Ghost House

: t w o :

When Jeremy returned to his bedroom, the spirits had taken on incorporeal bodies and were waiting for the teenager's reaction to his no longer orderly room. At first, he just stood in the doorway as he looked at the small changes, but they weren't so small to the only living person in the room.

Untucked edges, disheveled desk and a disorganized closet; Jeremy was overwhelmed with a sudden influx of anxiety. He quickly dropped his backpack next to the door and worked quickly to fix everything. It only took him a few minutes, but he was repeatedly checking his work. He was nervous at the thought of getting it wrong again. He couldn't comprehend how he had messed it up but was glad it was an easy fix.

The anxiety didn't settle well though and was continuing to flare up until he re-tucked the sheet corners a second time and readjusted the distances between the pencils. When that didn't help as much as he would've liked, he took off his thick silver ring and began to polish it in the middle of the room. He stood there for seemingly countless minutes cleaning the ring, holding it delicately with a soft cloth that Jeremy kept in his pocket for his glasses. It worked well for his ring.

It was only two minutes into cleaning the ring before George grew restless and retreated to the attic. Peter didn't last much longer than his girlfriend and left soon after.

Hunter, however, couldn't bring himself to move. He watched the tall blond obsessively clean the silver ring. He was positive that it wouldn't get any cleaner, but the teenager in front of him continued his movements. Time passed slowly as he watched, but he didn't mind. The ghost waited patiently to see just how long the corporeal man would buff out nonexistent smudges before he slid the ring back onto his finger and continued with his day.

His tongue was locked between his teeth, his blue eyes focused only on the ring and the ghost wouldn't have been surprised if it was really the only thing he could see. Hunter stepped closer to him, watching his deft fingers spin the piece of metal skillfully as if he has mastered the best way to clean the ring.

It was 17 minutes, as timed on Hunter's black wristwatch. He also didn't stop himself, but instead was knocked out of his trance by a slightly shorter but older man entering the room. They had similar eyes and nose, and Hunter speculated that they were brothers.

"Jeremy, mom wants- you okay?" Mike asked, his original intent slipping from his focus as he watched his brother nearly jump out of his skin and fumble to slide their grandfather's ring back onto his finger. His brother knew what he was doing, as he had been found in anxious trances cleaning it sporadically throughout the homeless months. It was seemingly becoming a nervous tic.

"Yeah, what's up?" Jeremy said, nerves tumbling in his stomach. He didn't want to worry his family with the fact he had completely lost track of time while cleaning the grey metal.

"Mom wanted me to tell you that she found the box with dishes," his brother explained, their matching blue eyes meeting for a mere moment, but the message had been clear. Jeremy was to set the standard of cleanliness for the house, and everyone else would try their best to sustain it.

Mike left the room after Jeremy gave him an idle nod. He was spinning the ring in set intervals as he followed behind the shorter man. He was anxious about his room still, and couldn't understand how he had made such a mistake. He would have to be more careful about his cleaning.

Jeremy was lost in thought when his foot slid out from under him on the staircase, twisting his ankle into a painful angle as he landed on his back on the staircase, bruising his shoulder blade. His older brother was knocked down as well but was uninjured as he was at the very bottom of the steps. Two of the three Haynes brothers lay at the bottom of the stairs, both trying to figure out what just happened.

For a moment, Jeremy felt as if he couldn't breathe. He was hot and cold; breathless but full of air; dizzy but grounded as he lay on the ground. He had never felt this way before, and when he finally took a deep breath of air, the feeling melted away instantly.

"Jer, are you okay?" Mike stood above him, his eyes filled with worry as he looked over his younger brother.

He helped his younger brother off the floor. Jeremy hissed in pain when he tried to put pressure on the twisted ankle. He blinked back tears. Jeremy was never one to handle pain well.

"What the hell was that?" Luke called from the top of the stairs, raising a blond eyebrow at his brothers. "Did you guys fall down the stairs?"

"Jer did. Should I get mom?" Mike asked as he helped Jeremy balance on his good foot. He tried to move his injured ankle, but could barely move his foot. Pain radiated through his foot and up his leg. He hadn't heard a snapping sound, but then again how often did bones actually make noise when they break? His mind was racing.

Jeremy grabbed Mike's shoulder, balancing himself on his good foot as he held back tears. His low pain tolerance was making his stomach churn.

Hunter was furious. Brody was a 13-year-old boy who died almost 75 years ago and was the biggest troublemaker in the entire house. He had stuck his hand through the staircase, causing Jeremy to fall when he pulled his foot.

Hunter was tempted to chase him down and tell him he can't just hurt people who didn't do anything to him, but Jeremy looked like he was going to cry and that make Hunter's heart heavy and sad. He dropped to his knees beside the living boy and reached his hand out towards Jeremy's swelling ankle. He flinched away as if he felt Hunter's touch but it wasn't possible, was it?

He closed his eyes and pushed his energy through his fingertips. The warm, white light of the beyond filled his eyes and hid the green hue of his irises. His hands warmed with energy and encircled Jeremy's injured ankle. Hunter felt his powers flow through his hands and into the swollen joint, repairing the torn ligaments and minor fractures along his joint.

A different type of warmth pooled in Jeremy's ankle, and he couldn't figure out why. There was the burning heat of an injury that he had originally felt, but the throbbing had morphed into a light pressure that didn't hurt quite so much.

The teenager tested his ankle once more but found that his foot moved seamlessly and without pain. When he was satisfied with his range of motion, he tried to put pressure on it. He didn't feel any pain.

His older brother stepped away from him, his eyes training on Jeremy's ankle. "You okay?"

Jeremy nodded and took a few timid steps. Once reassured that it wouldn't start hurting again, he walked into the kitchen normally to find new places for all their cutlery and dishes.

Hunter stood back, watched Jeremy's brothers look at each other and shrug, and stayed long after they left the hallway. His mind was swirling, his thoughts racing hundreds of miles a minute, and his vision blurred with memories. It had been a long time since he had used his powers.

Ghosts can't be injured or feel pain. Any "damage" heals instantly, so there were very few occasions where it was useful. It was only really used when little kids got hurt, as he couldn't stand seeing a child in pain. But Jeremy was a teenager, and he hadn't even begun to cry before Hunter was dropping to the floor to help him.

He couldn't explain why he did it, but he didn't regret it.

"Why'd you do that?" Peter asked from behind him.

Hunter nearly jumped out of his skin and spun around to face one of his best friends. "What?!"

"You haven't used your powers in almost 6 years, Hunt." Peter crosses his arms and leaned back against a nearby wall. Hunter's eyes trailed back to the kitchen doorway. 

"I know," he replied and returned to the attic.