Hamilton Oneshots

Dead // pt 2

A week later, I've learned their habits. John always left an hour after the man, Francis as I learned. I watched them from places they didn't pay attention, making myself visible to John occasionally. He always looked at me with a look of guilt. One day, after seeing John leave, I played with whatever ghastly powers I had. I already knew how to mess with lights and my visibility. Doors weren't hard to move, so I tried picking up the pens from across the room. I watched them waiver on the table, but never move.

"Who are you?" a voice asked. I glanced at the source and saw John's boyfriend. I rolled my eyes and kept trying the pens.

"I'll call the police," Francis threatened. Finally, I got a pen off the table and dropped it onto the floor. Francis stared at it, then looked back at me.

"You're... you're Charles, aren't you?" Francis asked. The force held my voice, so I just smiled and tilted my head at him. He paled a little as I disappeared and reappeared by the pens. I held one gently in my hand and spun it around.

"Ghosts aren't real..." Francis told himself. I disappeared again and dropped the pen. Francis stared in the spot I once stood and took a shakey breath. I finally went back to my first spot and tried to get high up.

"I really hate being called fake," my voice finally let up. Francis stared at me, looking like he was considering running. John announced he was home and I disappeared again with Francis staring at my spot. John came in and looked worried.

"Is something wrong?" he asked. I moved back to the table, sitting cross-legged, before appearing. John saw me as I smiled like I did at Francis and waved. The force held my voice yet again.

"What did you do?" John asked me, his voice was sharp. Francis looked at me and jumped.

"Him... He... Ghosts aren't real," Francis said. I frowned and rested my face on my fist.

"I told you, I hate being called fake," I said. John stared at me, upset almost. I looked at him, unamused.

"But, I also hate seeing the ring I gave John on your finger," I said, making eye contact with John. Francis looked at the ring on his finger and looked back at John.

"You said this had a lot of meaning to you," Francis said, sounding heartbroken. John tried to stammer an answer that would please both of us. I was not having it.

"Oh, it does, I wanted to marry him with it," I said, "Of course, I never got the chance as I, well, died." I watched the guilt fill John's face. I disappeared and let John and Francis talk it out.

They forgave each other fast as I made no new appearances. A year after my death and they had a cat. The cat always seemed to see me, even when I remained in invisible to John and Francis, and stayed by me. I didn't understand why, but it was nice to have something to touch. Occasionally, I would knock a pen down for it to play with. I made myself visible as John and Francis were working, moving a pen for the cat to smack. I floated the pen high and watched the cat jump for it. I lost track of time as Francis and John came home. I didn't pay attention, just moved the pen so the cat would chase it. My back rested on the wall as I laughed a little.

"I guess that solves the mystery of the missing angry ghost," John muttered, watching me with the cat. Francis picked the cat up and I frowned.

"And where Ivon got all the pens from," Francis added. I disappeared and headed into the guest bedroom. I looked at the calandar resting on the table Francis worked on. I recognized the day, frownly softly as John made no acknowledgement of my death anniversary.

"Charles? Where did you disappear to?" John asked. I made myself visible, staring at the calandar. Tears were in my eyes, and, for once since I passed, actually were there. John saw me and walked over to me.

"It's been a year," I said, staring at the calandar. John walked over and looked at the date then at me. I saw tears in his eyes as he met mine.

"I miss you. Charles, I want you alive, not your ghost that I can see only when you want me to," John said. I didn't register myself wiping his tears until I actually touched him. John froze before placing his hand on mine and holding me there.

"Don't let go," he told me. All I did was sob and hold his cheek. Francis stood in the doorway, looking at us. I didn't look at him, but I could tell he was there from how John stood. My hand passed through his and my tears solidified themselves on my face. I disappeared, trying to wipe my own face. John tried reaching for me as Francis headed over to him. I rushed out, and the cat stood by the wall. It ran its back against the wall. I wanted to go back to that stupid room. Away from this Francis guy, away from this cat, away from being dead. The wall gave a little. The cat meowed while John left the room.

"Charles?" John asked. I looked at him, with my hand partially in the wall. I stayed quiet as I pushed myself the rest of the way through. I was back in the bright room. The two options came, but I remained frozen. On one side, John and Francis looked extremely happy together. On the other, John was crying over my body. My body, it was still living, I still had a chance. I rushed towards John.

Everything hurt when I woke up.