II

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"All a skeptic is is someone who hasn't had an experience yet." 

— Jason Hawes


This wasn't Olives first encounter with ghost hunters, nor, she assumed, would it be her last. That's why the scene of two grown men arguing over a wooden board game wasn't surprising anymore.

"This is a child's toy Bergara" Shane sighed again, bringing a hand to his forehead to massage the headache already forming there "you can't talk to a ghost with something you bought at Toys R Us"

"There have been countless witnesses who can confirm these things really work!" Ryan argued and Shane continued to work at the pain in his head, Olive thought he were doing it more for dramatic effect or purely just to see his friends face tint a new shade of pink and his eyes shine as he started on the research he cares so much about.

"I don't care what a bunch of crazies say!You can't contact a ghost with something that says 'made in china' on the back" Actually you could. Well sort of. Olive found herself for the first time hoping the boys might actually put the Ouija board to use. The fact that she almost wanted to speak to them directly should have been extremely worrying but she found she just didn't care.

"Just do this with me Shane, even if you don't believe just-" Ryan's voice broke. Olive was sure to take another tentative step back, it was obvious she wasn't the cause of this outburst but she couldn't ignore the push in the back of her mind reminding her what she was, what they were. "Please?" he sighed.

Shane gave him a tentative nod and a soft "fine, let's get this over with." She wondered how one word, one request, could completely shift his standpoint without a second thought. If Ryan asked Shane to jump off a bridge with that shy tone and desperate look, he'd probably do it without a second thought.

Olive had been in love once. It was 1915, his name was William, he played Jazz. Olive never knew she liked jazz until Willy, because when she said she didn't care for it his eyes would widen and his cheeks would heat up, he'd flail his arms around and tell her tales about his band, and his father's band, and his grandfather's band. And he would smile, and she would smile because he was smiling, and eventually she found Jazz wasn't all that bad if it could make him smile like that for a little longer than usual. Looking at the men sitting ahead of her, cross-legged on the carpet where she passed, board game ahead of them looking like children, she saw that same love in everything they did.

The men placed two fingers each onto the game piece and proceeded to chant some stupid poem Ryan was positive is needed for the process to work, however Shane was positive he'd read that off the back of a kids instruction manual therefore any and all of its possible legitimacy was forfeited.

"We're speaking to the spirit of Olive Thomas who resides in this home," Ryan started and Shane rolled his eyes, she smiled softly watching the way they interacted, just the small things like their relaxed posture in one another's presence and strong speaking tones, not out of fear to assert themselves but coming from an actual place of security. She wondered what that felt like. "Do you wish to communicate with us?"

Most everything about them reminded her of him. His soft hair and blue eyes, his croak voice in the mornings compared to whispers late at night, the way he would take her hand and assure her she'd be okay whenever she worried about her father. He promised they'd find a house in the country somewhere and runaway, a big house with cattle and crops, they'd make a new name for themselves, not as actors and musicians but farmers or miners, something simple and easy, something safe. He made her feel safe.

She thought about the way Shane made Ryan feel safe with a few words and gentle touches. She thought about the fact that the only thing making him scared originally was her presence. He feared her the way she feared her father, and was comforted the same. The thought of being anything like him left her with an uneasy feeling, a desire to disappear. When you're living you have it so easy, the option to end your own life is always looming but to have no option at all was uncharted territory. She found even she was afraid of herself.

"Sorry to rain on your little ghost parade," Shane spoke after patient minutes of silence had passed "but the magic table isn't moving. The ghost maybe aren't up for a chat just yet." Ghost? Shit she's the ghost she's the talker the talking she supposed to do that right...What was the question again?

H-E-L-L-O

The room fell silent again. Tentative looks were shared between one and the other. Olive could feel her own cold ora taking over the room and found even she didn't like it very much.

"Did you do that?"

"No, you did"

"Fuck off Shane that's not funny"

"I didn't do it!"

"Well neither did I!"

Another quiet moment passed. This time the air wasn't thick with fear or judgement, just questions. The men glanced around the room as if they were taking it in again for the very first time. Like they didn't know what to trust.

"Olive did you do that?"

Y-E-S

"Shane stop it!" Ryan yelled. Well she figured he was attempting to yell but it was more of a shaken whisper. Like punishing a child for doing wrong, when deep down you know they don't understand the situation. She thought they we're both so very similar to children.

"It wasn't me! She just admitted to it, tell off the ghost!" She shook her head with a small smile, most definitely children, most likely love.

"uh- h-hello, hi Olive, Ms Thomas, Do you prefer Ms Thomas or maybe Tom or-"

O-L-L-I-E

"Shane!" He scowled, causing a small laugh to bubble up from her stomach "It's one thing to mess with the investigation but seriously? you're pretending the ghost likes your dumb nicknames?"

"It isn't me Ryan!" Shane started with a serious tone, one he hadn't taken very often that she'd noticed, at least never on the topic of herself. Something in the shorter man's face shifted as he came to a sudden realisation.

"So you're saying it's a ghost?" He asked in awe.

"No-" Shane began again before cutting himself off, how one could become a paranormal investigator without believing in the paranormal was beyond her yet it made her that much more curious about the men "look, i'm just saying... I don't know, i guess i have no explanation for it," Ryans eyes lit up and his lips quirked to a proud smirk before Shane finished with "yet! No explanation yet!"

The two shared a nervous laugh and playful nudge on the shoulder. There was still fear there, of the unknown and the new as there should be, but there was comfort in the little place they'd made for one another. There were unspoken promises in that laughter that she could never begin to understand, like they had their own languages nobody else was allowed to intrude on. She was still in the room but in that moment it was nothing more than just Shane and Ryan, best friends, maybe more, maybe just not yet.

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