Closing time
Open all the doors and let you out into the world
Closing time
Turn all of the lights on over every boy and every girl
Closing time
One last call for alcohol, so finish your whiskey or beer
Closing time
You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here
Emma hears it first. She falls in and out of sleep unable to tell whether it's in her dreams or not.
I know who I want to take me home.
It gets louder and louder and louder until there's a loud knock on the door. She thinks it might just be the wind, and turns trying to fall back asleep. The urgency of the knocking argues with the warmth of her comforter for her attention. The knocking eventually wins.
I know who I want to take me home
With a quick shiver, she slowly makes her way downstairs. It's loud and off-key. She doesn't even bother with the porch light. Opening the door, she can't even act surprised. "What?" She asks and follows with a yawn.
"Let us in," Peter says. "It's cold."
"It's late," she counters.
"Please?" He asks. She stands aside as they both stumble in and land on the couch. Emma stands with her arms crossed and watches as the two boys slump together.
"Did you guys need something?"
"Water?" Roman says like a question.
"I meant something from me. I'm not a waitress."
"Okay, I'll get it," he says and pushes himself up. He wobbles and falls back. "In a minute. I'll get it in a minute."
"I'll get you some blankets," she says.
"We're not staying," Peter responds quickly.
"You can't leave. I'm surprised you made it here in one piece."
"I drive better drunk than sober," Roman reminds them. With a heavy groan, he finally forces himself up and stumbles to the kitchen.
Peter has already found the television remote and is flipping through the channels. At this time of night, it's mostly home shopping and old TV show reruns. His eyes blink, heavy, and he struggles to stay awake.
Hearing a rattling in the kitchen, Emma goes to investigate. Roman stands leaning back against the counter with only the oven hood's giving off a dim light. He has an expired pack of hamburger meat in one hand and eating it with the other. He's so invested that he barely hears her.
"You need to sleep," she says entering the kitchen.
"I'm hungry," he says without stopping. She moves past him to get a glass from the cabinet. She fills it in the sink. "Thank you."
"It's not for you," she snips. "It's for Peter. You know where the glasses are." Emma moves past him and to the living room.
Peter has taken his shoes off and curled into the corner. She puts the glass down on the side table. She goes upstairs to find and an extra blanket for him, and when she comes back Roman has joined him. The couch is fairly small and they're both tall. It's quite silly looking.
The sky is turning lilac when her eyelids finally start to feel heavy. It's ruined in a moment's notice. The door creaks open and is shut slowly. She cracks her eyes open, ready to tell Roman to fuck off, but is relieved to see Peter.
"What're you doing?" She asks.
"Roman keeps getting really close to me," he says, sounding a bit sobered up. "His body heat is absurdly high."
"Yeah," she chuckles. She scoots over to make room for him. He's surprised but accepts the offer.
"How are you doing?" He asks.
"I'm okay."
"No, for real."
"I'm lonely," she admits. "I miss my friends, but mostly I'm bored."
"You should have come out with us tonight."
"I can't drink. Brain injury," she reminds him.
"Oh shit. How long for?"
"I don't know. It depends, I guess."
"You seem to be doing okay."
"My head hurts and I'm tired all the time."
"That's how I feel without a brain injury," he jokes.
"I also keep forgetting what I'm doing, then I remember I'm not doing anything," she says before laughing. "I'll be fine. Then I'll forget where I am."
"Does your mom know about this?" Peter asks.
"No," Emma admits. "She doesn't need the stress."
"You two having a good time?" A voice wakes her up again. "We should go before your mom get's home." Roman leans against her doorway with an unlit cigarette in his hand. He rolls it between two of his fingers impatiently.
"Fuck," Peter groans and rubs his eyes. They must have only been asleep for 30 or so minutes. He doesn't even remember drifting off.
"Let's go, let's go, let's go," Roman waves to him.
"Lock the door," Emma says, barely awake.
"Oh, no," Roman says with a head shake. "You're coming with us."
"Oh, no I'm not," she snips back. "I'm tired. Two assholes woke me up in the middle of the night."
"Will you please come with us?" Peter asks and smiles wide.
"Fine." She throws the covers off of herself and dives into the arctic winter air in her room. "But only because Peter asked."
They take Peter's beat-up truck because Roman's expensive, luxury car can't fit the three of them. Emma sits awkwardly between the two boys and tries to not doze off. The ride is long and boring. Peter's truck can only pick up a few radio stations, one of them being a backwood Appalachia station.
They come across a town but keep driving through it. It's a couple miles out before the stop. It's still a residential area, but the homes have become more distant from each other and they difficult to see through the morning fog. "Where are we?" She asks.
"I had a dream about this-" Peter says.
"Jesus fucking Christ," she swears. She really didn't want to get roped into this.
"It's okay," Peter assures her. "We're just doing a little check to make sure everything's okay."
"You brought me all the way out here for a little check-up?"
"No," Roman defends both of them. "We brought you all the way out here because of the-" He points to the back of her head and clicks his tongue. "The thing."
Emma sighs and gives in. She's already here, she might as well go through with it. She takes her time following behind them, though. Peter's already knocking on the door before she even makes it to the porch steps.
He gives it a few minutes and knocks again. "Maybe no one's home," Roman offers.
"No," Emma says. "The car's here and there's no tracks in the mud. Someone's home." Peter knocks again, this time louder and more aggressive. "Maybe we shouldn't do this. I wouldn't take advice from two strangers."
"We have to try," Peter says desperately. "We have to do something."
"Let's go around back," Roman suggests.
At the back porch, they don't find much luck either. The three stand and look between each other. In the silence, her ear can pick up on something. She can't place the sound, but it's coming from the house. "Do you hear that?" She asks.
"Yeah, I do." Peter nods.
"Let's try cellar," Emma says. "It's an older home. It probably has stairs up."
The boy nods to each other. The cellar door is old and sketchy. Its wood is chipped and only has a cheap chain locking it. Roman digs into his jacket pocket for his winter gloves. "Don't touch anything," he whispers back to them. With one pull the chain is free.
Roman opens the door with his gloved hands and looks down. There's no ladder and no light. He lowers himself through and turns on his phone's light. "There's a staircase," he calls back up. Peter hops down without caution, Emma follows.
The basement looks haunted. That's the only way she can describe it.
Once they're upstairs the noise becomes louder and more recognizable. It's water, more specifically water from a faucet. "Upstairs," Peter says frantically. He takes off running to the staircase. The upstairs is carpeted and as they get close to the noise it makes a soppy sound. It's soaked.
Peter doesn't hesitate to open the door but doesn't move past that. Emma steps next to him and peers in. She quickly covers her mouth to muffle the scream that begs to escape her throat. A hand pulls at her shoulder, but she won't walk away. Roman tries to pull her back again but gives up.
The bathroom floor is flooded with at least an inch of water. The bathtub flows of the sides of its rim like a waterfall. There's a faded bloodstain around the inside of the tub. An adult woman and a young boy are laying back in the water. The boy is floating.
Moving past Peter, Emma ignores the calls for her to stop. She bends down next to the bodies and grabs the woman's wrist. It's poorly cut. She only has a semester worth of anatomy but she can tell it must have taken a while to lose enough blood. A glance to the other arm reveals another poor, but deeper slit.
Emma grabs the closer wrist from the ice cold water. The protests of not touching anything are lost in the air. Peter approaches from behind her and tries to intervene but it doesn't matter. Emma gives the dainty wrist a slight squeeze. A small bit of her remaining blood dribbles out onto her hand.
It's early into the evening. The woman is cleaning dishes in the kitchen when they come in. There's two of them- a woman and a man. Both are in white masks. The woman holds a gun straight to the mother.
In the bathroom, they kill the mother first. Then they take the small boy, screaming and crying, and push him into the bathtub with his dead mother. He stops fighting not long after the plunge.
"It's horrible," she says, quickly looking up at Peter. "It's so bad."
"We should go," Roman says frantically. "Put her arm back in the water."
"Go outside," Emma tells him.
"We gotta go." He rubs his mouth and paces on the wet carpet.
"Roman," she calls to him. "It's the blood. Go outside." He gives in, nodding and leaving.
"What was it?" Peter asks softly.
"Two people in white masks, like you said."
"They killed them?" Emma nods. "When?"
"Last night, probably."
"Fuck!" He shouts angrily. He failed them.
.......
"Where were you this morning?" Her mom asks and places a plate in front of her.
"I went and got breakfast with Peter before he went to work." Emma tries to tell herself that's what happened. There was no house, no bathtub, no bodies.
"Peter's back in town?" She asks with a bit of hesitance. Kay had avoided asking direct questions about the boy's disappearance but eventually pieced some of the story together. "Where's he working?"
"He's working at the garage on Olive Street. The old one."
"Good for him," she says. "He's doing well?"
"His mom's in prison," Emma says and pokes around at her plate.
"What for?"
"Some bullshit charges." Kay's not sure what to say so she takes a few bites before changing the subject.
"Have you thought about what you're going to do?"
"What I'm going to do?"
"You should find something to keep you busy while you-"
"While I'm what?" She cuts the woman off. "While you keep me locked up here?"
"No one's keeping you locked up." Emma doesn't reply. Instead, she drops her fork and crosses her arms. "Dr. Kerry is looking for a nanny of sorts."
"No," Emma huff.
"If you're going to act like a child you might as well spend time with one," Kay says as a joke with a hint of honesty. "She's going through a divorce and needs some help with her daughter. It's just after school and a weekend here or there."
"I don't want to."
"You don't have to do it. But, the money would be good," Kay encourages. "They both work a lot, I'm sure Sydney gets lonely."
.......
"She wouldn't tell me. She said it was a secret. It's not fair. I don't have any secrets," Sydney rants as they walk down the sidewalk. Sydney is at that age where kids won't shut up. She'll go on and on forever. She talks about everything and nothing at the same time.
What do you do all day? What's your favorite movie? Do you have a boyfriend? Why don't you have a boyfriend? What happened to your arm? Who's your best friend?
Every day, Emma walks her home from school, gets her a snack, then hangs out until her mom gets home. On Wednesdays, she walks her to her Girl Scouts meeting. Sydney jabbers on the whole way. Emma's perfected looking interested in what she has to say.
"I'm sure you have some secrets."
"Nope!" Sydney declares. "I don't have any."
"Everyone has secrets, Sydney."
"Do you?" Emma nods. "Like what?"
"They wouldn't be secrets if I told you," Emma teases. "There are just some things that I don't want other people to know."
Emma walks Sydney into her Girl Scout meeting. It takes place at one of the auxiliary rooms at the community center. The girl runs off to meet with her friends leaving Emma standing alone. She looks around at all the moms talking like old friends. They probably were old friends- Hemlock Gove High School Alumni for sure.
One of the moms seems out of place. She can't place it, but something feels weird. When Emma turns to leave the room she can feel two eyes burning into her back. She doesn't look back.
.......
"Hi, this is Detective Stewart. I'm currently unavailable. Please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks." Emma takes a breath and waits for the loud BEEP.
"Hi, this is Emily Parker. We spoke in Philadelphia a few weeks ago..."
He gets back to her within an hour. He's interested to hear what she has to say but says they can't speak over the phone. I think it's best we keep things face to face.
He's at the diner in town within an hour as well. She wonders where he came from that allowed him to get here before her. "Hi-" She greets him and slides into the booth.
"Turn off your phone," he interrupts quickly and a bit snappy. Emma does as she's told with a rebellious lack of urgency. "Sorry," he says. "You never know who can get into the speaker of your phone. Here, have some coffee."
"Why would someone want in my phone?"
"Why would I come to question you after your accident? You have very interesting friends, Ms. Parker."
"You can call me Emma," she tells him.
"Alright." He nods suspiciously, as if it's been a long time since someone offered him a human connection. "What happened?" He asks flipping open his little notepad.
"I just saw something familiar, someone looking at me," she stumbles out. "I can't explain it, I don't know what it was. It just felt familiar."
"That's it? Someone was looking at you?" He asks sounding a bit annoyed. Emma immediately feels the need to make his trip worthwhile.
"And my friend... He has these dreams-" Emma starts as a waitress appears. The two sit in the booth awkwardly as she rambles on about the specials for the day and what soups they have. Hurriedly, they both give a small order to get the woman away. The detective smiles to the waitress but his face grows serious as soon as her back is turned.
"Dreams?" He asks.
"Well, visions really." She corrects herself.
"One of your interesting friends?" He looks up from his writing.
"You could call him that, I guess."
"What did he see?" Emma does her best to describe the things Peter had told her. She's sure a few things got left out, but he got the idea of it. "Would your friend want to talk to me?"
"Probably not," Emma says. "He's doesn't trust anyone working for the government."
"Understandable," he says with a laugh. "Is there anything you're not telling me?"
"I don't think so," Emma lies smoothly. Despite the relevance, he's still a federal agent. She couldn't tell him about the break-in, or about the bodies. She especially can't tell him they didn't even report it. The corpses are still sitting there in the water.
He looks eager to respond when the waitress comes back with their food. He pushes out a fake smile to distract from the glare he's giving the poor woman. As soon as her back is turned, he leans in over the table. "Not even about the Highland residence?"
"The what?"
"The house you broke into a few days ago."
"Oh," she chokes out. "What are- how-"
"It's my job to investigate this string of murders. If you can figure out the puzzle, it leads you where you need to go."
"How did you know I was there?"
"You and your friends are not the sleuths you think you," he says with a smile. "I found a hair on the bathroom floor that didn't match the mothers. I had a feeling and I checked your cellphone pings."
"You can see those?"
"Of course. I have access to a lot of information." The detective takes a long sip from his coffee mug. "My job allows quite a bit of room for research. That mixed with a bit of observation can tell you a lot."
"Tell me something then." She raises her eyebrows.
"You have a tendency to not eat when you're stressed. That's why your health records indicate a strong trend of weight fluctuation. But, your recent weight loss isn't due to stress, not entirely anyway. It's a result of your poor coordination after the accident. You're embarrassed that it's hard for you to hold a fork and with your arm, you can't use a knife." He nods to the barely touch meal in front of her.
"You have access to my health records too?"
"Of course! I work for the federal government."
"I don't like that," she laughs nervously.
"Don't worry. I don't snoop, I only look at the relevant information." The detective leans back into the booth with his arms crossed. "I think it would be best for everyone if you relay that kind of stuff back to me. You don't want me digging and I really don't want to do the extra work." Emma thinks about it. "Look at these bags under my eyes. Don't make me work harder than I already do."
Emma laughs before growing concerned again. "So the government knows what you're doing? That you're using psychics and other occult things to track down murderers?"
"The right people know the right things, yes. You wouldn't believe what can get lost in bureaucracy."
"Why should I get involved?"
"Because you don't anyone to get hurt." He motions towards the waitress for a check. "And because, despite repeated denials, you know they're going to come back and finish the job.
.......
Sometime's life really is like watching a horror movie. You can see the twists and turns that the characters seem to miss. Peter has found himself in the position of screaming at the screen to little or no avail. It's so obvious.
Luckily, Roman was coming to his senses. He had been the one that pushed for investigating the house. He still wasn't completely with him, though. Peter needed Roman to commit himself to this cause before they could stop it. Stop them.
Destiny doesn't want to hear about his dreams. She has made that clear from the moment he returned. If it weren't for Andreas' he's sure one of them would have killed the other by now. Him going on about his dreams and her kicking Miranda out. He couldn't even get her to return his calls now.
They've both been so silent with each other that it startles Andreas when Peter says something. "If it's about your dreams, Peter, I don't want to hear it," she cuts him off.
"It's not about them, not really."
"Not really?" She asks. "What is it?"
"What could cause someone to have a vision?" He asks.
"Some people are naturally born with a gift." She smiles and points to herself.
"No, I mean like what you did last year with the guts and the worm. That thing. What could trigger something like that but without the guts... or the worm?"
"Why are you asking?" Her smile falls and her brows furrow.
"You can't get mad," he warns.
"I can't promise that."
"We- we went to investigate a house."
"From your dream?" She asks with annoyance.
"Yes," Peter replies. "And we found two bodies."
"And you touched one?" She guesses.
"Let me finish," he begs. "One of them, the mom, had her wrists slit open." He hears Andreas swear but continues. "We didn't know what to do. It looked like a murder-suicide but I knew it wasn't."
"Because of the dreams?" Andreas asks. Destiny slaps at his chest for encouraging him.
"Because of the dreams," Peter confirms. "And Emma just sort of went to the body and just- I don't know. She just grabbed at it."
......
For the second night in a row, Emma's sleep is disturbed by an unwanted guest. Well, she wasn't actually asleep. It wasn't that late and she was still thinking about all the things that were discussed at the diner. She had agreed to relay everything back to the detective, or Finn, as he said she should call him now that they were working together.
She doesn't like the idea of "working together." Being an informant, fine. Working together sounds as if she'll have to eventually do something. Emma wants to keep her involvement to a minimum. Perhaps now would be a good time to keep track of the moon again... She shakes it off. There was no proof that the things Destiny said last year had been true.
The vibration of her phone breaks through the silence like a siren. Peter doesn't wait for her to say hello, he just tells her to come downstairs. He's parked in the driveway with the truck. "Where are you taking me?" She asks before she climbs in.
"To Destiny's."
"You promise it's not a house with dead bodies in it?"
"I can promise we're going to Destiny's, but I don't know what she has hidden in there," he jokes.
Like Peter, Destiny doesn't greet her either. It makes Emma suspicious that they're both behaving so strangely. "Peter told me you saw something today?"
"I guess," Emma says in a questioning tone.
"Why did you go to the bodies?" Destiny approaches her and gets a little too close for comfort.
"I don't know?" She laughs nervously. "What is this? A shakedown? Peter and Roman see shit all the time."
"But you don't," Peter says in the background.
"So?" She struggles to keep up. "I didn't do anything!"
"You think playing around in blood is nothing?" Destiny asks sternly.
"I wasn't playing in it," Emma defends herself. "That makes me sound like a freak."
"It is freaky," Peter comments.
"I thought it was kind of like the dreams." She shrugs, defeated. "I just wanted to know what happened, so I tried to find out. It's never happened before."
"And you needed something from the person to help?" Destiny asks.
"I don't know."
"Blood magic is dangerous," she warns. "People get hurt, people can die-"
"I didn't do anything on purpose."
"I know," Destiny says. "That's what worries me."
.......
"Are you sure you're okay to go home?" Peter asks even though they're already halfway there.
"Yeah, I think I need to sleep for a while," Emma says. Her mind is overwhelmed beyond comprehension. She had hit her limit after her conversation with Finn. Destiny had just pushed her over the edge.
"Just keep your phone close."
"Are things okay now? With Destiny?" She asks once they're parked. Peter looks at her inquisitively. "She told me about what happened with Miranda."
"Oh," Peter sighs. "I'm still mad. She overstepped to start with, and now she's telling people?"
"Just me," Emma says. "She cares about you, Peter. You're lucky you have someone looking out for you."
"It wasn't her place," he replies sternly. "I want to apologize to Miranda, but I don't even know what Destiny said to her."
"Why don't you go ask her yourself?" Emma says trying to not show her disgust for him apologizing to Miranda. She didn't need an apology.
"I don't know where she is."
"Probably at Roman's unless she's met another person," Emma snorts.
"Roman's?" Peter jerks his head quickly.
"Yeah," Emma says slowly.
"Why would she be at Roman's?"
"That's where she's been since she got her. Did he not tell you either?" She chuckles.
"No, no he didn't," Peter mumbles.
"Yeah, it's really weird. I figured he'd at least have told you."
"Yeah, me too." Peter sounds too calm.
Emma gives him a little wave before walking to the door. She shuts it behind her before realizing something seemed off. Biting her lip, and thinking, she can't come with anything unless- "Fuck!" She shouts to the empty house. How could she be so stupid? No- how could Peter be so stupid? How did he not know Miranda was with Roman?
...........
Hi!!!! Thank you for reading!!!
I forgot how much of a mess the plot for season two is. I had to change to order of events a little bit, but I'm trying to keep it sort of to the script. I think the next chapter is mainly going to be told from Roman's point of view so pray for me please. That boy made up entirely of mommy issues. He's a mess.
Anywayyyyy, much love!!
Constructive criticism is highly appreciated! If there's anything you want to see more or less of let me know!
Also, not to be #thirsty, but if anyone's really bored feel free to send me prompts or anything on my tumblr. I need distractions from my real life.😂😂😂😂