Glass & Roses (BBC Ghosts)

|xiii|

No ep basis

A/N: This chapter is going to be SAD. There's also some homophobia used later in the chapter, but I censored the words because I didn't want to use them fully (as someone in the LGBTQ+ Community).

With the full onset of winter, came a time that Lucille loathed. She thought she would have gotten over it by now, or at least come to accept it as part of her life, but no. Death days happened for everyone in the Ghost World, and they were never easy but Robin was unliving proof that it wasn't a big deal; though he may not actually remember the day, just the way he died. Everyone had their death days, everyone mourned the life they so valued and missed.

Lucille felt bitter. She always did when her death day came. She hated the way she died, hated that her body had been left the way it had for so long before it got taken away. She hated how she was still trying to come to excuses for his actions, as if they hadn't caused her to die. She hated the whole day, hated how the other ghosts would give her pitiful looks, she just hated it. She felt guilty in a way she would say, if she were sat with a therapist and discussing this, she felt guilty for leaving her mother to deal with a large house in her old age. Hell, she even felt guilty when they held the bloody funeral at the house or a part of it anyway, and saw the tears on her friends and... the person she truly loved. 23rd November was a bad day, and she'd gladly remove it from the bloody calendar if she could. 

Lucille had cultivated a routine for her death day. She would spend the morning under her bed, in her distress she often just floated through the bed instead of lying on top of the thing, and if she was checked on by any of the ghosts would claim she was 'fine' and join them for a maximum of two clubs and spend the remainder of the day somewhere in the extensive forest that lay on the grounds, hoping not to be disturbed by anyone. However, this was before Alison and Mike moved in and a morning routine had been created, so it was going to change, even if Lucille was too sad to even recognise this fact.

The Captain had his suspicions on what day it was. He hadn't spotted Lucille in the window as he lined up for his morning run, and immediately feared what day it was. He made a quick journey up to Alison's room, stood at the base of her bed, clearing his throat when he noticed her stirring.

"Captain?" Alison asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "What're you doing?"

"What day is it?" He answered in reply.

"Uhh..." She grabbed her phone and stared at the screen until the letters and numbers became clear. "23rd of November."

"Yes, I rather thought so." Cap twisted his swagger stick in his hands.

"Is everything alright, Cap?" Alison was confused.

"Oh, yes, yes. Just fine." He nodded to her curtly. "Though I do think I'll miss my morning run today."

"Really?" She furrowed her brows, the Captain never missed his morning run. He cherished that routine and the slightest change would have him acting aloof and tense the rest of the day. "Captain, are you sure everything's okay?"

Captain made a kind of confirming noise, before striding out of the room with more purpose than Alison had ever seen from him. Was that what he was like in the war times? Striding around like if he stopped for a second everything would fall apart? Alison didn't take much longer to think on it, her bladder reminding her that even if she could see ghosts, she was alive and had bodily functions.

The Captain found Kitty leaving her room, and smiled in greeting. "Kitty, I have a task for you."

"Ooh, what is it, Captain?" Kitty's eager nature fought against his rough edges valiantly, though he schooled his face into a stern look.