"You guys are really awesome for doing this," Craig said, after he'd shown them up to the attic. "Seriously, awesome."
"It's our pleasure," Gerard said, then wrinkled his nose. "I mean, not pleasure, we're not pleased this happened to you. But like, you're welcome. I mean, we want to help you."
"That wall I mentioned is over here, Gee," Bob said, herding Gerard away from Craig.
"Craig, I wonder if you have any of these items available?" Brian moved in, showing Craig the list Gerard had give him. "Can you show me to your kitchen?"
Craig nodded, leading Brian back to the attic stairs. "Yeah, of course. Anything you need. This is awesome of you, really."
Mikey rolled his eyes at Frank when they'd gone. "That guy is way too excited."
"Right?" Frank grinned. "This is awesome, Mikey! Don't you think it's awesome? You guys are awesome!"
"He's enthusiastic!" Gerard said, looking over. "I think it's cool. It makes me feel less guilty about taking his money."
Bob was kneeling next to what looked like a plastered-over door on the other side of the attic. He had his ear pressed to it and he was doing that knocking thing Mikey had seen his Dad do before. "This is definitely hollow."
"If we knock it down, isn't the ghost going to come whooshing out?" Frank wanted to know.
"I don't feel anything from up here," Gerard said, shrugging. He looked up at Mikey. "Do you feel anything?"
Mikey didn't see why he would know, but he put his head on the side and tried to listen, or something. He didn't feel anything except dryness in his throat from the dust, though. "No," he said after a minute. "I guess not."
Bob picked up his axe – they'd liberated it from the house of this crazy woman in Maine who was into fun with succubi, and it was seriously Bob's favorite thing in the entire world – and tugged a mask up over his mouth and nose. "Stand back."
They all retreated to the far side of the attic and watched Bob lift the axe up over his shoulder.
Mikey was always worried, when Bob got to knocking shit down like this, that something would, in fact, come whooshing out, but so far it hadn't and this time was no exception. It wasn't like it was on TV, with shrieking and rattling chains and screamy faces whizzing past you at a hundred miles per hour. It was just Bob, smashing the shit out of the plaster, and working up a serious cloud of dust, and it was the rest of them creeping forward to peer into the yawning hole he'd created, showing a tiny, curved staircase leading down to an empty, dark doorway, and it was a creeping feeling of unease crawling slowly up Mikey's spine and sliding its cold, spindly fingers around his ears.
"Gross," said Mikey quietly.
"Yeah," Frank agreed. He looked at Ray. "We ready?"
"Maybe I should go down first after all," Bob hedged, moving some rubble out of the way with his foot. "Just to check."
"Just to check what? It's not like we don't know what's down there," Frank said.
"We only think we know," Gerard said. He was on his knees on the dirty floor, opening his bag and setting things out around him; candles, little vials of oil and water. He looked up at Mikey. "Okay, after Ray comes out, I need you to go down and set this stuff out on whatever surface you can find, okay? Light the candles, and use one of them to come back up the stairs and lead me down to Frank. The rest of you can follow me."
"Does that include me?" Craig said, appearing suddenly at the top of the other stairs with Brian. He was holding a tray with a bunch of stuff on it – Mikey could make out a glass of water and a half a slice of bread on a plate. "Or should I leave? I don't want to be in the way."
Brian nodded. "I think you can stay. It's your house. Right, Father?"
Gerard nodded distractedly. "Yeah, it's probably best if you do. It can get pretty weird, though, so be prepared."
"Okay," Craig nodded enthusiastically and brought the tray over to Gerard. "Here, I got the things you asked for."
"Thanks." Gerard took it and started setting his things on there too. "Okay. Ray, Frank, whenever you're ready."
Mikey moved to the top of the staircase and watched Ray lead Frank down. Ray's flashlight cast a shaky light over the walls, and Mikey could see Frank's fingers curled in the back of Ray's T-shirt.
"Mikey," Brian said quietly, drawing Mikey away a little. "Is Frank okay to do this?"
Mikey shrugged. "He said he was, didn't he?"
"Right," Brian said. "But did he mean it?"
"He slept at the motel," Mikey told him. "I think he's okay."
Brian looked troubled, chewing on the inside of his lip and frowning, but he nodded. "All right. But I want you to stay close to him, okay? Just to make sure."
Mikey didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do if Frank exploded into flames or whatever, but he nodded anyway.
"Okay!" Ray's voice came floating up the stairs.
Gerard handed the tray to Mikey; it was heavy, and Mikey had to take each step carefully on the way down so he wouldn't spill the low dish of water in the center of the tray. The space under the stairs was pretty small, but fairly clean. It was freezing cold, which was strange because the attic had been pretty warm. Mikey felt a trail of goosebumps spiral up the back of his neck; he shivered, and the surface of the water did the same.
It was a small space, but there was room for Mikey to skirt around Ray and set the tray down near Frank's head. Frank was lying on one of their blankets from the van; it smelled strongly of cigarettes and coffee and a million different herbs, but it made Mikey feel better to know that Frank was lying on it; that he wasn't stretched out on the cold ground.
Frank's eyes were closed, and his feet were bare, and he was surrounded by tiny piles of what looked like the cheap pot pourri Mikey's Mom used to put around the house in an attempt to cover up the smell of stale smoke. Ray was kneeling outside the circle they made, and after Mikey set the tray down, he pulled a box of matches out of his pocket, and scraped one along the side so it lit with a scratch and a pop.
"I love this part," he murmured. He set the match to one of the piles, and for a moment it flared brightly, casting a warm glow over Ray's calm face.
The little pot pourri piles weren't touching, but after a moment the next one lit up by itself, followed by the next, and the next. When all of them were a light, the flames seemed to stretch out sideways, reaching out to each other, lifting and joining until they weren't flames anymore but a thin beam of light, a perfect golden circle hovering a few inches above the floor. It was fucking cool.
"Remember not to break the circle," Ray said to Frank. "Gerard can pass through it to get to you, but not the rest of us, okay?"
Frank nodded. "Keep your arms and legs inside the magic at all times, check," he said. He took a few deep breaths.
Ray looked up at Mikey. "Okay," he said.
Mikey lit one of the candles and climbed the stairs again, one of his hands cupped carefully around the flame to protect it from the weird shifts in air pressure he could feel. Gerard was standing at the top of the stairs, wearing his purple scarf thing around his neck. A stole, he called it. It was flat and silky and had a gold cross stitched into either end.
Gerard never wore his full robes. He did have them, and Mikey had seen him in them a bunch of times when he was working in an actual church, but maybe thirteen layers of billowing skirts weren't exactly the most practical thing to wear on the road.
"Guys, follow Mikey," he said. "Kneel down in the space, but leave room for me to get to Frank."
Mikey led them back down, and moved to kneel by Frank's head. Frank was wiggling his bare feet from side to side and flexing his fingers; Mikey concentrated on that.
"How long does it usually take?" Craig whispered. "Channeling?"
"It depends," Brian murmured back. "We can't always tell from outside, but once Frank says it's started, we try to keep it as brief as possible."
Craig nodded. "Why's that? Is it dangerous?"
"It's not good for the body to have so much energy running through it," Bob told him. "Frank's pretty tough, though."
The staircase creaked, and Gerard came into view. He'd taken his stole off again; Mikey could see it peeking out of his pocket.
"God's peace be in this home," he said when he reached the bottom of the stairs.
The guys murmured back, "And in all who live here."
Gerard moved over to the tray, and placed a little vial on it. He took his stole out of his pocket again, re-settled it around his neck, and then stepped over the circle of light Ray had made.
It flared briefly and Ray shot Brian a nervous look, but nothing happened. Gerard knelt down by Frank. He was holding his rosary in one hand; he caught the crucifix on the end between two fingers and offered it to Frank, sliding his free hand under Frank's head.
Frank lifted up enough to press his lips to the crucifix in a kiss, then blinked his eyes open when Gerard settled him back on the floor.
"That wasn't me," he said. "She's here."
Gerard nodded and took another vial – Holy Water – from the tray. The circle's glow flared every time his hands passed in and out of it, but Gerard didn't seem to notice. His face was smooth and calm, still in a way it had never been when they were kids. Mikey still wasn't used to it.
Gerard gave Frank a small smile, then, passing his hand briefly over Frank's hair. "We'll do the CliffsNotes version, okay? If you start to feel like something's wrong, or you can't take it, I want you to tell us right away."
"Okay," said Frank.
"Mikey's going to stay next to you the whole time." Gerard stood up and started pacing slowly up and down the length of the small space, tipping Holy Water onto his fingers and sprinkling it as he walked.
"Purify me with hyssop, Lord, and I shall be clean of sin. Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. Have mercy on me, God, in your great kindness. Glory be to the Father, the Son, and to the Holy Spirit."
"As it was in the beginning," Mikey replied, along with the other guys. "Is now, and shall ever be. Amen."
"Purify me with hyssop, Lord," Gerard repeated, changing his path now to move across the width of the room instead. "And I shall be clean of sin. Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow."
He came back to Frank, putting the vial of Holy Water back in his pocket.
"Lucy?" he said gently, taking Frank's hand. "Lucy, would you like me to hear your confession?"
"She's scared," Frank said roughly, his eyes closed. "She doesn't know where she is."
"It's all right, Lucy," Gerard said, in the smooth, even voice he only ever used when he was working. The first time Mikey had heard it he'd been totally weirded out. "I'm here to help you. I just need you to follow the sound of my voice, can you do that?"
Frank gasped and convulsed again on the blanket, and Mikey saw Ray move to stop Bob when he reached for him. "Don't break the circle, Frank," he said. "Try to keep still."
"Trying," Frank gasped, writhing in place. "Fuck, this is so weird."
Gerard untangled his hand from Frank's and used it to stroke his hair off his sweaty face. Frank had gone so pale that the scars on his forehead were standing out, visible even in the gloomy candlelight. "We're not going to hurt you," he said. "We're here to help."
Frank convulsed again, his head knocking against the ground so loudly Mikey winced in sympathy. "Fuck," he strangled out, and then when he spoke again, even though it was still his voice, he sounded completely different. "Who are you? What are you doing in my house?"
"My name is Father Way," Gerard said, taking Frank's hand again. "I've been called to hear your confession. You've been sick, Lucy, do you remember?"
Although Frank had never actually channeled a ghost before, anytime he had to let something go through him like this, the first part was always the worst to watch. Frank's willingness to help wasn't enough; he'd told Mikey that no matter how hard he tried to relax and just let it happen, the minute he felt anything inside his mind that wasn't supposed to be there, he started trying to force it back out. It always resulted in Frank thrashing around and saying, "I fucking know, asshole," through gritted teeth when Brian inevitably told him, "You have to relax."
Mikey didn't bother anymore. It sucked to see Frank in pain, but there was nothing Mikey could do about it; he just waited for Frank to fight it out with himself until eventually he stopped moving and went still, breathing fast and wearing a frown, but otherwise okay.
After that it was mostly all right. Mikey didn't like it when Frank said things that obviously didn't come from him, or when he didn't recognize them. He wasn't really clear on the mechanics of it all – he didn't know if Frank was still in there, or if he had to temporarily vacate the premises, or if he was just hidden away in like, his soul's storage closet, or what. Frank usually said he couldn't remember much of it, afterwards, although once or twice he'd told Mikey some stuff when the others weren't around.
Mikey would never say this to Gerard, but the actual ritual parts of the proceedings were dull as shit. Mikey didn't understand Latin, and the parts in English were totally boring. It wasn't like when they had to do chanting for Ray's spells or whatever, because then at least there was stuff to look at, smoke and lights and stuff. Listening to Frank relay sins that weren't even sins – apparently Lucy felt really bad about having spoken harshly to the cook one time, whatever - and then say like nineteen Hail Marys with Gerard wasn't exactly a thrill ride. Mikey refused to feel guilty for letting his mind wander off.
He only really started to pay attention again when he heard Gerard finishing up, heard the, "In your all merciful and loving forgiveness," that signaled the end of the rite.
"Through Christ our Lord," Gerard finished, and Mikey leaned forward, ready to remind Frank of who he was and what was happening when he came back to himself.
"Amen," he murmured along with everyone else, and the light around Frank flared brightly for a second before fading into nothingness, leaving traces of soot on the floor.
Gerard put his rosary down and sat back on his heels. He touched Frank's cheek. "Frank? You alone in there?"
Frank didn't open his eyes. He didn't say anything or move at all, in fact, which was weird because usually he came crashing back into his body like a freight train, flailing around everywhere and spitting curses into the air.
This time he was totally still. He was breathing; Mikey could see his chest moving up and down, but his face looked like he was sleeping, like totally serene.
"Frank?" Gerard said again, frowning. He put his hands on Frank's shoulders and shook him a little. "Frank, come on, wake up now."
Frank still didn't move. Mikey had a horrible feeling in his stomach, cold and sick like he'd swallowed a pint of ice water. He put his hands on Frank's clammy face and neck; pulled his head to rest in Mikey's lap. He felt under Frank's jaw – he had a pulse, steady as always, which made the tension in Mikey's chest unwind some. "Frankie, man, come on, it's over. Frank. Dude, this isn't funny, cut it out."
"What's going on?" Craig wanted to know. "Is something wrong?"
Gerard met Mikey's eyes for a second, looking as clueless as Mikey felt. Mikey really hated that. "I'm not sure. Ray, you have any brimstone with you?"
Ray was already there, uncapping the little jar and holding it under Frank's nose like with smelling salts in old movies. It was strong enough to make Mikey cough and turn his face away, but Frank didn't even flinch.
"Guys?" It was Brian, hovering behind Mikey. "He okay?"
"Frank!" Mikey called, slapping the side of his face lightly, trying to keep breathing himself. "What do we do, Gee?"
"Try this." Bob moved in and grabbed the glass of water off the tray; he splashed it over Frank's face in one quick movement and Frank flinched, suddenly, then blinked his eyes open and started coughing.
"What the fuck," he croaked, wiping at his eyes, and Mikey had to restrain himself from punching him in the stupid face for scaring them all like that.
"Asshole," he said instead, hugging Frank a little closer on his lap. He pushed Frank's hair back down to cover his forehead. "What the hell."
Frank spluttered a little more, then started trying to sit up. Mikey pushed and Bob pulled, and between them they got Frank mostly upright, the color already flooding back into his cheeks.
"You're a dick," Bob informed him. "You just wanted to scare us for the fun?"
"You need to reconsider that definition of fun, dude," Frank said, propping his elbows on his knees. He dropped his head and took a few deep breaths. The back of his T-shirt was soaked in sweat. "Fuck. Okay, that wasn't my favorite thing I've ever done, just for the record."
"I told you," Ray said, shaking his head as he recapped the brimstone. "I said you weren't ready, and you were all, no no, I can take it, I'm the Ubermensch."
Frank laughed into his knees. "I don't even know what that is, Toro."
Mikey tried to catch Gerard's eyes, but he wasn't looking; he was carefully rewinding his rosary and putting it away.
From the corner, Craig burst out, "That was awesome! The way you channeled her? And all the prayers? That was amazing! You can actually feel that she's gone!"
Bob got to his feet and held out a hand for Frank, pulling him into a standing position. "I was worried. You didn't even try to punch anybody in the face this time."
"Yeah, I'm a pro," Frank groaned, knotting his hands and stretching his arms out over his head. He nodded at Gerard and Ray. "Mostly I just lay there, dude, it's these guys you should be thanking."
"But I am!" Craig came forward and started shaking all their hands, grinning his creepy grin all over his face. "I'm thanking all of you! Seriously, awesome, amazing. Thank you so much!"
"You're welcome," Gerard smiled, tugging his stole from around his neck and folding it with small, nervous movements of his hands. "It's our pleasure, really."
"Speak for yourself," Frank remarked.
"I've never seen anything like that before!" Craig was enthusing to Ray. "How did you find out you could do this stuff? Did you train? Are you in a coven?"
"Uh," Ray said brilliantly, and then Brian stepped in, inserting himself between Ray and Craig and leading Craig off towards the stairs.
"I'm so happy we could help you out," he said smoothly, stepping back to let Craig go first. "I hope you'll remember us if you should ever run into a problem of a similar nature in future?"
Mikey watched them climb the stairs, then raised an eyebrow at Frank. "If Brian had a superpower..."
Frank laughed, rolling his neck on his shoulders. "Right?"