HEY THERE, DEMONS

V

Tentatively Shane stretched out his palm, never breaking eye contact with the empty chair he slowly found his way to Ryan's knee bouncing in a nervous habit he picked up as a child somewhere. His hands were frailty and caution, fingers twitching gently every so often, reaching upward as if towards something.

In an instant Ryan's hand bolted from a clenched fist sitting tight in his lap to perched lightly on top of Shane's own. He knew his hands were clammy and shaking ever so slightly and yet he couldn't find it in himself to care. Not compared to how painfully he need physical contact, an anchor holding him in reality, the warm safety of someone else's skin on his. Olive hadn't felt it in decades, so she chose to ignore the sharp pang of jealousy in her gut and opted to put it to good use and make sure these two got to experience life for everything it's worth while they still could, to experience life together.

"How about this," Shane smiled softly, gazing down at their entwined hands then back up to catch his best friends eyes, full of hope and longing. She took a moment to recognise how only a mere moment ago those same eyes held fear and dread, then Shane speaks three words and all that anxiety and evil is gone? Fascinating. "It isn't dinner without conversation, how about we try the ghost box again?"

"I don't know Shane i just-" his shoulders tensed and his grip on his friends long fingers tightened, if only for a second before relaxing again at the sound of his voice.

"Look, we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with." it was strange how a few choice words from the taller man's mouth could completely change his demeanor. Shane probably had no idea what he was saying, no direct contact between his mouth and his brain forming perfect coherent sentences to ease a logical thinker like Ryan. It was like he merely spewed any half decent thought he could muster in the moment and it worked just fine. Because they were his words from his mind out of his mouth and it was just all so perfectly Shane. So Ryan drank his words in like strong wine and enjoyed getting tipsy. "She clearly doesn't want to hurt us or she would have done it already, right? What harm could it do?"

"I mean- okay I guess," with those words of confirmation Shane's small smile grew ten times the larger into a full blown grin "but I don't I'll be able to get it". Ryan gestured lamely to his lower half with his free hand, Shane wasn't sure if he was he was referring to his tense legs still trembling occasionally and surely not able to support his own weight, or if it were a more direct reference to the state of their linked hands. He found himself secretly hoping for the later, what if they never did this again? Shane sure as hell wasn't going to ruin this before it's even started.. Whatever this is.

Olive rolled her eyes at this, their obliviousness was so extreme she even contemplated it being sham, but she knew better than anyone that there's no reason to deny yourself happiness like that, not while you still can. While it's still there, clutching your hand with white knuckles and a fierce intensity, sharp features that soften with a single glance at your face, a gentle expression of admiration taking over for a moment and leaving just as quickly as it came.

Olive lazily lifted a finger at the small black machine that resembled or father's old radio, urging it towards her. And just like that, with the flick of her wrist, merely moving a muscle, the box was in the air and slowly navigating through the crowded kitchen, gentle movements both in fear of breaking the tech as well as breaking Ryan's entire being. It landed softly as if it'd be placed like a feather by an angel and Ryan couldn't even bring himself to feel afraid.

Afraid of a young girl, who made them dinner and played truth or dare with them through an ouija board, a girl who brought him his property sheerly because he expressed not being too keen on doing it himself, his friends wouldn't even do that! Was she a friend? Well, actually Shane did that for him on occasion. Suddenly painstakingly aware of Shane's pulse beneath his fingertips, his pale skin warm and soft, Ryan had to ask himself, was he a friend? Is that all he wanted him to be?

"Hey check it out Ry! She's like a little maid," Shane laughed waking him from his imagination, a maid? Clearly it was a joke and Olive took no offence to it, hell she lived through the prime of sexism, nothing offended her anymore. Shane didn't refer to her as a friend of course he didn't do that she's a dead woman for crying out loud Ryan!

"Thanks Ollie!" Shane smiled and suddenly the lights on the box started flashing as it roared to life, like it was her way of saying 'you're welcome'. Calling the ghost by a nickname probably wasn't helping with his mental friend or foe debate.

"What'dya say miss Thomas," Shane spoke loudly and clearly into the speaker as if it would in anyway affect what she heard, a fact she found hilarious letting out a small giggle that somehow made it's way back out through the speaker behind the crackling and buzzing of differing channels "You ready for a chat?"

A faint voice that sounded awfully like "Always, Shane" resonated through the box, shocking Olive considering she'd never really used one of these before, sure people came in and out of her home with them but she'd never actively try to engage with those morons. Why bother, if she'd learnt anything is how some men can treat her like garbage, a clip for a show and then a painful visit from an exorcist to repay her for her troubles, no thank you! But maybe this was different, she thought maybe they were different. Maybe they thought she was different?

Ryan sure thought she was something. Watching the way she made easy conversation with his best friend over a radio, as if they'd known each other for years, as if Shane was never a skeptic and openly committed to cases like this all the time, the way they bounced back and forth off of each other made something in his stomach flip. Something inside him said, maybe she is different?

He'd always thought the essence of anything supernatural was scary, but maybe, just maybe, she was scared as well? Like when you see a spider as a child and your mother places a warm hand on your shoulder and reassures you that 'they're just as scared as you are, to them we are the monsters'. He thought about her father and all the monsters she truly had faced, then he thought about the way she treated them like guests despite knowing nothing of their intentions at all. And he thought, maybe, just maybe, if he could overcome a fear of spiders, he could overcome this one too.