She had been the last thing he had expected to see crouched before the grave of his beloved Shelly.
She looked tired and haggard, hunched over with dirt covering tattered clothes.
Eric could hear her quiet mumblings and broken sobs long before he had approached, everything else around the grave had been otherwise silent.
It was too early in the morning for most people to be out, wandering between stones wasn't on most people's list of things to do at near 3am.
He stopped a couple of steps away and waited a couple of beats before gently calling her name, not needing to be loud to be heard among the hushed dead.
She gasped and stumbled to her feet.
Spinning around, her eyes widened as she looked him over, mouth dropping open as she leaned forward and squinted while trying to register what she was seeing through the get-up and facepaint.
"Eric?" She asked in a breath, her gaze then darting to the grave beside her sister's before going back to him.
This happened a couple of times before her lips wavered and her eyes filled with fresh tears.
"You too?"
"What do you mean?"
She didn't answer directly, instead she wrapped her arms around herself and looked around skittishly as her leg started to bounce, the anxiety quickly building into panic.
"I don't know what happened, I don't know why I'm here," she paused, staring across the graveyard as she chewed the inside of her lip. "I remember the ward, the unending grief and then nothing before waking up with a year missing."
"The ward?" He asked, brow furrowing.
"They took me into psyche, I was lost with grief over..." she looked at her hands, unable to make eye contact, "I lost myself and they took me in to help but they couldn't despite their best efforts."
"You died there," he stated, expression solemn.
"I did," she nodded. "There's a long, complicated word for it that I don't remember but I managed to find some records and I know that it was from heartbreak."
"How long have you been back?"
"A week? Maybe two? I'm not sure, it's all been a blur since I pulled myself from the grave."
He nodded silently and then had a sweeping look over the rest of the graveyard.
He had come back on the year anniversary of his death and had been planning on enacting his revenge since.
If she was here now, still covered in the dirt of her grave crawl then he could guess that she had died just short of two weeks after Shelly's murder.
The girl before him had been so close to adulthood when her life had been cut short by the actions of T-Bird and his gang, now there was so much she wouldn't get to experience in life and they had to answer for that too.
This added anger came with a burst of jealousy towards her.
Why did she get to come back when Shelly didn't?
It wasn't fair, but he knew that he had to push that to one side and focus on the importance of the matter.
They were both grieving for Shelly and they all deserved justice.
It wasn't as if she had asked to be brought back, she was just as confused as anyone else would be.
Maybe now they could do it together.
Was she changed as well?
Was she even aware of any abilities she may have gained?
He couldn't tell by looking at her and he felt that it was too soon to ask.
Especially as she seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack.
"I-I'm so confused," she stammered out, her voice choked. "I don't know what's going on, why am I here? Why are you?"
Her speaking was getting faster and more frantic and he could see in her face that she was quickly spiralling into further panic.
"Hey," he said quickly as he stopped forward, his hands hovering over her shoulders before he stopped himself, "it's okay, we'll figure this out together, okay? I need you to try and stay with me."
He was hesitant to touch her after learning the hard way what could happen when he did, but he couldn't leave her standing there becoming a blubbering mess of anxiety and confusion.
Taking a step back, he pulled his hands away and calmed himself before focusing back on her, the gut wrench of her likeness to Shelly making it difficult to concentrate but he knew that in that moment it wasn't about him.
He needed to help her settle down.
"You'll be okay," he eventually said, taking two steps back before stopping. "I'll be right here until you're ready, I need you to let out what you need to but remember to breathe."
A part of him wanted to suggest counting the headstones but the idea came across as too morbid considering their circumstances, so instead he opted for attempting to guide her in taking some deep breaths.
Inhale. Pause. Exhale. Pause. Repeat.
"There we go," he coaxed softly, slowly bringing his arms out. "I'm right here if you need it."
She lingered for a concerning minute, merely staring at him as she continued her breathing before she lunged forward and secured her arms around his waist, her head coming to rest on his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her, hands on her back as he pulled her close, holding her tightly while her breathing settled into a regular rhythm.
As the pain she had felt erupted through him, he closed his eyes and tightened his hold, needing to feel what she had felt as an added motivation to what he'd already settled on doing.
His eyes were trained on Shelly's grave and a harder resolve settled in his chest along with the emotions and memories he had just gained from another tortured soul affected by that night.
Revenge had already been on his mind, that was unquestionable but with the added effect of the girl quivering in his arms, the sister of one he held so dearly in his heart, he swore to make them all suffer horrendously.
He hoped with her help but he would understand if not, either way he would be there to guide her as best as he could during his mission.
Then and only then could they each rest in peace and become a family on the other side.