financially ruin us. But he was able to do that all on his own. My ‘female brain’ couldn’t mess it up more if I tried.” 

They laid there for a long time, Hetty felt emotionally stripped, she didn’t know if she had ever bore that much truth to anyone all at once. Small snippets had fallen out over the years, she knew the others could piece it together if they tried, but she never spelled it out. Hetty was almost asleep when Winifred spoke again. “You could take my name.” She said softly, not even as a fact, more as a suggestion. 

Hetty rolled onto her back, looking up at the ceiling, Winifred’s arm around her, “Take your husband's name? Henrietta Eleanor Dallimore, see, I just don’t think it works.” 

“Your middle name is Eleanor?” Winifred said, her voice ever more playful, lightening to mood that little bit.

“I never told you that?” Hetty could feel the slight shake to Winifred’s head. “Hm.” 

“Well, I think you are right, maybe not Dallimore.” There was a pause as there was a stroke to her shoulder, “What about Griffiths? I think Henrietta Eleanor Griffiths could work, and my father was a kind, be it stern, hardworking man.” 

Hetty was yawning, making herself as comfortable as she could. And she thought the name over in her head, “I know we technically moved in together very quickly but that was a matter of convenience. I think it is entirely too soon for me to be taking your name.” But Hetty was not saying that she wouldn’t. 

“Just know you are welcome to it.” Winifred said before they both drifted off to sleep. 

Winifred still paced. Even if she wasn’t as nervously on edge, she just liked to be on the move. Maybe it was so many years of non-existence inside cramped nothingness. So when she could, she normally stood, swayed back and forth, always wanting to listen to music more than anything. Her and Alberta had gotten more than one karaoke night organized, even though Winifred never sang, she loved the music, she loved to dance.   

On poor weather days she needed ways to distract herself, so she asked even more questions than before, trying to learn as much as she could about everything she had missed. And most of the ghosts were happy to talk about themselves, about what they remembered, she had already heard plenty of little stories, but now she would ask them to continue to tell her all about anything and everything that had happened in the one hundred and thirteen years she had been dead. 

It resulted in her watching a lot of documentaries, which Pete was happy to finally have someone on his side when it came to watching them. “Even since 1983, I feel like the world has changed so much.” She said as they watched a television series in total fascination as tigers and murder went hand in hand. “Have you ever seen a tiger in real life?” She asked as she couldn’t pull her eyes away from the screen. 

“Oh, plenty of times.” Pete said in slight horror to the living conditions of some of the tigers on screen. “My daughter, Laura, before I died I would take her to the zoo, I tried to take her to different zoos, some of them were smaller with just farm animals, but one time we went all the way to New York City, and I took her to central park zoo, I was really tuckered out by the end of that day, my wife had to drive home, complained the whole time. After that Carol, my wife, didn’t want to go to the zoo with us anymore. I just didn’t like driving in the city, so I opted to drive farther to a zoo with a parking lot, one time we went to Syracuse, but it rained on us the entire time, I ended up buying laura every stuffed animal she wanted because I felt so bad. Carol said I was spoiling her, but I made her sit in the car for three hours each way just to walk around in the rain and for all of the animals to be in the inside parts where we couldn’t see them. I thought the stuffed animals were only fair.” Pete had realized how long he had been talking before. “Did you ever see a tiger when you were alive?” Pete asked. 

“No.” Winifred said, eyes not straying from the screen. “There was a tiger at the London zoo, I read about it in the newspaper, I could never find the time to go though.” It was an easier thing for her to say than that she was never allowed, that her husband just brought back books of illustrations for her. “You had a daughter?” Winifred was hoping to change the subject off of her.

“Oh yeah, still do.” Pete said with a smile, “And she has a son, he’s named after me even, which really just made me feel like I must have done something right even if I was only her dad for eight years, so I am a grandpa now,” The fact warmed his heart, “Did you have any kids?” Pete asked nonchalantly. 

“Oh no.” She said it like it was a humorous concept, her having children. A complete novelty for her time. “There was a young orphan boy, Arthur, who lived in town who I used to bring food when I would come in for shopping. Through the winter I made up a bed for him in the house, but my husband was not fond of children. One of his conditions of marriage was there was to be no children about. And I agreed with him whole heartedly, but I thought that maybe he would have enough heart to let that poor boy sleep next to the fire. Especially when he was away working but he didn’t like house guests. Take him all the food I please, buy him new clothes if I so desire, but do not bring him back to the house.” Winifred knew she was oversharing, “He wasn’t my son, maybe he could have, I never wanted kids, but I never liked seeing him on the street like that, but that was a very long time ago. My apologies Peter, I am sure you do not want to hear about my past trivial matters.” 

Pete sat quietly, not expecting something so tragic. “Do you know if he made it through the winter?” He asked out of mortified curiosity. 

“I choose to believe that he did, that just like me when he disappeared without a trace he popped somewhere else and started a new adventure.” She forced herself not to think about the much more likely alternative. 

Pete didn’t want to think about it either. “So when you disappear, where do you go?” Pete was trying to desperately change the subject. 

Winifred was happy for the change in conversation as well, “Oh, I don’t think I go anywhere.” She had not really ever thought about it. “It is like I just stop, and then I start again.” The thought tugged at her mind and the eerie music could be heard in the distance as she made the record spin. “Where do you go when you disappear?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, I have never disappeared completely,” Pete said as he considered the matter. “I always come back to the property before that happens. But I guess maybe I won't disappear forever, maybe like you with the gramophone, someone could do something that would make me come back.” As he said it he felt a little bit less worried about the concept. 

“Maybe so.” Winifred tried to keep a hopeful smile, she didn’t want to burst his bubble, she did not also want to say that she feared what happened when the record no longer played music, or even worse, got lost. It was a miracle that she had made it this long. 

The silence between them was more comfortable now, or at least Pete thought it was more comfortable, Winifred had that feeling nagging at her again, but she tried to swallow it down as they continued to watch the documentary. Other ghosts had slowly trickled in and sat down with them as they got sucked in with the novelty and the scandal of the Tiger King. Hetty had found her way in, and sat next to Winifred, their hands intertwined out of view of everyone between their skirts. Trevor had kindly asserted his dominance over the room and took Pete’s spot on the couch, leaving Pete sitting on the arm of the couch, but no one wanted to deal with Trevor’s pantslessness on full display like that. Leaving Flower and Thor sat criss cross applesauce on the floor.

“So that lady totally murdered her husband, right?” Trevor asked the group as season one came to an end. 

And the overwhelming response from the group, in many different phrasings, was, ‘oh absolutely.’ 

Chapter Text

People in the house slowly were less on edge, though no one trusted their time together. Though there was nothing malicious about their strolls, they were trying to get what was left of the outdoors before the snow came. Winifred didn’t know if she was going to be able to go outside when the snow came, so they laid in the clearing, even though it was cold and muddy, they acted like it was a warm spring day, how Winifred could hardly wait for spring. 

Winifred sat with her legs out in front of her and Hetty laid with her head in Winifreds lap. She had pulled the pins out of her hair so that it sprawled all over. Winifreds hand played with Hetty’s hair as she looked down at her with a soft smile, quietly singing under her breath. 

“Now in the summer of life sweetheart, you say you love but me.
Gladly I give all my heart to you, throbbing with ecstasy.
But last night I saw in my dreaming, a cold and grey.
And I wondered if you’ll love me then dear, just as you do today.”

Hetty looked up at her with that same wonder that she saw Winifred look at the stars with. “I didn’t know you sang,” Hetty said as Winifred continued the song in hums. 

Winifred had been singing absentmindedly, did not even mean to sing it in front of Hetty, “Oh I don’t.” She had done it all the time, humming under her breath, but Hetty had never been able to make out the words. 

“I know you don’t sing karaoke, but I didn’t know you sang at all.” Hetty said while sitting up, letting her handful of pins drop to the ground just so they could whiz back up and put her hair in place. 

It was one of the moments where Winifred got shy, trying to find the right words to say, “Just for you, alright dear?” Winifred said leaving a kiss on her cheek.

“Will you sing me more?” Hetty said with a soft look in her eye. 

Winifred couldn’t find it in her heart to tell her no. 

“Will you love me in December as you do in May?
Will you love me in the good old fashioned way?
When all my hair turns grey,
Will you kiss me then and say,
That you love me in December as you did in May.”

Hetty kissed her again as she finished singing. “Well I did not love you in May, but I love you now, is that alright?” 

“You love me?” The words caught Winifred off guard. 

“Is that alright?” Hetty asked, moving closer. Winifred just nodded, and their lips found each other again, they had figured things out by now, and were much more comfortable as they kissed. Their hands got more accustomed to the curve of each other's corsets. They had figured out the comfortable places to grab each other, where the boundaries were, what boundaries could be pushed. Hetty’s hands traveled a little higher than they normally would sit, and Hetty could feel Winifred smile against her lips. 

Winifred pulled Hetty as close as she could, feeling Hetty smile, feeling her hands travel ever so gradually. Winifred was feeling adventurous, she pulled away for a moment, letting her next few kisses trail along Hetty’s jaw. Though it did not elicit the reaction she was hoping for. Instead Hetty was pulling away and pushing Winifred off of her. 

It was the quickest full stop they had ever come to. Both of them sat slightly apart, and Winifred wanted to reach out, she wanted to comfort her, but she didn’t know if that was the right thing to do. “I think staying away from my general…” Hetty gestured to her neck as she spoke, “Might be for the best.” Hetty was taking deep breaths, trying not to feel the guilt completely overwhelm her. Though it felt like it was coming at her from all sides. 

But Winifred just nodded and reached out again, being very intentional that Hetty could see her hand, and as soon as Hetty saw it she grabbed it and pulled herself close again. 

“You really are too sweet to me,” Hetty said as she leaned against Winifred. 

Winifred let her arm find its way around Hetty’s waist, “I care about you, I don’t want to harm you, I don’t know if that counts as me being sweet.” Hetty left a kiss on her cheek. 

“To me it’s sweet,” And it was sad, as both of them sat there, leaned against each other, this was what they had both known as sweet, as kind, it was a different kind of love than either of them had ever known. A kind of love that neither of them thought they were the type of person who got something like that. 

“If I am sweet then you are going to give the a toothache,” she said doing her best to bury her in kisses while leaving a healthy amount of space around her neckline, and it caused Hetty to giggle, giggle and kiss her back, a comfortable habit they were forming of stealing kisses from one another. Of falling into the grass laying on one another, like there was no such thing as being too close.

Hands found comfortable spots on each other, comfortable spots inching closer and closer to scandalous, “If you're trying to get a peep at my ankles at least let me smell dinner first,” Hetty said as a playful tease as she felt a small tug at her skirt.

“What time is dinner then? I want to make sure I’m there for you when you're done sniffing.” Winifred said, still tugging at her skirt ever so slightly. 

Hetty playfully tapped her shoulder, “Winifred Bronwyn Dallimore, that is scandalously forward of you.” Hetty said with an over exaggerated gasp. 

Winifred just smiled and rolled her eyes, “I am the one being scandalously forward? You are the one trying to measure me for a new corset.” 

“I am just trying to figure out the structural innovations that are made between our times.” Hetty said, trying to play up her ignorant innocence with a small pout. 

Winifred just smiled and gently held her face, “Of course the innovations.” She said with a smile leaning back in and guiding Hetty’s hands to where they could better ‘inspect the innovations.’

It still made both of them nervous, but not in the way that neither of them wanted to, in the way all of it was new. The feeling, both emotional and physical, something neither of them were familiar with, but wanted to become familiar with. Their foreheads were pressed together as they were catching their breath. Hetty saw the snow quickly gathering on the ground around them. She didn’t even recall when it had started snowing. Winifred leaned in for another kiss, but Hetty pulled back slightly, but did not let go. “I think we should head back to the house.” 

Winifred pulled away a little bit more, looking around to see the piling of snow, then up to see the dense flakes falling from the sky. “You're probably right.” Winifred took a deep breath as she got off the ground and they walked briskly to the house to get in from the snow. Winifred tried not to think about the snow, tried not to think about what the snow meant, tried not to think about the cold, about the winter, she tried not to give into that fear of being alone again. 

Back in the house people were strangely sparse, both of them were expecting to see someone, but for some reason the downstairs was completely void of both life and death. The snow was picking up outside and Winifred was pulling at Hetty’s sleeve. “May I ask where we're going?” Hetty asked as they made their way up the stairs and towards the bedrooms.

Winifred was pulling Hetty through their bedroom door and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Kissing her again, “Somewhere with a little more privacy.” Winifred was holding her close, it was a lot of things, part of it was a distraction from snow, most of it was a racing mind of curiosity. 

“And why do you want more privacy?” Hetty asked, even though her hands were already at her waist and pulling them entirely together. 

Winifred gave her a sarcastic look, “I don’t know yet, I have never done this before.” She was moving them so she didn’t have to face the window, so she didn’t have to look at the snow. 

Hetty did not know either, she barely knew in the slightest, she knew the washing machine, but she wasn’t exactly sure on how to do that with another person. And neither of them were in a hurry, but did a hurry really matter if neither of them knew what to do in the first place? “Neither have I.” It was more stumbling through, trial and error, finding what worked and what didn’t. 

It wasn’t long before they were sitting on the bed, giggling and smiling against each other, going slow, stopping to make sure things were okay. Some things were, some things weren’t, some things would be far easier if ghost physics wasn’t making clothing situations as complicated as it was. And their skirts and petticoats were already complicated enough on their own. But they figured it out, or thought they figured something out, they held each other in heavy breaths as hands found things far more scandalous than ankles. 

Winifred snored softly in an exhausted heap against Hetty. The brim of her hat once again crushed as Hetty slowly trailed her finger against her hairline. She looked out the window, completely dark now and saw the snow still slowly falling. It was a quiet and sweet moment of reflection, and Hetty looked down at the woman in her arms and wondered if she had ever seen such a beautiful sight. She hummed lightly as she stroked her hair, the same song Winifred had been singing, it easily got stuck in someone’s head. 

Winifred rolled slightly, her arm that had been draped over Hetty slipping off as she curled onto her side. Hetty looked at her with a soft smile, she looked at her like she was in love, she very well could be. She wasn’t exactly sure what being in love entailed, not in this regard, but maybe that was what she was feeling. Because she knew that she loved Winifred, Hetty had already told her that, but to be in love felt so much scarier, so much realer. 

She heard a ruckus coming from somewhere in the house. Hetty got out of bed, leaving a kiss on Winifred’s forehead, before making her way out of the room towards the noise. Everyone was gathered around Pete who sat on the couch looking vaguely traumatized. “I thought I was a goner, I thought I was going to disappear in there.” Pete said, other people talking over each other, but all of them arguing over ghost rules.

“It’s alright buddy,” Trevor was the main one consoling him. “Now we know for the future.” 

“But the real question is what makes ice ghost proof and snow not ghost proof,” She heard Sass say, and that just brought up even more questions. 

“Maybe it’s because ice gives you a pure reflection of your soul.” Flower input, no one knew how to respond to it. 

“Thor thinks it's because he was just not strong enough to ‘break the ice,’” Though no one laughed at the comment other than Thor himself. 

“How could the ice be one way though, because we could walk into them but couldn’t walk out.” Sass was really grappling with the concept. 

“What happened to Peter?” Hetty asked, and all attention turned to her. 

“Hetty! You didn’t get caught in a snowman!” Isaac said in pure delight.

“Caught in a snow-man?” Hetty asked, more confused than anything. 

Sam decided to give clarification. “Because of the snowstorm the other ghosts wanted to build snowmen, and then Sass walked into one, and couldn’t walk out. The current theory is that because it was a little warm out the snow melted a bit before freezing back over. But by that point Jay and I had built a lot of snowmen, and we didn’t know how many ghosts were stuck in them, and when we did a head count we were missing you, Winifred, and Pete. So we went through and destroyed all the snowmen on property but we couldn’t find Pete, so we worried Pete might have gotten stuck in one off property.” Sam explained. 

“The kids around get them up quick, I don’t know how many snowmen we smashed.” Jay said, looking vaguely in the wrong direction. 

“I eventually saw one with the arrow going through its head, which wasn’t Pete, but then I found another one with an arrow and that one was screaming so I knew it was Pete, but the family was still outside and it was an entire ordeal.” Sam said with a pained look. 

Jay shook his head, “I could not imagine being one of those kids who just watched me destroy their beloved snowman with a shovel.” 

“We were worried you and Winifred might have not known about how evil snowmen are and got stuck in them, but we couldn’t find you anywhere.” Pete said with some genuine concern. 

“Well I was in my room… taking a nap.” Hetty said simply, trying to seem inconspicuous as possible. 

“And what about Winifred?” Alberta asked with an accusatory tone. “Have you seen her?” 

“How am I supposed to know where Winifred is?” Hetty laughed slightly nervously. She knew exactly where Winifred was, she was curled up in bed, fast asleep. She knew good and well Winifred was safe and sound. Though everyone else seemed to worry about that fact. 

“We destroyed all the snow structures that could be unknowing ghost traps on property so we know shes not stuck.” Sam tried to calm the slight panic that was stirring amongst the other ghosts. 

“It is not like she's the most well adjusted ghost, and if she gets freaked out you know what will happen,” Sass said, trying to argue why they needed to go find Winifred, and Hetty wanted to jump to her defense. Tell everyone she was trying her best in her given circumstances. But like a queue the gramophone started. 

“I know you all are worried but Jay and I made and destroyed dozens of snowmen today, can you please just let us have a few hours to rest and we can start looking for her first thing in the morning.” Sam pleaded. 

“If we all start looking and we find her, can we come get you to break her out?” Alberta asked with a more than worried tone. Hetty had not spent a lot of time with other ghosts as they spoke about Winifred, but it warmed her heart to hear everyone else be worried about her. Even if other comments annoyed her. 

Sam gave an exhausted sigh, “Sure.” She said giving up. “Now Jay and I are going to bed and unless there is a breakthrough please don’t wake us up.” She said as her and Jay headed upstairs. 

A group of ghosts prepared to go out looking, but Hetty elected to stay, she said that she would stay with Pete while everyone else looked and would fill in Winifred if she wandered into the house. She found herself next to the gramophone, letting her hand rest it on it as she had seen Winifred do countless times. The haunting degraded record filling the house with chilling music, and Hetty looked up the stairs, wanting to go back upstairs to Winifred. She knew she was awake, but she had already spun the lie that she didn’t know where she was. 

“Trevor and I think we figured out what the Winifred song is.” Pete said, trying to start a conversation. Hetty looked over to him, with a confused look. “The song the gramophone plays when she’s freshening up her ghostly existence.” Hetty just nodded as she continued to brainstorm ways to slip away. “Based on the year around Winifred died and everything, were pretty sure it’s this song from 1905, it apparently was pretty popular, They Might Be Giants even did a cover, well, one of them did, I don’t remember which one, but the guy who wrote it was also Irish, just like you, he was from New York City, I wonder if Alberta ever knew him.” 

“That’s nice Peter,” Hetty said thinking maybe she could just Irish exit, she felt it was her right.

“Trevor says he can’t hear it but I think you can hear the melody, ‘will you love me in december as you do in may?’ ” Pete sang it out of tune, but it felt like it set Hetty into shock. And immediately Hetty could hear it in the music playing, it was the song that Winifred had sung, it was the song she had heard her hum endless times, it was a song that was practically ingrained into Winifred’s being. It was a song that had been her lifeline, it still was. And all of a sudden it all clicked, why it anxiously played through the house, why Winifred anxiously hummed, why she looked so sad when Hetty had asked us to sing more. Hetty felt like the world stopped. 

She had not thought about it in a very long time, but it felt like she knew something that she was not supposed to know. That she was peeking through the curtains into Winifreds soul. It made her want to rush upstairs. “I don’t hear it,” Hetty said. “I think you have the wrong song Peter,” Hetty wanted to bury that fact deep deep underground. 

All she could think was Winifred standing where she was now, hand on the gramophone, stuck in a house, looking down at herself as the melody played over and over again slowly deteriorating until you could not hear the vocals or the instruments or really anything discernible, just feel the sorrow and the worry. “You really don’t hear it?” Pete asked. 

“No.” Hetty said firmly. “I don’t hear it at all.” She looked between Pete and the stairs. “If you see her just yell, I am going to go check upstairs to see if she is anywhere up there.” It was an awful excuse, but she needed to get back up stairs, she didn’t even know why, she just felt her heart tug her back towards Winifred. 

Maybe Pete said something in response, but she quickly became overwhelmed with a sensation, a feeling, a need to make sure Winifred was okay. Maybe that's how she knew she was in love, that she couldn’t help it, because she knew Winifred hated being alone, she feared being alone, and Hetty had left her alone, and now Hetty felt just as haunted my the music played through the house, 

“When lifes setting sun fades away dear,
And all is said and done,
Will your arms still entwine and caress me…”

Winifred sang absentmindedly as she looked out the window. The snow had piled up so fast it made her wonder for a moment if she had disappeared again, but she knew the room, and she tried to remind herself that if she so chose she could leave the room but there was still that fear that if she tried to she couldn’t. She felt a hand on her back and it was a sigh of relief, “Let’s move away from the window,” Hetty said lightly pulling at her elbow. She did not know what Winifred’s past was with snow, but she saw that look in her eye. That haunted look where she could tell Winifred’s mind was far off lost in thought. That look where she looked closer to the ghosts in movies than any ghost in reality. 

Winifred let Hetty pull her away from the window and they sat down on the bed. “I woke up and I just…” Hetty was holding her arm and rubbing her arm. “For a moment I thought I had disappeared and was back again.” 

“There was a commotion downstairs, and you were asleep, I am sorry for leaving.” Hetty meant it, she really meant it, she might have meant it more than any apology she might have ever given. “Something about snowmen, apparently they are dangerous. People are currently looking for you.” 

It took Winifred a moment, she tried to lean her head against shoulder but her hat was making it difficult, leading to her pulling off her hat in fit before maybe pressing into Hetty too forcefully. “This hat is going to be the death of me,” She lamented, “Why are they looking for me? Didn’t you tell them I was in bed?” 

Hetty helped brush the strands of hair from her face, “I choked,” Hetty admitted, still gently caressing her face. “They asked me so suddenly, like I made you go missing, and I didn’t know about us…” 

“Do you not want people to know about us?” Winifred asked, looking up at Hetty. 

That was a complicated question, because in reality she did not care if people knew or not, but it didn’t feel like something that she wanted to announce. People had been acting strange since they told everyone that they were on good terms now. Maybe everyone already suspected and that's why they were acting strange, because they didn’t know how to approach the subject. It wasn’t like they really tried to hide anything, they did hold hands on the couch, and spent more than a fair share of time together, people had probably already come to conclusions. “It’s not that I don’t want people to know about us,” And the song was still nagging at Hetty’s mind, “I just didn’t know in that moment.” 

“I think it is none of their business what we do in our personal time.” Winifred said, and though she couldn’t see, Hetty smiled, really a woman after her own heart. “But if they are looking for me I should probably show my face, I would hate to worry them.” Winifred was sitting up all the way and dropping her hat so it went back up to her head before standing up with an exhausted sigh. 

She was moving to leave the room, but then Hetty spoke to stop her. “Winifred,” She turned to look at Hetty, “Are you alright?”

The answer put simply was no. She was not alright. But overall it was more complicated than that, more complicated than she even understood herself. “This is the longest I have actually ever been a ghost for, and there are just so many things I didn't know were going to cause me so much pain.” She stopped and took a breath, “I think I am going to be okay.” She said it with a tired smile, all she could do was hope that they would be. 

Chapter Text

Winifred had a hard time with the snow. Sam and Sass and Pete all assured her that because of global warming it would not be there for long, but she still would find herself looking out the window and getting lost in thought. She knew the winter was going to be hard. The winter had always been hard. That is why she wanted to leave, she wanted to get out, maybe find a nice Italian man to marry so she could live out her days in the sun. But instead she got cold winters. 

She had always known cold winters, she used to not hate them, but seeing the snow through the windows made her understand what Hetty meant when she said she knew it was all a long time ago but for a moment you forget and you felt like you were back there. She saw the snow and that cold isolating darkness creeped into her soul. The worst part was, she could never get herself to look away. 

November 18th, 1891

Winifred walked the snow lined streets in wonder at how the city looked covered in white. She loved the city, she had always loved visiting her uncle, she had even asked her parents on certain occasions if she could just move in with him. They told her it was rude to just invite yourself into other people’s homes. But Uncle Arthur had invited all of his brother's children to stay with him over the winter as sickness had been sweeping through the small village they lived in. While her younger brother and sister whined that they would not be able to see mom or dad for months on months, Winifred could barely hold her excitement. 

“Miss Winifred Griffiths, don’t you try to run off again.” Her uncle called towards her as a warning. He couldn’t keep up, her entire life he had walked with a cane and a limp, though he tried to tell everyone it stopped him from nothing.  

“I’m not trying to run off uncle Arthur.” She circled back to walk at his pace. “You know I’m very excitable. And the City is an exciting place.” Her uncle laughed at the comment. Humored by her energetic nature. Though, what 22 year old was not full of life. 

“Oh what I would give to have that sort of energy again.” He mused as they continued their stroll. “I was like you once you know, itching to get out of the village and move to the city.” 

“Why couldn’t I have been your daughter, uncle Arthur, then I could have grown up here instead all the way out near London. We aren’t even close enough to London to warrant going into the city.” She said far too dramatically. 

“Now now, your father saw an opportunity and took it. Just as I did. They were just in different directions.” Arthur tried to placate her. 

Winifred kicked at the snow as they walked. “Yes, my father kissed the ring.” And Arthur lightly but swiftly hit her with the head of his cane. 

“Your father did what he thought was best.” Arthur said sternly, and Winifred tried to hold her tongue. “And if you are so upset about it, find yourself a nice man here to marry before the winter is over.”

She rolled her eyes at the concept, “what if I just became a governess,” 

“Governesses have far more work in the countryside.” Arthur said, and she once again rolled her eyes. “What if I threw a dinner party, ask around to find some nice young men who would happily take you as a wife.” 

Arthur had always had a special kindness for Winifred. No children of his own, his nieces and nephews he always welcomed with open arms, but he saw far too much of himself in Winifred. That same excitable nature that found far too much wonder in far too many things. 

“Should we stop for some confectionery for the little ones?” Arthur asked as they passed the sweets shop. 

“‘Little ones?’ Ianto is 14 years old and is going to be taller than me by Easter.” Winfred joked. 

“Well maybe I want confectionery.” He said with an artificial pout before triumphantly entering the sweet shop. 

Winifred tried her best to make a good impression on some of the young men who came by the house to do business with her uncle, but maybe she came on too strong, a modern woman who read philosophy and literature and concerned herself with politics. Her uncle tried to put in a good word for her, but normally he would hear back that while she seemed like a nice young lady they were looking for a wife who was a little more domestic. Arthur assured her that there was nothing wrong with being unwed, but Winifred knew that she needed a husband if she ever wanted to have any amount of independence. A contradiction she felt, but it was the way that life was. Sometimes she wished she could just be picked up and carried off to some far off land like the ones she read about in books. 

February 4th, 1892

Winifred looked out at all the ships coming into port crossing the Atlantic, she wondered what it would be like to go out to America. To her it sounded like an adventure. Her older brother had moved to Boston, and it had almost tore her family apart when he left. The thought had crossed her mind, of once she was old enough following him out there and maybe marrying a cowboy, but she could never do that to her mother and father, she knew it would kill them. 

“Oh look, it is Barnaby’s little bird.” A sailor called out towards her. Though it barely bothered her, the more days she hung around the docks the more comments they made. She just ignored them the best that she could. 

“Is he around anywhere?” She asked the group of sailors. All of them looked to each other and shrugged. 

She just stood there expectantly until one of them drug him back like a soaked rat. 

Barnaby Dallimore was her ticket to freedom. Originally from Canabury but had been on the seas for over a decade. While maybe not the most visually appealing he had something that put him well above any of the other men that turned her down, a complete disinterest in her personal whims but a willingness to fund them. She thought it was a perfect storm, she could live in Cardiff near her uncle, host her family whenever they pleased, and have all the benefits of marriage without a husband telling her what to do with her time. 

“Miss Griffiths.” He said, sounding partially annoyed, partially intrigued.

“Mr. Dallimore.” She tried to give her best smile, she had been trying to win him over ever since they made accidental acquaintance. 

“And what do you have to ask me today?” He asked, she had been around the docks nearly every day in the past week. 

“I was wondering how long your shore leave was.” She asked with a smile. 

“Well it depends,” He said, weighing his options, “How long are you going to be asking for me?” 

“That depends,” she said trying to lay it on thick, “How long until I am Mrs. Dallimore?” 

Her uncle Arthur told her that she was much better than chasing sailors, but she just did not like the idea of going back and living in the village. Any time she complained her father would tell her that if she wanted to see a small village she should see where he grew up, but she still wanted out, she thought he was her ticket out. He warmed up to her more eventually, though her father came down to Cardiff himself when she sent him a letter informing him of their engagement. Winifred had to beg and plead and promise that he was a good man, though she only knew him as a quiet one. 

March 25th, 1892

The snow was starting to melt as they walked from the church to her uncle's house, all her family there for their less than traditional wedding. But she tried to assure everyone that they were living in modern times, and this was the modern world, and modern marriages would be anything but traditional.

“Winifred,” Her uncle Arthur said, pulling her to the side, “I want you to know that you will always have a room here, alright?” He said it in a serious tone, far more serious than she thought she had ever seen him, far more serious than she thought he was capable of. 

“I am sure Barnaby and I will come to visit.” She said smiling, trying to brush it off. 

“No.” Stark serious, teetering on cold, “You will always have a room. No matter what.”

She wanted to ask what would possibly make him say that, what he saw that she didn’t, but they were interrupted and never had a moment of privacy after that point for her to ask, but she remembered the words, and tried not to let them eat at her.

The next day Winifred was packing her bags, the day after she was heading down to the docks of Cardiff for one last time as she and Barnaby sailed to the east side of England to where he had worked out a deal to build a house on an extended family member’s property. A quiet house for a quiet man.

October 7th, 1892

Winifred knew her mistake. She had known it by May, maybe even April. But she knew she had made a mistake. 

“Stay for a little longer Barnaby, the snow will be packed in before you are back and I don’t want to weather the winter alone.” She begged for his attention constantly. She begged for him to stay. 

He just continued to get his things ready. “Oh you will be fine, it’s just the winter.”

“If you aren’t going to be here I might as well go spend it with my parents, they are getting older and probably need some help,” She tried to wager. 

“Is this house not good enough? I try to keep you happy Winifred, but you seem to always want something, it is never enough for you. If you want to see your parents so badly, maybe they should come visit.” He argued. 

“We don’t have room for guests,” She begged. 

“Exactly, because I don’t like house guests.” He picked up his bag in anger, but stopped before he walked out the door. “I should be back by January.” He said before he started for town. 

She did whatever she could to keep in control of her life, she went to town as often as the weather let, bought herself confectionery and books, anything to make her feel a little bit more human. But the snow got to a point where it was far too difficult of a trek and she had no other option than to just sit in the house and look out the window. 

January 23rd, 1893

Barnaby came home, but did not speak a word. And that was worse than being alone. Winifred did not even know why. 

“Are you sick, are you hurt?” She tried to ask him, but he would just ignore her. “Barnaby, darling, please tell me that you are okay,” It made her worry that she was dead, that she was some sort of ghost he could not see, “Anything, blink twice so I know you can see me.” 

“My god Winifred, are you ever quiet, I am home from sea, all I want is a little peace and quiet.” He snapped at her. Winifred stepped away and shut her mouth. “I paid off the account with the dressmaker,” He called out to her as some sort of apology, but what good did it matter anymore. 

That night as she walked along the cliffside she cried for the first time over it. She had assured her father he was a good man, and in some respects he was, but in others he wasn’t. He was a good man in the way he let her make some of her own decisions, but she had not thought about the rest. How he kept her sequestered away from the world, how he ignored her, refused to touch her, but at moments he would still call her pretty, he would let her sing, and he would bring her home shiny things that were supposed to make it all okay.

She was Barnaby Dallimore’s little bird that he liked to see once or twice a year but for the rest of it would just ignore. 

April 12th, 1899

She walked around town trying to feel human again. Trying to take in the sound and the sights and the smells. What she would give to live in a small village. What she would give to have anyone to speak to. 

“Winifred?” It was the first time she had heard her name be called out in a very long time. “Winifred, is that you?” the thick Welsh accent nearly bringing tears to her eyes.

She turned to see an older gentleman with an engraved walking cane and well loved silk hat and immediately rushed towards him, nearly knocking him down in the process. 

“My dear, I barely recognized you.” He said with a hearty laugh. 

“Uncle Arthur, what are you doing here?” She asked in pure delight. 

He shrugged, “A little this, a little that,” He looked her up and down. “How are you doing?” He asked in full sincerity, a worried look to his face, but Winifred could not get herself to answer honestly. 

“I am doing well.” She tried to smile through it. 

Some part of Arthur knew, knew that things were not going well. Maybe it was the way there was nothing behind her eyes, maybe it was the way she seemed like she was a corpse amongst the living, but something was not right. But he had places to go and debts to argue, his tardiness was already going to cost him, “You still have a room in Cardiff, you know that, right?” He put his hand on her shoulder. He looked at her and saw a ghost of the little girl he had seen grow up into a determined woman. He saw no light within her anymore. 

“I know, I just,” And she did not want to admit that she was wrong, that she made the wrong choice, that she was miserable and her scheme did not work and instead she just sat inside waiting for a husband who treated her closer to a pet. “I really love it out here, I never want to leave.” She couldn’t get herself to admit to the people who warned her that she should have listened. 

If he wasn’t already running late he could have asked more questions, “Well, that is good to hear, I am so sorry for running but I have to get going Winifred, I am already running late, but I am sure I will see you at Ianto’s wedding,” Arthur was already gone before she could respond. 

“Ianto’s wedding?” she said to herself, and the world felt like it was crashing all around her. Her little brother was getting married and she didn’t even know. They were a world away, they might as well have been on a different planet, it would be easier to go to the moon than figure out how to go to the wedding. She wondered if she should run after him, admit her mistakes, ask for him to bring her back to Cardiff with him, ask to go home to her parents, hug her sisters and her brothers again. 

That night she felt more alone than she had in a long time. The sky clouded over. Not even the stars to keep her company. 

December 25th, 1903

It was Winifred’s eleventh winter alone as she stood at the cliffside looking out to the sea, snow swirling all around her, she didn’t know if she could do it anymore. It was cold, she was not dressed nearly warm enough for the weather, practically in her underwear, but she knew it didn’t matter anymore. None of it mattered anymore. She couldn’t do this anymore. She wanted to live, she wanted to see the world, but this was not living, it felt worse than death. 

A hand was on her shoulder as she tried to step forward. 

“What are you doing, Winifred?” Barnaby’s voice had that same tired tone that it always did, like this was some sort of other trivial matter. 

“I’m walking into the ocean,” She said with a pained laugh. 

“Do you want to see the Christmas gift I got you first?” It was said with no kindness, no worry, it was said like she would be an idiot for not seeing what shiny new thing he got her. 

“Okay.” She said turning to fall into his arms but he was just walking away, leaving her collapsing to the ground and a cold crying mess in the snow as he unloaded something out of the buggy. 

Her hands and knees nearly burned from the cold of the snow, and she wondered what would happen if she just refused to get up. So she stayed huddled on the ground. 

Barnaby walked back over and stood in front of her, “You are always complaining about being alone through the winter, and now I’m back and you are just acting like a petulant child.” He said it like he didn’t understand how she could possibly be upset. “Get up before you get frostbite.” And he just stood there until she was back on her feet and walking back towards the house. 

She shivered next to the fireplace for hours as Barnaby set up the gramophone. He explained it as some sort of new technology that he thought would keep her entertained, he joked about how it would keep her from ‘walking into the ocean,’ and Winifred just shivered in her soaked chemise. It was the most talkative she had ever seen Barnaby, and she felt like she was going to die of cold. 

February 27th, 1905

The gramophone was a saving grace, it gave her something more than her own thoughts to hear.  It was a better distraction than the books and the needlework and so many little distractions Barnaby had brought home over the years. Winter after winter she felt like the largest act of kindness Barnaby ever showed her was that gramophone. There were pretty dresses and unique jewelry that he brought home but the only thing that felt like a real gift anymore was the music. Barnaby found it funny, that sweets and music are what actually placate her. 

He would watch her dance and hum to the music until he had his fill and turn off the music. Leaving Winifred moping by the window or leaving to walk along the cliffside, though ever since that Christmas he would keep an eye on her. 

“How long will you be gone?” He asked as she wrapped herself in her coat and scarf and hat. 

“I don’t know,” She said, putting on her mittens and going towards the door. 

He got up from where he was sitting and moved his chair next to the window, and Winifred knew what that meant. Stay in view, don’t get any bright ideas, don’t make me get up from my chair. 

Winifred stopped at the door and looked back at Barnaby. “You could come walk with me, up over the hill there is a gorgeous view of the sea.” It was a last ditch attempt to try to connect with him, to try to feel like she was a real person, that he saw her as a real person. 

“You are a very capable Winifred,” he said with a huff. “Do you really need me to walk with you?” 

“What if I just want a companion? What if I just want some pleasant conversation? What if I just don’t want to be alone?” She desperately begged. 

He sat there looking at her with a confused look, like the concept was completely foreign. “I thought this is what you wanted, Winifred, I thought you wanted independence. I thought we agreed about that, you wanted to do what you pleased and I wanted a quiet house to come home to when I was on shore leave. All I ask is that you don’t leave the house empty and let me have my peace when I am home. I try to keep you happy Winifred, God knows your credit lines in town reflect that.” 

She didn’t think it was independence in any regard. She thought it was a sad excuse for independence. She was only as independent as her clipped wings could get her as long as she hopped back to the house come night. 

Barnaby gave a stressed huff. “I hear some women are keeping cat’s in the home now, would that make you happy? If I got you a kitten?” 

It felt like a joke. Like some sort of cruel joke. She didn’t think her wants were that outlandish, she thought it would be very achievable for them to build a guest house if he was that set on her staying with the home. But Barnaby didn’t want the ruckus when he was home, even if she promised she would not have guests when he was on shore leave, there was always a chance and he just did not want to take that chance. 

“So you would let me have a kitten but you wouldn’t let that poor orphan boy sleep here through the winter?” She asked, trying not to raise her voice. 

Barnaby was shaking his head, “Again with the boy, I don’t think I was being unjust, neither of us want children, or at least that is what you told me.” 

“He was freezing, have a heart Barnaby, for one moment have a heart.” she begged, though she knew it was a fruitless fight. 

He was shaking his head, “You know good and well I cannot stand that sort of ruckus,” Barnaby sat thinking for a moment, “Of all the urchins why that one? Was it because his name was Arthur and he had a lame leg? Was that it?” 

“Is it a sin to be sentimental?” She asked, though she knew Barnaby was not a religious man. Radically so. The last time they were in a church was their wedding day. And maybe it was, maybe that young boy who asked her why she spoke a little funny reminded her of her uncle who she loved so dearly. Maybe she only cared so much about that one particular street kid because of that, or maybe it was because she was so alone that she would take anything at that point. But a name matching her uncle and a condition that left him walking in the same limping manner did a lot to pull at her heartstrings. 

Barnaby looked away from her, trying to straighten his thoughts. “I am sorry that I would not let you bring him home.” He said it cold and distant. “What can I bring you to make up for it?” 

“Just new music, my disks are starting to warp,” she said before she left the house in defeat to leave Barnaby in his beloved silence. 

August 1st, 1912

Winifred had gone to town to see Barnaby off with the ship. She tried to pretend, pretend to be a happy wife, be happy with the independence she got, pretend, pretend, pretend, look at the stars at night and imagine far off worlds, anything the reality she existed in. She tried to remind herself that other women had it far worse. 

“I will be back in October.” He said as he prepared to board the ship. 

She nodded silently, maybe some of his tendencies were rubbing off on her, maybe she was finally becoming a good wife. 

“No goodbye?” He asked, unsure of what to do in her silence. 

“I can offer you a kiss for luck.” She said with a sad smile, but he just shook his head. “Will you at least kiss me goodbye?” She asked and he reluctantly left a kiss on her cheek. He was a good man, just distant. That's what she told herself anytime she wished for more. He is a good man at heart. He is just distant. 

“I will see you in October,” he said before walking away. And watching him leave was always bittersweet. She tried to get herself to miss him, but whether he was there or not she felt just as alone. 

She lingered about in town, going in and out of shops, she knew the whispers about her. Barnaby told her to ignore them, that if she did not like the whispers she could just stay at the house, but that was worse than the whispers. So she saw the people try to hide the fact that they were staring as she floated in and out of shops with that emptiness behind her eyes. 

“Mrs. Dallimore?” She heard said to her as she passed the post office. 

She turned her head and stopped, “My husband prefers I don’t interfere with his mail.” She said, trying to wave him off. 

“We are aware,” The postman continued, “This is addressed specifically to ‘Miss Winifred Browyn Griffiths Dallimore.’ So I think it is fair to say it is for you, not your husband.” The postman said, and she followed him into the post office. 

It was a large envelope, addressed simply to her name and the town, and she couldn’t wait to get home to read what was inside. Instead promptly opening it right there on the counter. 

‘My Dear Winifred,
     If this has been posted my final Will & Testament has been read and executed. Which means that my promise of you always having a room in Cardiff is no longer true as the house was sold upon my death to settle my debts. In my final years I missed you dearly, but understand the commitment you made to your husband. I do hope you are happy, it is all any of us could assume when you never came home to visit, that you were far too happy there.
     Ianto moved to America if you did not hear, it caused much of a ruckus, though I know if you made it to Boston you would have a room there.
     In my final years finances grew weary, so I am not able to leave you the inheritance I once hoped for, but I have enclosed a small sum that should be good for a rainy day.
     I always worried about you Winifred, so did your father but he would not admit it. But he, and your mother and I, always wanted you to be at least content with your life. And I never knew how to ask you if you were, if you truly were, I did not want to doubt you when you said you loved your husband, but I would have never thought you to be someone who would be content so far from the world. If you are content, I am glad, but if you are not, I beg of you to leave. Sell your hair if you must, go to Paris and become an artist, change your name and move to Italy, but please be happy. Let me rest knowing that you are happy.
     I think about that day I saw you. It haunted me. To see you so miserable. Like a ghost amongst the living. It was not the same Winifred who beat me at cards in her youth.
     Be happy for me. By whatever means necessary. Don’t let your own stubbornness get in the way of your own joy. Please. 

In Life & in Death,
     Arthur G. Griffiths’

She stood there with the letter for a long time, a check also in the envelope that she held close to her chest. Not much, but it was something. Not much but it could get her away. Winifred had always ignored the thought of leaving, she made her bed and damnit she was going to lie in it, but this was a sign, a sign that she didn’t know she needed. A sign that she couldn’t spend another winter here. 

August 11th, 1912

She sat staring at herself as she willed music to fill the room. Her body lifeless and cold on the ground, though the eyes looked just the same as they had the last time she looked in the mirror to fix her hat before she died. 

‘Will you love me in December as you do in May?’

The song had been playing for close to twenty four hours, and she just hoped if it played long enough she would just wake up. And could chalk this up to some sort of horrifying dream. She looked at her body and wondered how long she had been dead, physically she knew about a day, but on the inside, when had that candle flickered out? 

‘Will you love me in the good old fashioned way?’

It didn’t feel fair, it didn't feel fair at all, was this what she got for trying to maybe find any amount of happiness again?

‘When all my hair turns grey,’

She just kept the song going, that maybe she would wake up, that the body in front of her would stop deteriorating, that the snow would stop blowing into the house, if the song kept playing that meant that she was alive, someone had to crank the gramophone, sure she was looking at her own corpse but she read fiction, she could suspend her disbelief. 

‘Will you kiss me then and say,’ 

The cold and the weather warped the disk, leaving the words unintelligible, but Winifred knew them and she sang along, and maybe if she just kept singing the withered and partially scavenged corpse of her living self would just magically pop back to life. It didn’t matter how many days, weeks, months she had watched herself decay into dust, she had to hold out any amount of hope for things to get better. It is how she made it through 19 winters, it’s how she was going to make it through one more. 

‘That you love me in December as you do in May.’

The song was irony incarnate, she did not have to worry about December if no one loved her, if no one really loved her, if no one completely and utterly romantically loved her in the first place.

Alberta had walked into the room and saw Winifred deep in thought as the decaying record filled the house with the ghost of songs past, “Winifred,” she sort of whisper yelled to get her attention, “Earth to Winnie, you there?” Though she got no answer. So she got closer and lightly shook her arm, “Hey Freddie,” the music suddenly stopped and Winifred seemed to shake out of whatever trance she was in. 

“Alberta, I barely noticed you standing there.” Winifred said, trying to get her bearings again. 

“You seemed concentrated but Jay is making tacos and you have to come smell them.” Alberta said with an excited squeal. 

Winifred smiled. “Tacos? Wait I remember those, I think, Trevor told me they’re for Tuesdays, it’s Wednesday.” She said as she followed down the stairs. 

“Oh don’t listen to Trevor, you can have tacos whenever you want, I’ve even seen Jay make them for breakfast,” Winifred took a moment to consider what a breakfast taco could be and she physically was incapable of conceptualizing it. “What were you so focused in on anyway?” Alberta asked like she was about to get some juicy gossip. 

“Oh nothing,” she didn’t want to think about it anymore. “I was just thinking about the snow.” 

Chapter Text

Hetty tried not to approach the topic of the song anymore. When she would hear Winifred singing or humming she would not comment. Winifred would confine in her in her own time if she so chose. 

The snow came and went, but by early-december the snow was there to stay. But Winifred learned to lean on Hetty when things got hard, to go to her when that anxious itch rose within her. Hetty would hold her and kiss her and tell her, “I won’t let you be alone.” 

Hetty did not know how much those words meant to Winifred, how much it meant to her, the small little actions. Sometimes Winifred would realize it as they sat on the couch, squeezed up against one another, and Hetty would smile at her, and it would almost bring Winifred to tears as she realized no one had ever looked at her like that. And there she was, smiling at her. 

Everyone else took the way they looked at each other as some sort of secret queue that they should watch out for. Hetty and Winifred were not even trying to hide it, they sat next to each other and made heart eyes constantly, but everyone else had gotten it so in their heads that there was a conspiracy that when they saw Hetty and Winifred give each other those longing looks all they saw was them communicating their go plan. 

Everyone sat around as people talked about holidays past, some sweet, some bitter. But that's how it always went when they shared stories from their past. It was bitter. It made them all reflect that they were not alive anymore, and some of those things, warm fires, fresh food, family close and far, were things that they would not experience anymore. 

Sam would listen as the ghost shared their stories of holidays past, and wondered about her dad. Wondered about all the holidays she’d missed, she’d worked through. 

“And that was the time I robbed a bank,” Flower said with a smile that had no idea what was going on. “But don’t tell anyone I told you.” She added quickly after. 

Winifred, Hetty, and Pete sat on one couch, while Trevor sat on the floor in front of them. Sass and Alberta took up the other couch while Sam, Jay, Flower and Thor all sat in kitchen chairs that had been dragged into the living room. They offered Trevor a chair but he said he was good on the floor. The fire was going and plenty of cups of cocoa sat around for ghosts to sniff, fresh cookies and other goodies that Jay made to request. But Sam had tried her best to make sure it wasn’t too Christmas forward, she didn’t want to make anyone feel left out. 

“What about you Winifred, have you ever robbed a bank?” Flower asked, though everyone else had just told stories about their family around the holidays, and now everyone was looking at her. 

“Well…” She looked at the gramophone and thought of Christmas and the snow burning her hands and she anxiously latched herself onto Hetty’s arm. “I don’t know if there is anything special to say, when I was young it was not the same, very different time. And my parents were very modest people, normally sweets, sometimes toys.” She thought back to christmases when she was young. “Oh, there was this book, my uncle got us a copy, I can’t think of the name, it had ghosts in it, my older brother used to read it to us before he… moved. Then my older sister read it until she got married, and then I read it to my younger siblings until… I got married.” She could only hope that her younger brother and sister still read it after she moved away. 

“Were you reading A Christmas Carol?” Sam asked, the question snapped Winifred back. 

“Yes! Do you know it?” Winifred asked, her eyes lighting up again. 

“It's only one of the most beloved pieces of literature of all time.” Pete piped in. 

It felt nice for something she knew to still be relevant. Winifred felt like she had so much catching up, it was nice that wasn’t one of them. As the night went on Hetty leaned more and more against Winifred. If anyone was paying attention they would see. They would see the way they leaned against each other, the way Winifreds hands wrapped around Hetty’s arm. They really weren’t hiding it. But everyone just chalked it up to the close nature of female friendships of their time. 

People were laughing and joking and it was easy to forget all of the other things. They just leaned against each other and laughed along with the others. Stories quickly moved on from holidays and anything that got a giggle out of the group. 

“So I am backstage when the cops rush the place. Now of course, I was not about to go down because Charlie forgot to pay off the cops, but there was nowhere to go, sure there was a window but it was tiny and I was not fitting through it.” Alberta was telling one of her many stories from performing in speakeasies. Everyone was listening in, though many had heard it before. “So I had to get creative, and I am so sorry Basil but it was your bass or me, and we could get Basil another bass. We could not get another me.” 

“You had a plant in your band? It must have been extremely talented.” Flower asked in wonder, and Winifred just giggled. She had never heard the story before and was completely tuned in. 

“What did you do?” Winifred asked on the edge of her seat. 

Alberta looked at her with an excited grin. “Well, Basil's bass was left in the dressing room and the cops were none the wiser as they helped load me into the truck. See, unlike Charlie, Basil knew to pay people. Anyways, they didn’t know it was me in the case until they were halfway to Philadelphia. Boy was Basil mad, but it took us a total of one night to make enough money to buy him another one.”  Winifred clapped lightly at the end of the story. “Really the worst part was my neck was so crooked in that bass case I couldn’t turn my head left for a week.” Everyone laughed in response.

“Want to talk about neck pain, talk to me and Hetty.” Pete added with a point to the arrow to his neck and an elbow jab towards Hetty, but no one else was laughing. It went dead silent. Winifred just looked at Hetty as she sat stiffer. 

No one wanted to be the first to speak. Hetty could tell everyone was trying to avoid looking at her but she could catch them looking over. Winifred watched as Hetty seemed to grow wearier and wearier until she was getting up suddenly. “If you will excuse me it is very late and I wish to get all 8 hours.” Hetty said leaving in a rush. 

Winifred got up to follow her but Isaac stopped her. “Just give her a moment.” He said standing in her way. 

“But she’s obviously upset about something.” Winifred said trying to move around Isaac but he just moved with her. 

“Just give her a moment. We don’t want to overwhelm her.” He said. Winifred turned to look at the group. 

“Come on Pete, you had to know that was not something to joke about.” Alberta sternly gave. 

The regret read across Pete’s face. “I know, I know, I wasn’t thinking. I was just trying to make a lighthearted joke.” 

Winifred saw everyone dance around the subject, not anyone saying anything directly. “What is going on?” Winifred asked, no one really answered. People gave vague answers, ‘Pete made a joke that was less than appreciated,’ ‘It’s just not something for him to joke about,’ ‘It was an accident, he misspoke.’ But Winifred was smart enough to put the very few pieces she had together. Though there were still gaps. 

Sam looked like she was about to explain, but then stopped herself. “It’s not really any of our place to say.” She said with a shrug. Winifred looked to everyone else hoping someone would give her anything. But no one did, everyone just avoided eye contact.

“I am going to go check on her,” She said, grabbing her skirt so she could better run up the stairs. Isaac stepped as if he was going to try to stop but Winifred looked at him with such hurt and concern that he kept his mouth shut. And Winifred ran up the stairs. 

“Hetty?” She said as she walked into their room, seeing her sitting on the bed. “Are you alright?” Winifred knew she had her moments of being withdrawn, she could understand it all just being too much and needing to leave. Though she found herself being pulled to her side, sitting next to her, close if Hetty needed her. 

“I know Peter did not mean any malice,” She said with a deep breath. In good time she knew Winifred would confine in her about the things that brought her pain, but that went both ways and it was as good of time as any to pull out the skeletons. She turned to her and started unbuttoning her bodice. 

Winifred reached her hands out to stop her. “I don’t know if now is the time.” She said it in slight shock. 

“I need to show you something.” She said slowly moving Winifred’s hands away from her and then continuing to unbutton her bodice. Winifred tried not to stare but she felt like it was just as inappropriate to purposefully look away. 

Hetty folded her bodice neatly on her lap before starting to loosen her shirtwaist, though as soon as Hetty she started undoing the buttons Winifred did completely look away. Regardless of how close they had gotten in some regards, it still felt like it was something she was not supposed to see. Feel, yes, though she didn’t think it was something for her eyes. 

Hetty pulled her shirt waist off and folded it as well. It was more exposed than she had probably been since she got dressed on the day she died. “Winifred.” She said in a serious manner and reaching for her hand. 

Winifred turned her head to look at her, and it was very strange to see her shoulders, it was more of her than she ever expected to see. But she knew exactly what Hetty was referring to when she said she ‘wanted to show her something.’ She understood what Pete made a ‘joke’ about. She understood why everyone else was dancing around the topic. It all came in the form of a yellow cord wrapped tightly around her neck. Winifred looked at her with deep sorrow, but not the kind that looked at her like some lost puppy, the type of sorrow that was an understanding of pain, an understanding regardless of why. Winifred gently reached out towards one of the ends of the cable, and Hetty lightly nodded. Winifred slowly unwrapped the cable from her neck, Hetty held onto the other end so that it did not reinstate its original placement. She slowly unwrapped until the cable fell into their laps. 

Winifred stared at the cable for a long time then looked at Hetty. Pale skin all exposed leaving the red all the more stark. “Did your husband do this to you?” Winifred quietly asked. 

Hetty had never told someone intentionally, all the other ghosts had found out because it was either that or let Flower be forever stuck in the well. Though now her hand had also been pushed. She could have said yes, that Elias had killed her, not have to admit to the bitter reality. Winifred would have believed her if she just nodded her head. She probably would have opened her arms and let Hetty fall into them. Hetty could say she didn’t want to talk about it and she trusted that Winifred would not push further. It would have been so much easier. But it just made her feel ill to lie. Like she could either live in a comfortable deceit or ever look into Winifred’s eyes again. 

“No.” Part of her felt like she should have been crying, but the tears didn’t come. “I was alone, and I didn’t know what to do, I was trying to protect my son…” She had told the story before, she was trying to make sure she didn’t miss any of the parts. “My husband had gone missing, the police were coming after him for his financial mishandlings and his countless criminal connections, and because they couldn’t find him they came after me…” She held onto Winifred’s hands with intent. “They could not find Elias, and if I was gone then my son would at least get something. So I made a choice. A desperate choice. A choice that at the time I thought was best.” 

Winifred understood, she understood feeling so desperate that it felt like the only choice, understood that it might have been. She knew that desperate feeling well. “I understand,” Was all she could get herself to say as she nodded. 

“I know that there was probably something else I could have done, but everything was happening so fast, and I didn’t think there were any other options.” Hetty tried to explain. 

It made Winifred’s heart hurt, “You do not have to justify yourself to me.” She assured, and Hetty just nodded. “Does it hurt?” She asked, though knew it might be a bit personal. 

“At times.” Hetty admitted. “Sometimes it tugs, sometimes I need to readjust.” 

It was a lot of nodding, small questions, small moments, but mostly just the exhausting act of understanding.

“You are making me feel overdressed.” Hetty lightly laughed as she leaned against Winifred. 

“I would suggest you could join me but I would much rather match you.” Hetty said with a yawn. 

“Here,” Winifred said, lifting the cable once again, “Maybe I can help you?” 

Hetty once again nodded and Winifred gently placed the cable around the back of her neck, trying to wrap it as loose as possible. Trying to be as gentle as she could. Then both her and hetty picked up the shirtwaist, Winfred helped guide it around her body as both her arms slipped in, then began slowly buttoning up the shirt to be smooth all the way up to the neckline where she made sure that the lace collar stood properly and made minor adjustments to the cable so it did not peak through. 

“Does that feel okay?” She asked and Hetty just nodded with a small smile. 

Winifred continued, helping Hetty tuck her shirtwaist back into her shirt the best she could. 

“My apologies if this is a little close for comfort.” Winifred said as her fingers slightly dipped beneath the band of Hetty’s skirt to help get everything situated.

Hetty lightly laughed, “You know I am plenty comfortable with that.” She joked, lightening the mood ever so slightly. 

“Well I am still going to check,” Winifred said as she finished smoothing the shirt down. “Because I never want to do anything to make you uncomfortable.” She was looking back up at Hetty and let her hand find Hetty’s cheek, “I mean that. I care about you and I want to make sure you are comfortable.” 

Hetty couldn’t find the words to respond, just nod her head as she unfolded the bodice and presented it to Winifred. It was that same help around her body so her arms were in properly, Winifred slowly buttoning upwards making sure everything was sitting correctly. All the way up to the neckline where she helped adjust the collar and repin her broach. 

“There, a proper lady again.” Winifred said, smoothing her hands over Hetty’s shoulders. “You know, I had a dress similar to this, though it was more green. And mine did not have the apron front.” Winifred said, letting her hands slide down Hetty’s arms so their fingers were intertwined. 

“You had a dress like this?” Hetty was intrigued by the notion of Winifred wearing anything of any other style than the slim waisted skirt and intricate bodice she had always known her in. 

Of course.” Winifred said with a bit more pep in her voice, “I loved being in current fashions, and when I got married layered skirts and bustle pads were still all the rage.” 

Hetty tried to imagine what Winifred must have looked like on her wedding day. She could only imagine it must have been happier than her own. She could imagine Winifred happily dancing and being merry. Though she still wore her high waisted skirt and decorated straw hat. 

Sass and Pete sat in the living room having a lively debate on pizza pockets. It had been a few days since the incident and things had gone back to mostly normal, other than the holiday induced anxiety that caused Sam to be anxiously buying gifts off of amazon trying to find the right ones for Jay’s family. Leaving box after box scattered around the house. 

“I think the ham and cheese is a stable classic, there is nothing that can go wrong with a ham and cheese.” Pete said, presenting his case. 

“Okay but hear me out…” Sass stopped for a dramatic pause, “Pepperoni pizza.” And Pete did think it was a compelling argument. 

Hetty and Winifred came down the stairs, whispering with one another. Both Pete and Sass stopped their debate to see if they could eavesdrop on anything, but both of them brought their whispering to a close as they approached the bottom of the stairs. 

“Sasappis. Peter.” Winifred said simply while looking over to Hetty, as if waiting for something. 

“Peter. Sasappis.” Hetty added before taking the lead as they walked towards the kitchen, and as soon as they walked into the next room Pete and Sass could tell they were giggly and chatting as soon as they were out of clear earshot. 

Pete felt a pit drop in his stomach. “That didn’t mean anything, right?” He had grown more and more worried of whatever type of plot they had stirring against him. 

Though unlike Trevor, Sass wasn’t going to try to make it seem less bad than it obviously was. Anyone could tell. The way they snuck around, the way they whispered to each other, their switching rooms was obviously a ploy to have more time to plot and scheme, Sass had seen them walk out of rooms trying to seem inconspicuous though it was anything but. And the worst part was, no one in the house could figure out what kind of thing they were planning, it was obviously something though. Everyone had things that they had done that might warrant either woman to maybe try to strike some revenge, but everyone had their money on Pete for being the one they would choose to bear the most misfortune. And there was no way for Sass to say that kindly. “Sorry dude, I’m pretty sure that means your fucked.” 

Chapter Text

New years was approaching fast and Woodstone hustled and bustled with guests. For once since they opened Sam and Jay were starting to feel like they had not made a financially horrible decision. For the first time in a long time they felt like they could breathe even if they were drowning in guests. They would rather be drowning in guests than drowning in late fees on bills. 

With inclimate weather all of the ghosts were inside nearly all the time. And even if it was a bit crowded, the guests gave the ghosts some much needed entertainment. Hetty and Isaac made rolling commentary on how many of the guests would have never survived without electricity, even if sometimes Hetty wondered how she ever lived without it. Though Winifred joined them now with their commentary, citing the fact that she never lived in a house with electricity as justification enough for her to join in. Technically she had more of a precedence to be there than Hetty. But even if Isaac tried to keep her out, Hetty would have vouched for her just to have her around. 

She liked having Winifred around, she genuinely enjoyed her company, and not just in the way that she was beautiful and soft and honestly not too bad of a kisser, she enjoyed her company in the sense that when Winifred was in the room she knew there was someone who understood. Yes she knew Isaac would understand to some degree, but it was still different. Isaac was her best friend, but there was enough time between them that some things just did not translate. She had also known Isaac for so long that at moments it felt like they had known each other forever, and she would know him for as long as she still continued to exist. 

Winifred on the other hand had no vested interest in keeping in good graces, in lessening the pain of eternity, she would have had every right to hold that grudge for as long as time would let her. But instead she smiled at Hetty softly, lightly touching her arm and excusing herself as a lost bet resulted in her ‘getting the honor,’ of watching the Cutting Edge with Trevor. 

Hetty wasn’t hiding it, watching Winifred like a lovesick poet as she left the room. If she had something to write with she would write her a poem, or at least try, she made Hetty want to try. “I think one of the best decisions Jay ever made was getting the gramophone.” Hetty didn’t know if she could hide it if she tried. 

“You have become very fond of her, haven’t you?” Isaac said almost like a tease, and very quickly Hetty knew she was very capable of keeping things to herself. She did not want to feel like a fool because of the passions of her heart. 

“We have grown very close.” Though she would not deny it. 

Isaac still saw their closeness with a grain of salt, preparing for the worst, “You spend an awful lot of time together,” but he still wanted to give Hetty any amount of doubt that she wasn’t conspiring against everyone else. 

“I’ve come to greatly enjoy her company.” 

“What about her company do you enjoy so greatly?” Isaac asked, hoping she would give him anything to work with. 

“Her.” Hetty said simply. “I have grown fond of her as a person. Is that so outlandish to believe? That I would possibly get along with someone like her so well?” Hetty asked back. 

It was not the answer Isaac was looking for. Most of the other ghosts saw him as the only possibility at finding out what was happening on the inside of the Hetty-Winifred scheme. “So you have completely accepted her as part of life at Woodstone?”

The question caught Hetty off guard, “Accept? I welcome her. I invite her to stay. I don’t want there to be another day at Woodstone without her.” It sounded dramatic but she spoke from the heart. And Isaac was her best friend, he deserved the truth. 

Though to Isaac it seemed like Hetty was trying to over sell it. Even if she seemed genuine. Even if he could tell something was brighter in her eyes as she spoke. “If I didn’t know any better Hetty I would think you were in love with her.” 

“I am.” Hetty did not give any more explanation.

“Right, just like you love me?” Isaac asked. He had said it as more of a joke than anything, but now he looked at the woman who had been his friend for over a hundred years and wondered how much he actually knew about her. 

“Oh Isaac,” Hetty said sarcastically doting, “You have nothing to worry about with Winifred, you will still always be my best friend. Now, shall we go rescue her from the Cutting Edge?” Hetty offered before making her way up the stairs. Leaving Isaac more confused than anything. He didn’t know how much he believed that they were conspiring anymore, but the alternative that Hetty had gone from absolute hatred to utter adornment seemed far too outlandish. 

All the ghosts were excited for new years. Though maybe they just liked a good party. 

“Trevor, make sure you get my songs on the playlist,” Alberta said as they all gathered around the iPad as Trevor tried his hardest to sneak some songs into Sam’s New Years Eve playlist. 

“Narrow it down to three, preferably one, I’m not getting all ten on there.” Trevor said doing everything in his power to not start accidentally playing a song. 

“Oh! Can you put Bobby Darin in there for me?” Pete added. 

“The ‘Behind the Sea’ guy?” Trevor asked with only a slightly judgmental look. 

“Hey, you remembered,” Pete could care less about the judgment and more appreciated the fact that Trevor remembered a fact he told him, “but not ‘Behind the Sea,’ do the fire one.” 

“The fire one?” Trevor had no idea what he was supposed to be looking for. 

“Yeah, the fire one! He has a mustache!” Pete could hear the song in his head and vividly see the album art but couldn’t remember the name. 

“I’m not seeing any fire one.” 

“Fine,” Pete was only minorly disappointed. “Just do Splish Splash.” 

“Thor wants dubstep.”

“Bangerang for Thor…” Trevor said as he slowly worked on getting the songs added. 

“The submarine song!” Flower yelled out in excitement. 

Trevor knew exactly what song she was talking about, “Hey Pete,” he half whispered, “You think she’ll notice if I switch it out with a better Beatles song?” 

“Just put Yellow Submarine on there.” Pete urged. 

“Fine,” Trevor was focusing as hard as he could, “Yellow Submarine for Flower, Alberta what did you decide on?” 

“Beyoncé, dealers choice.” She said triumphantly. 

“Single Ladies for Alberta, Sexy and I Know It for me,” said to himself as he tried to get the songs in, “Hey Sass, want song you want for New Years?” Trevor yelled out.

“Tequila!” was yelled back. 

“Tequila for Sass.” 

“Oh are we doing song requests for tonight?” Isaac said as he wandered into the room. 

“Get them in quick because I have been working very hard on this and want to no longer be working on this.” Trevor urged. 

“The Star Spangled Banner!” He said triumphantly. 

“NO!” Was said almost unanimously by the group. 

Isaac just rolled his eyes, “You are all no fun,” He said before leaving the room again. 

“Do party in the USA for Isaac, I think he would appreciate it.” Alberta didn’t want him to feel completely left out. 

“Par-tay in the U.S. of A for Isaac,” Trevor nodded at his hard work, “Hetty, Winifred, speak now or forever hold your peace, what jams do you want for tonight?” 

Hetty and Winifred both looked at each other and shrugged, neither of them being familiar enough with enough contemporary music to just pick a song. “Something to dance to?” 

“Oh! Do ABBA, Man after Midnight, that's fun to dance to and it’s thematic.” Pete offered as an option. 

Trevor just nodded, “gimme gimme a man after midnight for Winifred, okay, Hetty, last call,” 

All eyes were on her and she didn’t know what to pick, “Really Trevor, this seems trivial,” She said just trying to get the question to go away. 

“Pick something or I’ll pick for you.” He said thinking that would get her to give an answer, but Hetty just crossed your arms, “I am telling everyone you requested Hot to Go then.” Trevor said as he got the last few songs added. “There, and I don’t think Sam would be any wiser that we put in our music choices.” Trevor said like it was not an extremely eclectic collection of songs. 

Later that night the new years party started and any time one of the ghost songs came on it threw Sam and Jay for a loop. “When was the last time you remember listening to Skrillex?” Jay asked at one point in time. 

“I guess right now,” Maybe Sam had had a few too many glasses of wine, or she just decided not to care, but the ghost songs stayed in the mix. Most of the editions were appreciated by the living patrons of the party, especially Tequila after people had already had a few drinks. 

Winifred’s favorite part was the dancing, she had been called a free spirit for so much of her life like a backhanded insult, occasionally as just who she was, but when Hetty said it, “you are just such a free spirit,” Winifred would swear it was a compliment. 

“Come dance with me,” she said, pulling Hetty up to dance from where she was seated. Though Hetty stood stiffly and awkwardly in her arms. 

“I am not much of a dancer,” Hetty tried to excuse herself. 

“Here,” Winifred was getting them in position to waltz, one of Winifred’s hands at her waist, “I can lead then.” 

Hetty did know how though she hadn’t in a very long time. Even in her life she had not danced maybe as much as she should have.  Far too often the thought of being flung around a room from man to man sounded like an ill-fitting nightmare. “I am very out of practice,” Hetty worried. 

“I’ve got you,” Winifred said as their steps sped up in time to the music. Hetty tried to relax, though she still worried about her feet catching on Winifred's, leaving her stiff and looking down. “Just look at me,” Winifred said softly, “Just look at me and I won’t let you fall.” 

It was easy for Hetty to look up, it was easy to listen to Winifred’s voice and take it as sincere, it was easy to fall in love. And they really weren’t hiding anything. The way Winifred held her waist and Hetty let herself settle comfortably into Winifred’s arm. The way they moved around the room at a nearly alarming rate. People forget how fast a waltz can be. The way they whispered and giggled like any properly flirtatious couple should. Though others were preoccupied with their own dancing, their own little conversations, so maybe they just didn’t see when the song ended and Hetty did trip, but she did not fall to the ground, Winifred caught her in a dip before getting her back on her feet. 

“I did not know you were such a proficient dancer,” Hetty said, catching her breath as she rocked back and forth on her feet. 

“I guess I just have not had enough opportunities to properly dance with you.” And maybe Winifred would have leaned in to kiss Hetty if the yelling of the next songs lyrics had not started, startling them both. Though it was all in good fun, it was still loud, it was loud and there were lots of people, both living and ghosting. “Does it feel like there are so many more people now than there were when the party started?” Winifred asked, looking out to the growing crowd. 

There were, the word quickly spread about the supposedly all you could drink New Years Bash at Woodstone B&B, making the house get fuller and more lively by the moment. “Most definitely.” Not as much space to dance or even exist. “Here,” she said, grabbing Winifred’s hand, “I know where we can go dance,” lightly pulling her towards the stairs and Winifred happily followed. Followed through the locked door leading to a room that had become comfortably theirs. 

They could hear the music still thumping through the ground, some sort of anthem of ‘party rock,’ but they swayed slowly in each others arms. 

“I’ve almost been here a year,” Winifred said as Hetty laid her head on Winifred’s shoulder. “I don’t know what I’m going to do come April.” 

“Well for my sake I hope you stay.” Hetty said, letting her arms wrap completely around her. “Though, maybe that is selfish for me to ask that of you.” They had become more than comfortable in each others embrace, it did not come with that same anxious novelty, it came with a comfortable return to a warmth they both knew. 

“I don’t see why I would leave,” Winifred said, “I more mean, that’s an entire year, I haven’t been around for an entire year in so long, what do I do when I reach it?” She asked in all sincerity. 

“We start another one.” Hetty slowly twirled Winifred, as they started their year together. Fireworks starting to go off outside, causing them both to look to the window. A technicolor display across both of their faces. “Happy New Year, my dear,” the words came so naturally out of her mouth, like she had said them a thousand times, like she could say them a thousand more. 

“Happy New Year,” Winifred kissed Hetty softly, an action that was practically habit. Both of them had lost count how many kisses they shared, neither of them felt any nerves anymore, just softness and closeness and welcoming comforting warmth. Hetty’s hands were well on their way of memorizing every stitch and seam and hem of Winifred’s bodice and skirt, both inside and out. Kisses trailing wherever they could, a comfortable and familiar experience, one that they both deeply enjoyed. Things practiced and tried until they didn’t stumble anymore, until they knew what they liked, what the other liked, until every anxious nerve was just excitement. 

Winifred laid back on the bed, they had figured out certain strategies for what could be taken off and what had to stay on. A lot of trial and error and practice. Hetty had become far more comfortable like this, leaning over Winifred with their bodices unbuttoned, hands making sure everything felt the same as before. “can you help me with my shirtwaist?” Hetty asked, leaving kisses around her ear. 

“How much help?” Winifred asked, starting to loosen it but not wanting to make Hetty uncomfortable.

She didn’t necessarily like that part of her open to the world, but she did like Winifred’s skin against hers, and she could learn to live through the uncomfortable if it meant she was rewarded with feeling Winifred’s hands and lips. “As much as you can,” Hetty said. She felt vulnerable and exposed but she trusted Winifred to see her like that. She trusted Winifred to hold her carefully, love her passionately, to see all of the parts of her that Hetty herself hated and still choose to stay. 

The shirtwaist was slowly unbuttoned and gently pushed off her shoulders and folded and put away in a place where hopefully Hetty didn’t have to worry about it returning to its original home. That took practice and trial and error, the act of keeping clothes off a skill in its own right. Winifred laid beneath her in a similar state of undress, lips parted and looking up at her with eyes that begged for attention. Hetty almost felt overwhelmed by the beauty, by the desire, by the reciprocation. 

“I love when you look at me like that,” Winifred said leaning up to steal a kiss. 

“Like what,” Hetty followed it with a few more. 

“Like you're utterly, stupidly, gorgeously in love with me.” Winifred said with a giggle. 

Hetty descended to bury Winifred in as many kisses as her lips could give, “it’s because I am.” 

Kisses ran across Winifred’s shoulders and collarbones and anywhere Hetty could reach, and then some. “After you bit me did you ever think you would be in this situation.” 

Hetty giggled and leaned against her, “I am never going to live that down, am I?” 

“Absolutely not.” Winifred joined in on the laughter. 

“At least let me make up for it, okay?” Hetty said as more kisses were being deposited over her. 

Winifred adored the attention, she adored the closeness, she adored Hetty, “you spoil me, spoil me rotten.” Winifred leaned into the touches. 

“I’m not spoiling you,” Hetty assured. “I am giving you the attention you deserve.” 

Pete had grown more anxious over the past few weeks. He tried to interact with them so he didn’t seem like he was avoiding them but he felt like he was always watching his back. Trying to figure out if the slightly hostile moments were intentional against him or if that was just both womens stern nature. 

New Years Eve was no different, he tried to help with the music but at the back of his mind all he could do was worry about what they were planning. That felt like torture in its own right. The waiting for it to come. 

He watched them at New Years, “come on, loosen up, they’re just old timey dancing.” Trevor told Pete trying to get him to stop worrying about it for at least the night. 

“The moment I put my guard down, they’re going to strike. I just know it. I must stay vigilant.” Pete said, trying to focus in. 

“Come on Pete, it’s almost midnight,” Trevor whined. 

Pete watched as Hetty and Winifred were slipping out of the room and up the stairs, “I can’t let my guard down.” Pete said before he began to follow them at a distance. There were enough people in the house that he thought he could go unnoticed, though upstairs there was practically no one. So he had to be more sneaky as he followed. He watched them walk into their room and slowly but surely he made his way towards the door. Midnight came and went and he would occasionally hear a word of phrase from them. He knew what he was doing was irrational, past irrational, but it was the only thing he could think to do to calm his nerves. 

Pete stood there for a long time, most of the noise he heard was the party downstairs, he felt like anything he had heard from the room had gone completely quiet. He wondered if they had left. Walked into another room from the inside, they had not left through the hallway. He thought that maybe he could check to see if they were still in the room, though that felt like spying. But was it spying if he didn’t think they were in the room in the first place? He was just checking to see if the room was empty, he wasn’t spying on them. 

Pete hesitantly stuck his head into the room, hoping for his own sake the room was empty, because if it wasn’t this was a really bad look for him. It was an even worse look for him when he saw far more of Hetty then he ever wanted to see. “Oh no.” He said in utter fear. 

Hetty turned and saw Pete’s head poking through the door, and lifted up her arms to cover up the small amount of cleavage that was showing out of the top of her corset and as much of her shoulders and her neck that she was physically capable of. “Peter! What the hell are you doing!” She yelled at him as both her and Winifred scrambled to cover up as much of themselves as they could. Neither of them were that exposed under modern standards, but both of them had been raised with the idea that their shoulders and legs were just as sexual as any other part of them. 

“Sorry!” Pete said, stepping back and pulling his head out of the room. 

“Peter you better get back in this room unless you want that arrow where the sun can never shine!” Hetty yelled and Pete quickly stepped back into the room in complete and utter silence. Hetty and Winifred had both properly sat up now, “Stop gawking.” Hetty said sternly, and Pete quickly turned and faced the wall. 

Hetty and Winifred both got dressed in the quickest way possible, dropping their loose clothing items to the ground and letting them reinstate themselves on their bodies. It didn’t leave things perfect, Winifred helped Hetty with her shirt collar and made sure everything was tucked away properly, Hetty made sure Winifreds bodice laid flat, it gave them both a moment to breathe before they fixed their skirts and sat on the bed as if nothing scandalous had ever happened. 

“You can turn around now, we are both presentable.” Hetty said, and Pete turned around in utter shock and fear. “What the hell were you doing! I know you Peter, I know you are not a peeping tom.” Hetty yelled trying her best not to completely lose her cool. 

“I didn’t think you were in here!” Pete pleaded. 

“Why were you looking into our room in the first place?” Winifred held onto Hetty’s hand in an attempt to calm her down. 

Pete fiddled with his hands. “I thought you two were conspiring some sort of revenge against me, and with everything that's happened recently… you two were acting really suspicious, whispering, sneaking around, a lot of times when you two would walk into a room it would seem like you two were hiding something, plus you have been spending so much time together, asking to share a room, everyone figured out you two were planning something.” He explained, and as he explained he looked at the two women sitting on the bed holding hands. And it all clicked in his mind, actually clicked this time. “You two aren’t plotting revenge for us forcing you two to spend time together, are you?” 

“No Peter.” Winifred said, “we actually enjoy each other's company.” 

Pete thought about it from that perspective, they were not sneaking around and conspiring ghost torture methods, they were having rendezvous and trying to be inconspicuous. “Why didn’t you just tell everyone that?” He asked. 

“Well for one, it's not really our job to tell them things we don’t want everyone involved in, for two, we didn’t know that everyone thought that we were plotting an evil plan.” Hetty was getting upset again even as Winifred tried to calm her. “You are to not speak of this.” She said towards him. 

“What, why? Why are you guys keeping it a secret? You know no one is going to judge you for it.” Pete tried to argue, but Hetty was standing up and cornering him in the room. Sure, he could walk through the wall, but he knew that would just cause more problems. 

“We are not keeping it a secret, we sit together on the couch and we were dancing together earlier tonight. If someone asked I would not deny it, though I am not going to rush to tell everyone about our more private interactions.” Hetty said in a near frenzy. 

“So why can’t I tell anyone?” Pete asked. 

Hetty took a deep breath, “If everyone thinks that we have some sort of revenge plot going on I do not want them to find out that is false because you saw us in a very compromising position. Do you know how humiliating that is? Not only learning that all of your friends thought that you were planning a revenge plot for close to a year, but also having the incident that makes it clear to them that is not the case is someone walking in when you and your lover are practically half naked.” Hetty finally walked away and Pete felt like he could breathe. 

Hetty paced slightly back and forth until Winifred stood up next to her. “It’s going to be okay,” she said in a calming voice. 

“Peter, if you tell anyone about anything you saw in this room there will be a revenge plot against you,” Hetty said with about as demanding of a presence as she was capable of. “And it will be brutal and never ending.” 

Pete nodded in full agreement. He could keep a secret. Maybe. “Fully understood, I’m going to leave now.” He said with a squeak before Hetty shooed him off with her hand and he ran out of the room. 

Chapter Text

Despite the confusion around the nature of the New Years party, it had been a massive success. While they had lost quite a bit in ways of booze, they had a jackpot of free advertising and had bookings well into the summer. Sam and Jay were practically jumping for joy, and all of the ghosts tried to be happy for them, but the first thing they wanted to do was plan a vacation. They had already blocked two weeks out after new years to have a little break, but originally they were just going to have a ‘staycation’ but now they were scrambling. 

“Is it really that good of an idea to be taking a fancy vacation before you have even gotten the money?” Isaac asked, watching over Sam’s shoulder 

“I understand your concern Isaac, but I am going to take one out of Trevor’s book for this,” Sam said as she pressed ‘purchase’ on the Hawaii plane tickets. 

“Do a bunch of drugs, give your pants to a random man, and promptly die of a heart attack?” Isaac asked in slight confusion. 

Sam turned to look at him, “no, live big and live fast.” 

“When has Trevor ever said that?” Isaac questioned. 

“It feels like something he would say.” Sam argued. 

“Hetty,” Isaac called towards her as she walked past the doorway, “Do you think Trevor would say, ‘live big, live fast’?” He said with accompanying hand motions. 

Hetty walked into the room, “No.” she said simply. “He would say something far more stupid.” She looked around a little bit, “have either of you seen Winifred?” She asked. 

“I’m surprised she’s not attached to your hip,” Isaac joked and Hetty just rolled her eyes. 

“A bunch of the ghosts are out back in the restaurant watching Jay reorganize the pantry.” Sam said as she closed the laptop. “I should go tell Jay the good news.” 

“Sam and Jay are going to Hawaii to celebrate all the bookings they got.” Isaac said to fill her in. 

Hetty waved her finger, “Samantha, you know you shouldn’t count your chickens before they hatch.” 

“Jay and I deserve a vacation, a real vacation.” Sam said getting up and walking out towards the restaurant leaving just Isaac and Hetty. 

“Not running off to Winifred?” He teased. 

“Do you really have that big of an issue with it if I do?” Hetty asked. 

Isaac smiled, “Not at all! I think it’s adorable that you have a crush.” 

Hetty felt embarrassment rise through her. Is that how it looked? Like she only had a crush?

“I see the way you look at her, and with all that time you spend together with your plotting you were bound to grow close.” He continued. 

Though his statement rang warning bells in her mind, “With our what?” She was well aware of the others' thoughts on the matter, she knew about the revenge plot theory, but she wanted to hear it from his mouth.

Now Isaac was the one who was trying to change the conversation, he had also been a believer in Trevor’s revenge theory, but he took it a step further, he had convinced himself that Hetty must have, in the process of plotting and planning, gained a special appreciation for Winifred, an affection for her, though Isaac thought that Hetty was keeping it to herself, he had not figured out yet that it went both ways and then some. But it was so entwined with their non-existent plotting in his head that he did not know how to mention one without mentioning the other one. “Oh, nothing, nothing, nothing.” He said, shaking his head, “Maybe we should go check out that exciting pantry reorganizing.” He gestured for them to go towards the restaurant. 

Sam and Jay were excitedly packing for their trip. It had been so long since they had been on a proper vacation. Sam knew she would still see ghosts, but this was not a trip with the purpose of that. This was a trip for her and Jay to relax. 

“Mark will be by the house a few times while we are gone, but other than that you guys should have the place to yourselves.” Sam explained to the ghosts. 

“What if there are intruders? Can Trevor slap them like he slapped Jay?” Thor asked. 

“If someone breaks in, Trevor can text me.” Sam said, “We are leaving Jay’s iPad plugged in on the counter but only text us if there is an actual emergency please?” Sam said. 

“Maybe we should just get the ghosts their own iPad, we could list it as a business expense, say it is the business iPad.” Jay offered, all the ghosts thought it was a great idea, but Sam feared what they could accomplish if they actually had access to their own technology. 

“Does Mark know to leave the lights on? And to leave the iPad on? And all the other things that make it not boring to exist?” Pete asked, probably the most relevant questions asked so far. 

“Yes, we are leaving Mark a list of things that he may see around the house that are strange but are like that on purpose, including the TVs being on, the iPad being on, and the lights being on.” Sam assured them. “Now, please don’t make a mess while we are gone.” She asked as they finished collecting their bags and started packing the car. All of the ghosts followed them outside. 

“We’re ghosts, how are we supposed to make a mess of things?” Trevor asked far too innocently, and Sam just gave him a stern eye. 

“I know you are all capable of a lot,” She said. 

“Babe, if we want to make the flight we have to leave right now,” Jay said, starting the car. 

“Okay, you all be good, thank you Pete for helping us with the trip, we will see you all in ten days!” Sam called out as they started to drive down the driveway, all of the ghosts waving them off. 

The first few days were business as usual, though Trevor was in hot demand. Sam and Jay had left the television on in their bedroom as well so that the ghosts had more options and would hopefully argue less, but that meant Trevor went back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. 

Mark had come and was fixing some things, listening to the notes Sam had left him, though he found it strange that they would just leave everything on all of the time. He had wondered why their electric bill was so high, but if this is how they left the house every time they went out of town it made a lot of sense. 

Mark was getting ready to leave when Winifred saw him in the foyer, deciding to start playing the record as a practical joke of sorts. It more than startled him, leaving him jumping backwards and stumbling to the ground and Winifred snickering to herself. It was slow going, but she was finally starting to feel like herself again, feel like she was her own person again. She laughed and joked and danced and embraced that childhood criticism of being a ‘free spirit,’ the snow still bothered her, but it was not the same snow. She could not feel it burn her skin from its coldness, it did not soak her clothes, she did not leave footprints in it like some sort of string to be pulled. The snow still bothered her but she had friends to distract her. She could ask Sam to close the blinds. Hetty would hold her hand and promise to not leave her side. And all of that made the moments where she was alone possible to bear. 

Mark got off the ground and took a look at the gramophone, “This thing is so creepy.” He said, and as he said it Winifred stopped the record. The placard on the wall above it read: 

‘I am a genuine 1903 hand-crank gramophone! I am extremely delicate and play music at random times! If you are finding that this is disturbing your stay please speak to your hosts and we will help resolve the issue.’ 

Though no guest had ever complained about the issue, most of them thought it was neat. “It has to be plugged in somewhere,” Sam and Jay always explained it as being a tension issue and sometimes it just releases and plays, though unlike the guests, Mark never bought the story, he thought it must be a gimmick of some sort.

Mark thoroughly inspected the gramophone before he carefully lifted the record off, “This thing must be ancient,” As he looked at it, his phone rang, startling him enough to drop the record, and Winifred just looked at it shattered on the ground. “Shit,” He muttered before answering his phone, “Hey Sam, how’s Hawaii?” He asked, though Winifred tuned out most of the conversation as she just stared at the broken record on the floor. 

She just stood there, staring, as Mark spoke on the phone, “Yup, everything is good here, just got done fixing that tile in the bathroom, should all be water tight now.” He soon hung up the phone and was scrambling to get it cleaned up. The record being picked up and put into a paper bag. The box of other records that had been collected by other owners over the years still sat underneath, and Mark was quick to pull one out and replace it on the gramophone, nodding to himself in satisfaction, “Sam and Jay will never know, I will just give them a deal on the tile.” He said before he grabbed the paper bag full of broken record and left. 

Winifred looked around to see if anyone else saw, and no one did, no one was around, and she thought to herself what she should do. Her final days as a ghost, part of her knew it would come eventually, that someday the record would stop spinning or they would get separated, but she always thought that that would happen when she was already gone. She thought that it would be business as usual until one day she just wouldn’t reappear. She didn’t think she would know it was the end. She thought about Hetty, she thought about her smile, she thought about how other than the situation from New Years she had seemed so happy as of late, and if she only had two more days she didn’t want to see that go away. 

Chapter Text

Winifred felt like she should have told Hetty, but there was nothing that could be done. She had made her bed, now it was time to lie in it. And she could not break Hetty’s heart to tell her she might not be there by morning. So she tried to have a normal day, she tried to just enjoy her little bit of time left, though she sat a little closer, held onto her arm a little tighter, tried to enjoy her presence as much as she could. 

It had taken Winifred months to get over the anxiety of the disk being taken off the gramophone. Though she still anxiously played it for far longer than a few months. It had been her reassurance that she was here to stay, now it was gone, and she had to be okay with it whether she wanted to be or not. 

So she held onto Hetty’s hand like it was the only thing that kept her from floating away. “We should go on a walk,” Winifred said, even if there was still snow. It was her last day in this plane of existence and she could not let her past anxieties keep her from enjoying their time together one last time. 

“Are you sure?” Hetty asked as she watched Winifred gaze outside. 

“I miss our walks.” She looked back at Hetty, with a smile she tried to keep from looking too sad. “Won't you join me on a stroll through the garden?” Winifred said in an over dramatic gesture. Maybe if she just pretended it wasn’t the end it wouldn’t be. 

Hetty giggled and smiled at her, big eyes that were in love with the woman she was looking at. “Who am I to deny you a walking companion,” She said with a nearly stupid smile. Giving Winifred her arm as they made their way outside. 

Isaac and Pete watched as they started their walk, “Do you not see it? Look at them, Hetty looks at her like she is the world,” Isaac tried to argue to him. 

Though Pete already knew the truth, he also knew Hetty’s threat. And while he did not particularly enjoy his arrow, he would rather have it in his neck as opposed to other places. Now that he knew it was obvious, the way they giggled and leaned against each other. Sure, someone could argue that they were ‘just close friends,’ but those same people would look at the fact that they were so eagerly  roommates and say that's all they were. “I don’t know,” he said. Hetty had said that they didn’t care if people knew, but he by no means wanted to be contributing to people finding out. “Maybe they are just good friends.” 

“And what if they are more than that? I mean, they did dance together at New Years.” Isaac argued. 

Pete did not like lying, but he liked not being ghost tortured more. “Don’t you think if there was something going on between them Hetty would have told you.” Pete just wanted to get back to his Star Trek as soon as possible. 

Isaac on the other hand, still was unconvinced. “At the very least I think Hetty has it bad for her,” He said, finally walking away from the window. 

Hetty and Winifred had not walked the grounds like this in a long time. Winifred just held tightly onto Hetty’s arm as they strolled. “It’s alright.” Hetty would reassure her. “I won’t let you be alone.” 

“You really are far too sweet to me,” Winifred said as they made it to the far side of the lake, the bench covered in snow that had melted and refrozen who knows how many times. 

Hetty fanned out her skirt so Winifred had a little more insulation from the cold. “I think you deserve to be treated with kindness.” Hetty said as Winifred sat next to her. 

“You mean the world to me Hetty, I hope you know that.” Winifred said as she pulled off her hat and leaned against Hetty, Hetty’s arm finding a comfortable spot around her. “It is sad we spent so long bickering, we could have had this sooner.” 

“We have it now, and as long as we please from now on.” Hetty said, leaving a kiss on her head.

Winifred let herself sit a little closer. “I never knew I could be this.” she said as she let her full weight lean against Hetty. 

“Be what?” Hetty asked softly, speaking into her hair. 

“Happy.” Content would have probably been a better word, because she was the farthest thing from happy, but she was at least happy in the grand scheme of things. 

Hetty was leaving kisses in her hair and against her temple and forehead until Winifred was giggling. Wrapped her arms around her waist and continued to leave quick short kisses all over her cheeks and her nose until she was properly laughing. Though it all came to a screeching halt when Winifred dropped her hat and it zipped right back up, hitting Hetty in the face in the process. 

“Oh my darling,” Winifred said, holding Hetty’s face in her hands, “Are you alright?”

“I will survive.” Hetty let her head rest completely in her hands, a smile still plastered across her face. 

Winifred let her thumbs run over Hetty’s cheeks. “Is there anything I can do to make it better?” She asked. 

“Maybe a kiss would help?” Hetty said, and Winifred was leaning in to kiss where the hat had hit her. “Maybe one on the lips too? Just as a cautionary measure.” She added and Winifred couldn’t help but smile. 

“Yes, as a cautionary measure.” She said before bringing Hetty’s face to hers and kissing her softly. Something that was so easy to do. Something she was trying not to think about missing. She wouldn’t miss it. She wouldn’t even have the ability to miss it. And somehow that felt worse. 

They strolled around the grounds some more, and Winifred just tried to reminisce, tried to hold everything in her mind as sacred, tried to take it all in one last time. “I can’t wait for the spring, we should ask Sam to put a picnic blanket out in the yard so that we have something to sit on,” Hetty said as they slowly started making their way back to the house. 

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Winifred felt guilty as she said it, though she did think it was a wonderful idea. She just would not be there to partake. 

“You know, that was a nearly exhausting walk, we have not walked that long in ages, what are your opinions on a short nap?” Hetty said as they made their way back into the house. 

Winifred just smiled, “A nap sounds lovely.” 

Winifred couldn’t sleep though, she just held Hetty in her arms, caressing her gently and kissing her occasionally, she would hate to wake her up but she would need to explain before she was gone. She didn’t want to just abandon her without warning. She did not feel that same anxious dread that had always come with knowing she was going to disappear. Now she just held onto Hetty and wished they had more time. 

Hetty looked up at her with sleepy eyes, “Hello sleeping beauty,” Winifred said before Hetty dropped her head back into Winifred’s chest, eliciting another giggle. “Oh come on, let me see that lovely face.” And Hetty looked up at her with a smile. “Has anyone ever told you that you are a very handsome woman?” 

The smile on Hetty’s face grew as she leaned forward to give her a kiss, “a few times,” She said between kisses, “And the lady who tells me is even quite the looker herself.” Like this it was easy to forget, it was easy for Winifred to be lost in Hetty’s touch and attention and kisses, it was easy to pretend that it wasn’t the end. Though Winifred was becoming increasingly aware that it was. She could feel the space where one of her feet used to be slowly become empty. And she knew she only had so much time left before it ate her away into nothingness. 

She could feel Hetty’s hands creeping up her waist and wished they had the time to be like this for a little longer, but death waited for no one. And Winifred knew this far too well. It didn’t even wait for her to make it out the door. “Hetty,” She said solemnly as she slightly pulled away. 

Hetty picked up on it quickly, not the time to get handsy, though that was not an issue. But she saw it in Winifreds face, some sort of deep sorrow that she was unsure she had ever seen before. “What’s wrong?” She quickly asked, sitting up by her side. 

Winifred sat up and took Hetty’s hands into her own, “I didn’t want to worry you, so that was why I did not tell you when it happened, but when Mark was here he took my disk off the gramophone.” Hetty’s face fell into deep concern as she squeezed Winifreds hands. “He put a different one on.” 

“So we just need to get it back on, right?” Hetty said, her mind was already going a million miles an hour. “We can go talk to Trevor, he can message Sam, we can fix it, it will be okay, I promise.” Hetty said it frantically getting off the bed and walking towards the door. 

“Hetty,” Winifred called out, “I don’t want to interrupt Samantha’s and Jay’s vacation.” 

“I still think we should loop her in, I think this counts as an emergency.” Hetty moved to leave again. 

“Hetty,” Winifred called out again, and Hetty stopped to look at her, “It’s already too late,” She pulled up the hem of her dress to reveal where her foot no longer was. 

“Then I will go get Trevor to message Sam, and she will probably be able to ask Mark to come back over and put it back on. I promise, we can fix this,” Hetty was ready to jump into action, to get the ball rolling. 

“Hetty!” Her name was called again as she started to leave the room. “I don't want to be alone.” Winifred begged. “Please don’t let me disappear alone.” Winifred tried to hold back the tears, but a few sniffles slipped through, and Hetty was right there next to her on the bed holding her in her arms. “I don’t want to do this alone.” 

Hetty held her close, “I won’t let you do this alone.” Hetty was trying to stay strong, trying to be someone for Winifred to lean on, though that proved difficult. But she persisted. 

“I’m sorry for crying, I have done this so many times before, you would think that I am used to it.” Winifred sniffled. 

Hetty just rubbed her back, “Never apologize for being scared,” Hetty knew she would be scared out of her mind if her and Winifred’s places were switched, “You have every right to be.” 

Winifred nodded and just let herself be held. Tried to take deep breaths and just focus on Hetty’s arms around her. She didn’t know if it was good or bad that once she started fading she would be gone within an hour. It was good because she didn’t have to drag out the pain, it was bad because she got that much less time. 

When her one leg was gone to her knee and her other foot started to go, Hetty moved them so they were laying down, so Winifred didn’t have to worry about falling. Hetty still held her close, repeated those same calming words that meant the world, ‘I’ve got you, I am right here, I am not going anywhere, I won’t let you be alone through this.’ 

Hetty had given her some small kisses, and she wished they had more time. She wished Winifred would have told her sooner, but she could understand her perspective, wanting everything to be okay until it was impossible to pretend it could be. She hated to see her so scared. “I am right here, alright, I will always be right here.” 

Winifred laid curled up to Hetty’s side the best she could. “Thank you, for everything Hetty,” Winifred said as she nestled head in as much as she could, her hat already pulled off and tucked under her arm. “Truly.” 

“Why of course, you know I would give you the world if I could.” Hetty said with a kiss to her forehead. And she meant every word of it. 

“I spent so much of my life hopelessly alone, and I died alone, every new place I went I was alone, even if there were people, in reality I was alone.” Hetty soothed her back as she talked. “And then I was here, and yes, we did despise each other at first. And I know it was not our decision but we sat together, every day, and you walked with me, and spent time with me, and I fell madly in love with you. Probably more in love than I had any business being, but I was, and I didn’t even fully understand why.” She had to take a pause to get her thoughts in order. Hetty just combed her fingers through her loose strands of hair. 

“You loved me in a way I did not know I could be loved in.” Winifred continued. “You loved me and told me I was deserving of that love, that it wasn’t out of the kindness out of your heart, but because that is what love should be.” Winifred was sniffling again, “Even when we did not see eye to eye you respected me enough to give me the privilege of privacy, you took that criticism for me, and you didn’t even like me,” She knew she did not have much more time, “But you loved me, you loved me and let me love you in return. You held me and kissed me and stayed with me, you gave me everything I thought were just wild pipe dreams. You gave me the moon and the stars and arms that welcomed me at any time of day. You gave me more than anyone else ever had, ever could, you gave me your heart and let me hold it close to mine, you have no idea how much everything you have done means to me.” 

Winifred wrapped her arms as tightly around Hetty as she could. “I hope you know you aren’t getting rid of me, as soon as Samantha and Jay get home I am demanding they put your record back on. Or else they will suffer the consequences.” Winifred smiled, and she did not have the heart to tell her that would not be the case. Maybe that was cruel, to withhold that information, to let Hetty think she could get her back. 

“I have never known what it means to be in love until I met you, Hetty Woodstone.” The entire time Winifred had slowly been disappearing, and she just wanted more time. “I didn’t know how to be in love, but we learned, we figured it out, and it was the most wonderful, beautiful thing I have ever experienced.” She just wanted more time, why did she have to go so fast, why couldn’t she have more time. It wasn’t fair, is this what she got for finally being loved properly? It all to be stripped away as she disappeared into oblivion? For finding somewhere she felt like could be home? It to just tauntingly force itself through her fingertips? 

“You make it easy, Winifred. To love you might as well be breathing.” Hetty nearly whispered, but the words were loud and clear. They kissed softly, softly and sadly and desperately holding onto each other until there was nothing left to hold onto. Until Hetty’s arms were empty and she felt like her heart had disappeared along with Winifred, maybe she was still holding onto it. 

Hetty couldn’t be strong anymore. She had been plenty strong but now it felt like there was a hole in her chest that could not be filled even if she tried. There was nothing, not even a hint of her left. And all Hetty could do was curl up on the bed and begin to cry. 

Chapter Text

For the first few days Hetty did not come out of their room. She just laid in bed, hands outreached to where Winifred once laid. She didn’t even know if she was awake or sleeping at some moments, all she knew was that she could wait. Even if she asked Trevor to tell Sam what happened, she would still have to wait, there was nothing she could do to fix it immediately, so it was easier to wait. Let the sun rise and set as she tried to pretend that this was all some nightmare she would awaken from. 

For the first few days no one really noticed that they were missing, but by the fourth whispers started going around about what could have possibly happened. 

“I haven’t seen Winifred in days,” Alberta whispered as a group of ghosts convened upstairs about what to do.

“Yeah, last time I saw her, she and Hetty had just gone on a stroll,” Trevor said like it was something to be suspicious of. 

“I haven’t seen Hetty either though.” Sass added. 

“Guys, maybe we shouldn’t jump to conclusions, maybe we should just go check her room?” Pete tried to offer. Everyone looked to him, like he was being voted the sacrificial lamb, “But not me! I should not be the one to do it!” He added in a panicked tone. 

“I hate to say it but I agree with Pete.” Isaac added. “And I can go check on her.” Isaac thought it would be better if he metaphorically knocked on her door versus anyone else. 

He walked down the hall to her room, standing outside the door, “Hetty?” He called into the room, hoping for a response. “Are you in there?” 

Hetty just laid in bed, and did not feel like explaining, she was almost jealous of Winifred, who got to skip all of it, didn’t have to wait through the eternity of a week. “Go away.” She called back. 

It was a relief to hear her voice, “Hetty, are you alright?” He asked. 

No, the answer was no. She felt pathetic for yearning to the point of despair. “Is Samantha home yet?” She called out. 

Isaac was not expecting that to be the question, “No, she will home in a few days.” he said. “Hetty, can I come in?” He asked. 

Hetty did not want to get up, but she did not want anyone else in the room even more. So she drug her feet under her and made her way out into the hallway. “No need.” She said, pulling a smile over her face. Isaac gave her a look of concern. Only for Hetty to make her way down the stairs. 

Isaac followed her down the stairs, “Hetty,” He asked cautiously, “Where is Winifred?” 

Hetty stopped dead in her tracks, looking over to the gramophone. Just a few more days, that’s all she had to do, just a few more days and her lamenting in bed would just be a funny story that Winifred could lightly tease her about down the road. 

But Isaac just saw her freeze, freeze and stare off into the distance. “Hetty?” He asked, cautiously approaching her and putting his hand on her shoulder. Hetty jumped slightly, snapping back to reality. “It’s okay, it’s just me,” He put his hands up in surrender, “Do you know where Winifred is?” There was always a chance she didn’t, that she didn’t even know no one had seen her. 

Hetty looked back to the gramophone, walking towards it, putting her hand on it to the best of her ability and letting out a sigh. “She is right here.” Hetty said to the best of her ability. 

It didn’t compute in Isaacs brain, and by that point all the other ghosts were snooping from the top of the stairs. “I don’t see her anywhere.” Isaac asked for more clarification. 

She didn’t want to say it again. “She is, well,” Hetty turned around to look at Isaac, and saw all the other ghosts at the top of the stairs. “She is going to be gone for a few days,” She was trying to not to seem too sad, “Apparently Mark changed the record, but I assured her that Samantha will put her record back on as soon as she returns.”  

All the other ghosts looked at each other, not knowing what to say. “Are you doing alright?” Isaac asked. 

Hetty just nodded her head, “Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” 

Hetty began to pace more and more as the days dragged on. Becoming more and more impatient for Sam and Jay’s return. 

“When are they supposed to be home?” Hetty asked as she paced back and forth in the foyer. 

“Well their flight was supposed to land at 2:45pm but Trevor told me it was delayed by 20 minutes so in theory they landed at 3:05pm, add 30 minutes to get bags from baggage claim, 15 to get to the car, and an hour and a half to drive home, they should be home any minute now.” Pete explained. Hetty just nodded. 

The house had become tense, anytime anyone asked Hetty if she was alright she just forced a smile and said she was fine. Though it was clear to everyone she wasn’t. As she paced back and forth more and more. The rest of the ghosts would go to Isaac and he would just shrug, he couldn’t make any more progress than anyone else. He just got, ‘I am fine, why wouldn’t I be fine.’ 

Pete wanted to pull Isaac to the side and tell him what he knew, because to him it made complete sense why she was going stir crazy, but he still thought she would keep good on her word if he said anything. So he just tried his best to answer her questions as she anxiously asked them. 

“How much longer do you think?” She asked again. 

Pete felt bad for her. “Unless something happened I would say within the hour.” He said and she just nodded. 

“Should I message Sam, give her a warning?” Trevor asked Pete under his breath, in hopes that Hetty wouldn’t hear. 

“That might be for the best.” Pete answered, Trevor just nodded in response and left to the kitchen. 

Though the door opened before Trevor could even start a message. 

“Samantha!” Hetty yelled as soon as the door opened. “Mark, he took Winifred’s record off the gramophone, you need to put it back on,” Winifred said all in a rush. 

“Hello to you too Hetty,” Sam said, slightly taken aback by the sudden request. “Can Jay and I put our bags down first?” She asked as she walked past Hetty and up the stairs. 

“What is going on?” Jay asked as he followed her. 

“Winifred’s record isn’t on the gramophone, apparently Mark changed it?” Sam said with a yawn. It had been a long day of travel. 

“You might want to put that record on sooner than later,” Sass tried to say to them discreetly. Sam gave him a confused look, “She won’t admit it but she has been freaking out.” 

Sam nodded, “Okay, got it.” 

“What’s going on?” Jay asked. 

“I’m going to go fix the gramophone, apparently Hetty is really worried about Winifred.” Sam said as she went to leave the room. 

“Awe. Isn’t that sweet, they used to hate each other.” Jay felt proud of himself, he was the one who brought the gramophone home. 

Sam went downstairs and knelt next to the gramophone, flipping through the records in the box. 

“Thank you so much Samantha, you know I have been so worried for her, I was with her when she disappeared, and I just want to make sure that she is okay.” The words poured out of her mouth as she anxiously waited. 

Samantha flipped through the records again, trying to find the one Winifred was connected to. “Of course, I am sure she appreciates your concern.” Sam said, but she still couldn’t find it. “Here, give me a moment,” she pulled out her phone and called Mark, other ghosts slowly inched their way into the room. “Hey Mark, you're on speaker, we just got home from the airport and this is going to be such a weird question, but there was a different disk on the gramophone when we left, do you know where that one is?” Sam asked, and Hetty felt that anxiety bubbling within her, she worried, she worried something was wrong, she tried to tell herself it was irrational, but she still worried. 

“Wow, nothing gets past you guys,” They all heard Mark say through the phone. “So, uh, I’m really sorry, I was checking it out and I accidentally dropped it and it broke all over the floor.” As Hetty heard the words it felt like the world stopped. “I have been looking for a new one for you on Ebay, I wanted to replace it before you even knew it was gone, I didn’t think you would notice so quickly.” He said, but the damage had already been done. 

Sam saw Hetty’s face drop, “It’s alright Mark, accidents happen,” She said before quickly hanging up, not even saying goodbye. 

“It is not alright.” Hetty said starkly as she tried to process what had happened. “It is in no way all right.” 

“It’s going to be okay Hetty,” Pete stepped forward, taking the lead on damage control, he thought he was in the special position to. “I know it hurts now,” He tried to give her a reassuring smile. “I understand it probably feels like the end of the world, but it isn’t, and you have friends here to support you through this. I am sure if we put all our heads together we can figure out how to get her back.” It was probably too much too fast, Hetty had not even had the proper time to process what was going on and there he was telling her it would be okay. 

“Do not tell me it is going to be okay Peter,” She said, tears welling in her eyes. “Don’t you dare tell me it is going to be okay.” She was stepping towards him. “Do not tell me it is going to be fine, do not tell me it will all work out, do not tell me it is not the end of the world.” 

She tried to walk past him, she needed to not feel like she was on display, “Hetty, wait,” She heard Pete say as he tried to grab her arm and stop her. 

It was practically instinct for her to turn around and slap him. “Don’t you dare try to keep me here.” She said and Pete stumbled backwards to the ground.

“Woah, we cannot be hitting people,” Sam tried to call out, everything happening so fast. 

Hetty looked down at Pete, every emotion she knew coursing through her. “I am so sorry Peter, I, I panicked. I, I, I, I-” she looked at Sam then around at the others then finally at the gramophone. “I think I need a moment alone.” She said before rushing out of the house. 

Pete rubbed his cheek, “Don’t go after her, I’m okay, I probably deserved it.” Pete said as Trevor helped him up off the ground. 

Hetty ran outside, not knowing where she was going, just that she knew she needed to be away, that she couldn’t sob like that in front of everyone. 

“Hetty has a pretty good backhand,” Pete said and he stabilized his bearings. Everyone stared at him, waiting expectantly for him to explain. But he didn’t want to be the one to tell them. 

“Jay and I just got off an eleven hour flight, please someone fill us in.” Sam pleaded. 

Isaac stepped forward, to provide his special perspective. “I think Hetty has developed a somewhere between minor to major crush on Winifred and her sudden departure is causing her immense distress.” He blurted out. “I know, I know, Trevor had his revenge plot theory, but think about it realistically, Hetty was doing whatever she could to spend time with her by the end, she suggested they share a room, did practically anything Winifred asked, I think Hetty developed a crush and is heartbroken that it never was.” Everyone considered the matter and they all thought it made more sense, and it explained why Hetty had gotten so upset about her being gone. 

“She still was going to far by slapping Pete,” Trevor argued, and quickly it devolved into an argument over if it was considered an appropriate amount of heartbreak for her reaction, they also bickered how realistically Hetty would develop a crush on her, and all other sorts of details and loose ends. It had devolved into chaos. 

“Everyone, please be quiet!” Pete yelled, far louder than he needed to, but it got everyone’s attention. “There was no revenge plot, sorry Trevor,” Pete started to explain, though now that he was explaining there might be a revenge plot, “Hetty didn’t have a crush on Winifred, well, she probably used to,” Pete began to say. “But they were more than that now, they were together. And I think if the person I loved just disappeared forever with no way to get them back, I would also have a total freak out, probably even worse.” Pete explained, Trevor rubbing his arm, but Isaac just laughed. 

“You told me that if anything was happening between them I would have been the first to know.” Isaac argued. 

He was so tired of being laughed at, this was far past the final straw. “Well Hetty threatened to shove my arrow up my ass if I told anyone so sure, blame me for airing on the side of caution.” Pete bit back.

“Can she even do that?” Sass asked with a slight look of fear. 

“I don’t know but I really didn’t want to chance it!” Pete exclaimed. 

“Hold on, hold on, hold on, why would she threaten to shove your arrow where the sun don’t shine for telling people? Were they keeping it a secret? Did they think we wouldn’t approve?” Alberta piped in. 

Pete awkwardly messed with his hands and looked at the ground, “Well, I may have found out in a way that they did not appreciate?” He said hoping no one would ask any further questions. 

“How did you find out?” Though the question was bound to be asked.

“I may have accidentally seen them, and these are Hetty’s words, in a ‘slightly compromising position.’” He said with great remorse. “I didn’t mean to! I didn’t think they were in there! And also at the time I was all in on the revenge plot theory and thought I was a target. I was checking as a safety measure to make sure they weren’t going to sneak attack me.” He tried to preemptively defend himself. 

“You walked in on them?” Trevor asked with an eyebrow raised, and Pete just gave him a light hit to the arm. “It was just a question.” Trevor added with his hands slightly raised. 

“I can say with full certainty that they were together,” He didn’t want to say any more than that. “And I think we need to give her support,” Though Pete was realizing that maybe it was more than just support, “And space, really we should just give her what she needs, I mean, it isn’t even like Winifred went to whatever ‘great beyond’ we go to when we get sucked off, she just vanished. Hetty thought she would be able to get her back and she couldn’t. I can’t imagine how difficult that would be.” He glanced towards Trevor. Pete had thought about what happens when he disappears, what Winifred had told him it felt like, and now more than ever he wanted to make sure that didn’t happen to him.

Hetty sat in the clearing, sniffling to herself, feeling like a child as she held her knees to her chest. Thinking about that song, a song she had heard Winifred hum and sing countless times. A song she would never hear her hum or sing again. Whos melody would no longer haunt Woodstone manor. And it almost hurt to think about. It felt like it got caught in her chest in the hole where her heart used to be and bounced around to mimic its beating. 

Hetty sat in the snow, wishing she could feel the cold, really feel the cold, wishing she could feel anything but the heartache and pain, she wanted to lean back and Winifred to wrap she arms around her, though when she leaned back she was just left lying in the snow, arms spread out as she looked to the sky. She wondered if it was worth it, falling in love, because she had, she had fallen completely and utterly in love with Winifred. She let herself be held, and loved, and felt like she would be happy to have Winifred around for however long she could. But she thought it would be much longer than this. They didn’t even get a year. 

She wished she would have said goodbye, but it was just some version of ‘see you soon,’ she wished she could have held her a little tighter, kissed her one more time, anything. She wondered if she held on hard enough if she would have disappeared too, if they could have both slipped into oblivion. 

She laid there until the sky went dark and she could see the stars. She remembered all the constellations Winifred had pointed out to her, and she wanted to think that Winifred was looking at them too, that whatever nothingness she had become had the ability to also see the stars, because Hetty did think Winifred was right. When she looked at the stars, really looked at them, looked at the endless expanse of cosmos that had been there long before her and would be there long after, she felt less alone. 

Chapter Text

Hetty was withdrawn, not wanting to get her hopes up. But Sam was hopeful, everyone else was hopeful as Mark had promised to replace the disk. Hetty wanted to be hopeful, she wanted to hear the updates from Sam about disks that they were finding and be able to climb that ladder of excitement. She just was worried about how far she could possibly fall. 

She spent far more time alone. Though, maybe that was just the time she spent with Winifred now having a vacuum. She sat on the bench at the far end of the lake, looking out, it felt like everything had been poisoned, that there was not some place on property that had not been a place she had seen Winifred smile. 

“Would you like some company?” Isaac approached hesitantly, fully prepared for her to say no. 

She thought about it, saying, ‘I am good for now,’ and just sitting with the sound of nature as her only companion. “I would love some company.” She said instead, trying to take the advice, her friends were there for her. She didn’t think Winifred would want her to go through this alone. 

Isaac sat on the bench beside her in a friendly silence. Late January left far more of the snow melting than either were used to. 

“I loved her, Isaac.” Hetty said without warning. “I loved her, and she knew, she knew very well.” The feelings started bubbling up, that numbness being overpowered by something far more painful. The lost part of love, making her wish she had never loved at all. 

“I am sure we can get her back.” Isaac wanted to be hopeful, even if it was irrational, he liked the idea of love persevering above all else. He thought Hetty deserved it, more than thought, he knew she deserved it. 

“I know,” Though Hetty could not get herself to believe. Or maybe she just didn’t let herself. They sat for a long time until Hetty gave a pained laugh, “Look at me, crying over lost love like some hopeless romantic.” 

“May I ask how long?” Isaac questioned. Everyone knew about their romance now but Hetty still did not talk about it. That surprised no one, she rarely delved into personal matters. She ignored parts of her past until they weren’t real anymore. 

Hetty wanted to say, ‘no you may not,’ but she had continually told herself that her and Winifred weren’t hiding anything, that if someone asked she would not deny it, “September.” She thought back to that night, buzzing with nerves as Winifred asked if she would like to be kissed by her. “Though if we are being realistic, it started before, by September it was just undeniable.” 

“You have had a girlfriend since September and you did not tell me?” Isaac sounded almost offended. But it was the use of the word, ‘have’ that struck a chord, like Winifred was still hers. She was not some object of the past. 

Hetty smiled, though the sadness still poured through. “It was all so new, we didn’t know what we were, just that we… were.” 

“Well I forgive you for not telling me.” Isaac said in an over exaggerated manner. “I think you two are good together, capable of nearly horrifying levels of conspiracy, but good together.” 

“Everyone just thought our sneaking around and whispering was us conspiring, not us falling into each other's arms.” Hetty reflected back on all of it, “We moved in together, did seriously no one think that we had other motivations?” 

Isaac couldn’t find the right words to say, “Trevor was the one who brought forth the revenge theory, and he insisted that you two moving in together was proof on the matter.”

“God forbid two women be in love. No, we must be conspiring someone’s demise. Do you think that is what Trevor and Peter are doing? Plotting someone's downfall?” She was not actually upset with anyone over the matter, it was just all a lot. All a lot at the same time. 

“You have never been the romantic type, so I think people just did not think you could be so easily swept off your feet.” Isaac said, and he would know. He saw her marriage in its entirety. She didn’t speak about it, but he knew. He was there. 

“How do you know I was not the one who did the sweeping?” Hetty pointed out. 

“If you did the sweeping, that means you fell in love with her all on your own.” He stated. Then it was quiet again as Hetty thought it over, because she had, she had fallen in love with Winifred all on her own. “Tell me about her.” Isaac finally said. 

“Tell you about her? Isaac, the woman lived here for close to a year, you know her personally. I have seen you call her a friend.” Hetty thought the question was silly. 

“Yes, but I want to know about her through your eyes. Hear about what magical things she did to turn you into a tragically yearning valentine.” Hetty thought back, tried to think back to when it really started. “Though if it is too painful do not force yourself.” 

Hetty sat thinking for a long moment, “We saw a bird once on one of our walks. She asked me if I ever wished I could be like them. The birds. It was the first time she had said something to me that was not meant to hurt me. And it was the first time I saw her as more than just a bitter rival. Sure after then we continued to bicker and bark, but I could see there was more to her.” Hetty said, looking down at her lap. “I did not like her, but I could respect her. She told me before she disappeared that ‘I did not even like her yet, but that I already loved her.’ And maybe it was both, maybe I respected her enough to keep her personal matters private and was sympathetic enough to her to bear the weight of the blame. Maybe that was my accidental first act of love.” Though Hetty knew in her heart that was not true. The first act of love, whether Hetty meant it to be or not, was bringing Winifred to the back clearing. A place away from the rest of the world. She had not brought her there as a special gesture or because she was emotionally motivated, she had brought her there because she just wanted to be away from watchful eyes. A place she had gone to clear her head in both life and death, that was the first crack in the door of vulnerability. Accidentally carving out a special place just for them. 

“Wait, what did you take the blame for?” Isaac needed clarification. 

“That first episode she had, where she just stood and let the gramophone play.” Isaac nodded along as she spoke. “She didn’t even know that what we were talking about was something that would bother her. And if our places were switched I would have appreciated my feelings not being treated as gossip so I gave her that respect of not speaking about it.” 

She hated that talking about it was comforting, that talking about the pain made it hurt less. “It made me sad to see her get like that, like a shell of who she was. Because she was wonderful, and lively, and creative, and very smart, and sometimes it was like it all disappeared.” Hetty knew why, loneliness did that to a person, it destroyed everything that you were. “She was a complicated woman, loved the stars, hated the snow, loved to dance, but everyone here knows she loved to dance. Loved music, and flowers, and literature, and art, and birds, and mice, and deer, it would be easier to list the things she didn’t love.” Hetty slightly chuckled. 

“She was hurt. Hurt deeply.” Hetty got very serious. “And she understood that I was too. And she never faulted me for it. But she made it very clear I was not alone.” She took a moment to breathe and reached for Isaac’s arm for support. “She was afraid, and lonely, and lost, and maybe a little too stubborn for her own good, but the more I got to know her the more I realized I wanted to reach my hand out to her and let her know it was going to be okay.”

“You wanted to be her princess in shining armor?” Isaac asked, trying to keep the mood from getting too low. 

“No, she was plenty capable of saving herself. I just didn’t want her to have to do it on her own.” Hetty wondered how much the others knew about Winifreds personal matters, if those details had ever been disclosed to the others. “I don’t know what else to say…” Hetty trailed off getting lost in her own thoughts. “She was wonderful. Gorgeously, beautifully, wonderful.” Hetty smiled to herself as she said it, “Those are the types of compliments she would give me. And when she said them I was inclined to believe them. To take them as the truth.” 

Hetty let go of Isaac’s arm eventually. Both of them sat there for a while watching as the wind caused ripples in the lake. “I loved her. I know I have already said that, but I don’t know if I can stress it enough.” 

Isaac didn’t know if he had ever seen Hetty this heartbroken. The way she tried to not wear it on her face, the same way she hid all her other pain, all her other feelings, and in some moments you could be fooled to think that the slightly stern look and fading smile was just because Hetty could be a judgemental woman, not because it was how the sadness sat in her expression. She had spent a lot of time crafting that mask and she still put it on. “I know you love her.” particular in his words, not giving up hope. “And I know she loves you too.” 

Hetty looked over to him quickly, “Did she tell you that? I thought you said you didn’t know about us.” 

Isaac smiled to himself, “New Years, you two were dancing, Trevor said it was because you two were the only ones who knew, in his words, ‘that old-timey dancing,’ but I saw the way she held you, the way she kept you close, the way she whispered in your ear and cause you to giggle. Really, you two are practically sickening.” 

Hetty laughed, she still hurt, just as much as before, but it felt like she could better handle the pain. “I know she loves me,” Hetty wanted to be hopeful. She had to be. “God, listen to me, did you ever think I would be going on and on about a romantic endeavor?” 

“No, I did not,” Isaac said in truth, “But it is nice to hear from you, hear about your passions of the heart.” 

Hetty sat for a long time, a thought tugging at her. “What if she is gone, really gone, no way to get back?” She asked. 

Isaac wanted to say, ‘she isn’t, we will get her back, just you see.’ but he knew she had doubts, “I think it’s best if we stay hopeful.” He finally landed on. And Hetty just nodded in return, trying to internalize the words. Even if it hurt, she needed to stay hopeful. 

It took Mark a while to track down the right type of record and the right song and then negotiate a price that he was willing to pay, but soon he was dropping it off at Woodstone and apologizing profusely once again for breaking it. He did not know exactly why it was so important, but still felt bad about breaking it. 

“Accidents happen, and you know, you have helped us fix so many things, it is only fair you get to break something every once in a while.” Sam joked as she waved him off. 

“Samantha has the disk from Mark,” Isaac said excitedly, and Hetty wanted to be excited, but she just felt nervous. Close to nauseous. It had been weeks and all she wanted was to see Winifred’s smile again. 

Hetty begrudgingly got off the couch, “You seem more excited than me.” Hetty said as Isaac practically dragged her to the foyer. 

“Someone has to be excited, and if you are unable then it is my job as your friend to maintain momentum.” He said as they all made their way towards the foyer. 

Almost everyone seemed more excited than Hetty, and that gave her some amount of hope. She could not sink into her own worst fears if everyone else was holding her above water. 

“So the person that Mark bought the record from says that it all checks out, the timing, the place, this is even an import from England that was originally purchased in America.” Sam said like that made it even better. 

“I am actually most excited to hear what that song is supposed to sound like.” Jay said, joining the group in the foyer. 

“Are you excited, Hetty?” Flower asked, and she could only get herself to nod. Once again it felt like all eyes were either on her or the gramophone. 

There were whispers and chattering all about until Sam was ready to start the record, then it all came down to a silenced hush. Everyone waiting for something to happen. 

And for a moment, Hetty thought something would. Everyone else seemed so sure, like they knew something she didn’t, that she thought something must happen, it must. But she just stood there and listened as the song played all the way through, and as the record sputtered to a stop she felt like she missed something, that she must have missed something, she wanted her worries to be proved wrong but instead she just stood there. 

“I’m so sorry Hetty, I was sure it was going to work.” Sam said, remorse written across her. 

Hetty just took a deep breath and tried to keep her composure. “It is alright Samantha, it was a long shot anyways.” Hetty felt like a fool for getting her hopes up. She felt like she should have known better, but who could really blame her for wanting a happy ending. 

Chapter Text

It did in fact get easier. It still hurt, but it was easier, Hetty still felt miserable, but it was easier, everything still reminded Hetty of her, but it was easier. Sam offered to look for more copies of the record, but deep down Hetty knew that it was fruitless. It was both the gramophone and the disk. That is the way she existed, through both. She had her moments, late at night, where she would stand in front of the gramophone and wonder if she was still there. 

Funny that a ghost looked for a signal from some sort of greater great beyond. Like she waited for some kind of sign. Some kind of confirmation. Imagining that Winifred was some sort of second level ghost, like a nesting doll. But she never got any of that, she just stood and stared at the gramophone. 

But it got easier. It didn’t hurt any less but it got easier. But when the weather started to warm up Hetty could not get herself to be excited for the early spring. In fact, it filled her with dread and shame as the snow melted away for the last time. 

“I know it is good for me to get out in the fresh air, but…” She tried not to lament too much to the others, even when they told her it was okay, even when they said she was right to be hurting. 

Sass nodded his head as they strolled. Normally they would not go on walks like this one on one but he was the only one around. 

“We should talk about something else, you pick.” She said quickly. Distractions also helped. Getting her mind off things made it easier, didn’t make it hurt any less but made it easier to get through. 

The warmer the days got the more nights Hetty spent standing in front of the gramophone, waiting, hoping, nearly praying that by some miracle she would be there. She felt like she was being overly dramatic, but she didn’t know any other way to cope. She was trying, she really was, but she had never lost like that before. It was a special type of grief, to lose someone in death, and she didn’t even have the comfort of knowing she was in a ‘better place,’ so she just tried to remind herself that she also was not in a worse one. 

And when April rolled around it was not easier. It made her feel pathetic to be so emotional over it still. But now it just hurt. 

She sat on the couch next to Alberta as Outlander played on the television. 

“Are you doing alright?” Alberta asked at one point between episodes. 

Hetty let out a sigh, “People ask me that all the time these days.” 

“It’s because we care about you and imagine what you are going through is difficult. You lost someone you cared about.” Alberta said in such sincerity. “I am not going to pretend like I understand how much you two had going on, but it still can’t be easy.” Alberta was still under the impression their relationship was built on passionate hate, that it was far more complicated than them putting aside their differences and falling in love. 

“It is getting easier.” Hetty said, even if she messed with her hands, kicking her thoughts back and forth trying to figure out if she wanted to say them or not. She could just leave it at that. That would be easier. But she continued speaking. “Around this time is when she would have been here for a year so I am just having a lot of complicated feelings.” 

Alberta nodded in sympathy, “you miss her?” She asked. 

“Yes, of course I miss her.” but it was more than that, it was a feeling that she let Winifred down, false promises of making it to the springtime only to be cut short with nothing Hetty could do about it. “Winifred once said to me that she did not know how many things were going to cause her so much pain. Sure, she died over a hundred years ago but he had not actually spent much time as a ghost.” Hetty explained. “And I understand that now, very much understand it. It is all new, and it all hurts. And I didn’t know it was going to hurt this much until it was already happening.” She was trying to talk about her feelings when they came up, though it still never made her feel better. 

Alberta was suddenly pulling her into a hug, and Hetty took a moment but she welcomed it, even thought it was nice. 

And it got easier. It didn’t hurt any less, but it got easier. Broken hearts were funny like that, because she eventually could still laugh and joke and had plenty of moments where she could almost completely forget about the strolls and the smiles and all the things she missed, plenty of times where she could live in the moment. But so many nights she still found herself standing in front of the gramophone and wishing for a miracle. 

“Winifred,” Hetty said late one night as she stood before the gramophone. “I hope you know it is a compliment when I say that you have left me completely heartbroken.” Hetty didn’t think Winifred could hear her, but she still spoke. “It has been strange not having you around. I have missed you dearly. Everyone has missed you dearly.” It felt silly to talk to the gramophone but it was the only thing she had. The only thing left that was a part of her. “And I am sorry I did not say goodbye. But I didn’t know that it was goodbye.” Hetty thought she heard a sound from upstairs, turning to see if there was anyone there, but there was no one. If she didn’t know better she would have sworn it was a ghost. 

She looked back to the gramophone, heart heavy but manageable, “I cannot get myself to say goodbye, but I can thank you, thank you for everything. And I mean everything. The good and the bad. All of it. I would not change a single moment that I spent with you.” She gave a small curtsy to the gramophone before heading back up the stairs. It didn’t hurt any less but it was easier to fall asleep that night. Something about that was its own special type of hard. That it was getting easier. 

Sam sat on the couch next to Jay, both of them in theory answering emails though more so checking social media feeds. Hetty approached them head held high and shoulders back, proper posture that she tried to reflect, hands sophisticatedly folded in front of her. “Samantha,” She said trying to grab her attention, “I have a request.” 

Sam looked at her, tapping Jay on the arm, “Hetty just walked into the room, she wants to ask something.” Sam filled him in and Jay turned vaguely in the direction that Sam was looking in. “What is it, Hetty?” Sam said trying her best to look understanding, though sometimes it came off almost forced even if she meant the best. 

Hetty took a moment to clear her throat. “I wish to burn the gramophone.” She said simply. 

“What?” The statement took her by surprise. She turned to fill in Jay, “Hetty wants to burn the gramophone.” 

Jay gave a confused pout. “But I finally found a real haunted object!” 

Sam looked back to Hetty and saw subtle sadness that peaked through her ‘perfect posture.’ “I just think that Winifred deserves to properly be put to rest.” Hetty said softly. 

Sam turned back to Jay, “She wants to make sure that Winifred is properly put to rest,” Sam explained but Jay still looked torn, “We gave Thor a funeral, and people were willing to pay a lot of money for his skeleton, but that was important to him. And this is important to her.” Sam urged. 

It did not take him long to come around and agree. “I can go get the backyard fire safe.” He said in a less than enthusiastic tone, closing his computer and getting up. Something that probably should not be something he was so prepared to do. 

“Thank you Samantha,” Hetty said, moving to leave the room. 

“Hetty, wait,” Sam called out towards her, but she seemed to get caught on her words, like she decided against what she was going to say, it’s how almost everyone approached the topic, at a loss for words but felt like words needed to be said, “I think she would appreciate what you’re doing.” Sam landed on, though Hetty was not sure. Because not very much of it was for Winifred, it was mostly for her.

The ghosts, as well as Sam and Jay, all gathered in the backyard. The gramophone was surrounded by cardboard and some stray branches and pieces of wood. Jay thought if they were going to have a bonfire might as well make good use of it. He was putting a little gasoline on the stack for good measure, even if Sam told him not to. 

“Hetty, do you want to say anything?” Sam asked. 

“No.” Hetty replied. She had already made her peace, or as much peace as she could. She had learned how to carry the weight. 

Sam looked around to everyone else, seeing if anyone wanted to say anything, but they all shook their heads, respecting Hetty’s silence. So Sam just gave a nod to Jay, who threw a lit match into the pile and the gasoline caused it to go up in billowing flames. 

They said funerals were for the living, but Hetty knew that wasn’t true, they were for the mourning. Though no one considered that the dead could hurt just as much. To watch that gramophone burn hurt, hurt like setting a broken bone, a pain she was fairly certain would make things hurt less in the long run. Make the pain easier to deal with. And for the first time since Winifred disappeared from her arms, she actually believed that she would be okay. That it was better to have loved and lost than to never loved at all.

“Now in the summer of life sweetheart, you say you love but me,”

Hetty began to softly sing, her notes not anywhere near in tune, but she sang it for herself, maybe she also sang it for Winifred, but she really only sang it for herself. 

“Gladly I give all my heart to you, throbbing with ecstasy.”

Not sang well, but sang from the heart, sang with emotion. Sang with her entire being behind it like she was giving a part of herself as she sang. 

“But last night I saw in my dreaming, a future cold and grey,” 

Hetty had not heard the words to the song that many times, but she knew them, committed them to memory, had hummed them to herself more times than she would admit in the past few months. 

“And I wondered if you’ll love me then dear, just as you do today.”

A sad Irish love song, that was how Winifred had described it once, a sad Irish love song that feared loneliness just as much as Winifred did. 

“Will you love me in December as you do in May?
Will you love me in the good old fashioned way?
When all my hairs turned grey,
Will you kiss me then and say,
That you love me in December as you do in May.”

There was another verse after that, but Hetty didn’t think it needed to be sung, she had done what she felt like she needed to do, got as much emotional closure as she could, so she closed her eyes and took a breath. She could be okay. More than that, she knew she would be okay. 

The fire roared larger than life, larger than what should have been possible. It caused nearly everyone to take a step backwards, but Hetty did not open her eyes, even if she could feel the heat, she was already dead. Plus she had always loved the warmth of a fire. 

“Hetty?” But the familiar voice was enough to cause her eyes to fly open. 

Even if she knew they were open, she could not trust them. “Winifred?” She said in complete disbelief. 

She stood in the flames next to the gramophone, walking suit and hat just as perfect as the first day she saw her. That same slightly startled look on her face, something close to the face she made when she first woke up in the morning. “Hetty!” She called out again, though this time in more panic, and without a second thought Hetty was running towards her. 

“Winifred!” She called out as she grabbed onto her and pulled her out of the fire and towards safety. The flames immediately died down as she did so. “Oh, Winifred,” Hetty said as she pulled her into her arms. “I thought I lost you forever.” 

Winifred squeezed her back in confused relief. “You did lose me forever,” She said as she let her weight lean against Hetty, holding onto her like a tether, “Mark, he broke the record,” She couldn’t wrap her mind around it, “How am I back?” She asked, almost afraid of what Hetty might have done to make it happen. 

“I don’t know,” Hetty said in relief, “I don’t know, but you are, and I missed you nearly every second that you were gone.” She had gone from sorrow to elatement in a matter of moments, and she barely knew how to react. She was ecstatic, confused, nearly everything in between. Words began to fail as she tried to find more to say so she put her lips to better use in learning what Winifred’s felt like again. 

They slowly separated but did not stray far from each other, “I wish I could say I missed you too but I feel like I was just saying goodbye.” Winifred said softly, still trying to catch up. 

“Don’t worry my darling, I missed you enough for the both of us.” Hetty pulled her in for another kiss, soft and sincere, I missed you, I mourned you, I love you all rolled into one. Hands carefully at cheeks and waists in the same gentle dance they both comfortably loved. 

Everyone else watched with their jaws on the floor, except for Jay who was more concerned about the giant fireball that had happened, though Sam could care less about that right now. “Get a room!” Someone finally called out and they carefully separated from each other again, smiles and small giggles as hair was being tucked behind ears. 

Winifred looked around, in awe of the spring, “It has been a few months, I apologize,” Hetty said as they walked a little bit farther from the fire. Walked closer towards the others. Hetty’s hand was placed gently on her back in reassurance. 

“Never apologize for saving me.” Winifred said before leaving a kiss on Hetty’s cheek. A near stupid smile plastered over Hetty’s face. 

They both pointlessly attempted to make themselves not seem disgustingly in love as they approached the others. “Just so that there isn’t another misunderstanding, Winifred and I are lovers,” Hetty said to the others before quickly turning to Winifred. “Of course, only if she wants to be.” 

“I think we should actually scheme a revenge plot, doesn’t that sound so much better?” Winifred giggled as she said it, and there was more than a fair share of eye rolls from the group. Hetty leaned against Winifred, her head slowly tilting onto her shoulder. 

“Welcome back Winifred,” Sam said, and that caused Jay to switch his attention.

“Wait, Winifred is back? Is that what that fireball was?” Jay asked, looking all around. Sam just nodded and pointed in the direction Winifred was in to help him. 

“Yes, she is back,” Sam said as she looked at both Hetty and Winifred, the pained smile across Hetty’s face like she was still in disbelief. “And I am sure her and Hetty would like to catch up.” Sam said not so subtly trying to signal to everyone that they should go back inside the house and give them some space. Though some of the other ghosts wanted to stay, it was free entertainment after all, but Sam was able to usher everyone inside. 

They stood near the fire, the gramophone burned to a crisp, and Hetty just held onto her hand like if she let go Winifred would disappear again. “Hey,” Winifred said softly, her free hand making it onto Hetty’s arm, “I’m right here. You don’t have to worry about me going anywhere.” 

Hetty leaned into it. “Are you sure?” She asked in doubt, in fear. 

Winifred wasn’t sure. It was entirely possible in two days she would start to fade away again, but she didn’t want that to be the truth. “I don’t think I have anywhere to go to now, the gramophone is gone, the disk is gone, I think you might be stuck with me.” 

Hetty smiled looking down to the ground. “I don’t think I’ll ever complain about being stuck with you.” 

It was a long silence as they watched the fire fizzle down to embers, the late afternoon sun really taking hold, really making Hetty jealous of Winifred’s hat. “I don’t know what I do now.” Winifred admitted almost in shame. 

“What you do now?” Hetty turned to look at her, a face she so dearly missed, a face that made her feel silly for being so enamored.

“I can’t go back to the gramophone, so what do I do now?” She asked, smiling properly back to Hetty. 

“You become an official ghost of Woodstone, you get bragging rights of being the only one who died off property, you won’t need to worry about being alone anymore.” Hetty looked at her with forlorn eyes of longing. 

Winifred did not know how to be missed. She knew she had been, in the past, that her family missed her dearly, but she was never faced with their reactions upon return. She never made it that far. So when Hetty looked at her like she was a rosebush finally back in bloom that she did not know if it would weather the winter, she did not know what to say. It made her almost feel guilty for not missing Hetty enough. “I am so very happy to be back, Hetty, but this is strange, while I did not want to go I made peace with it. I had to. I had to be okay with the fact that it was going to be the last time I ever existed, that I ever saw you.” 

Hetty listened intently, and she understood the feeling, having to make peace whether you wanted to or not. “I had to make peace with it too. I said goodbye to the gramophone before we burned it. I did not want to let go of you but…” Hetty was trying to find the right words, “There wasn’t anything left to hold onto.” Maybe they weren’t the right ones but they were close. 

Winifred held her close leaving another kiss on her cheek, both unspoken realities that they existed in, “It took you until spring to make peace with that?”

“You left very abruptly, I didn’t know what to do with myself.” Hetty explained, and Winifred just gave a small pout. 

“I am sorry I kept the truth from you, I just wanted to see you happy for as long as possible.” Winifred confided, reaching over and caressing Hetty’s face. 

Hetty held onto her hand kissing her palm. “I think I can forgive you.” Hetty knew she would have done the same. Even if it hurt, she couldn’t find it within herself to blame her. “I am just glad that there is someone here for me to forgive.” 

“You have yourself to thank for that one.” Winifred smiled, “Saving me from my own oblivion.”

Hetty just shook her head, “I had nothing to do with it.” 

“You are very strong willed,” Winifred replied, “You told me you would give me the world if you could, and look at me now.” Though Hetty did not want to take any credit, because any of her involvement had been completely accidental, she did not want to lie to her like that. Because it had not been some large romantic gesture to get her back, it was a funeral pyre to let her go once and for all no matter how much it hurt. 

Eventually they began to stroll, hand in hand, it was so nice for it to be spring again. For there to be flowers and birds and small ground mammals that could cross their path. A stroll they had done countless times together, but both were happy to do again. Winifred lightly hummed under her breath. Not even meaning to, not even because she was anxious about holding onto reality, just out of pure habit. 

“I will.” Hetty said, though a question had not even been asked. 

Winifred looked at her in slight confusion, “Will what?” 

“Love you tomorrow just as much as I do today.” It was May and Hetty was confident on the matter. If the last four months had taught her anything it had been that. 

Winifred blushed, or at least the closest thing to blushing. “I am sure everyone will be happy to not have to hear that song anymore.” She said, trying to change the subject. 

“Are you?” Hetty asked in full sincerity. 

Winifred almost got lost in thought thinking about the answer. “I think it will be nice for a change in pace.” She tried to assure Hetty. Even if the tune still held a complicatedly special place in her heart. 

“I do mean it though. And I don’t say it lightly. It may shock you to know that I am not a romantic.” Hetty said as they approached the clearing, the sun just at the earliest points of setting. 

Winifred could never imagine looking at someone and seeing love in their eyes, yes maybe in a fantasy, but never as her truth. She saw it in front of her with Hetty. Words not said lightly, words she had heard so many times before, words that Hetty never had trouble saying. “I don’t say it lightly either.” They held onto each others hands, standing in the clearing, like they had so many times before. Winifred looked at her and wondered how she had not fallen in love with her instantly, “I had never known what it means to be loved until I met you, Hetty Woodstone. And I mean every single word.” A much harder thing to say, though to be in love and to be loved went hand in hand. 

Hetty held onto her hands tightly, worry sticky in her chest, unsure if she should follow her heart in this moment, but it was already off at the races. “Hetty Griffiths.” she tried to securely correct. 

“What?” The statement almost confusing Winifred, “I am not sure if I follow.” 

Hetty took a deep breath, “You said your name was there if I ever wanted to take it, if I ever wanted to distance myself from my own,” Hetty nodded to herself, sure in her words but a nervousness still in her, “And if you are here for good I would much rather you be calling me Hetty Griffiths as opposed to Hetty Woodstone.” 

Winifred’s eyes were wide. The setting sun bathing Hetty in a golden glow, a beauty nearly beyond compare. “You want me to call you Hetty Griffiths?” She asked, just to confirm. 

“I do.” Hetty said it without a second thought. Despite the nerves the words were easy to say. “I don’t know if you want to join me in that. If you want to be a Griffiths again.” Hetty asked that far more cautiously. 

Winifred just nodded, nodded probably far more than she had ever nodded to anything in her life. “I do!” Where Hetty spoke with a firm sureness, Winifred spoke in excitement, letting herself nearly leap into Hetty’s arms, almost knocking her over as she kissed her. Held her close, not wanting to let her go. “Of course I do, especially if it is with you.” She said before kissing her again. 

They smiled against each other’s lips, a comfort that Hetty missed dearly and that Winifred thought she would never get again. But now they just held each other close in the setting sun. A love of their own merit and devotion. Of understanding comfort. Of so many things that they thought were out of their reach but now held them just as they wanted to be held. That cared and comforted. That learned and stumbled without ridicule. That made the other feel safe and heard. Winter would eventually come again, but so would spring, so would so many other wonderful things. They could entwine each other and kiss away the worries and fears, and when that proved fruitless, not let the other carry it alone. They could love each other in the ways that they deserved, that they didn’t always know that they deserved, in what they thought should be the good old fashioned way.