Raulson and Character One-shots

Hotgomery

Prompt: Nora and Billie Dean express their feelings for one another 

POV: Nora

   I listened to my heels as they clicked on the hardwood floor on the landing of the first floor as I paced back and forth. When I went to the left, there was a massive window overlooking the front porch and the driveway. When I went to the right, there was a grandfather clock that one of the former tenants had brought in and was now a corpse like the rest of us in the house. 

   Only the clock, and all the other inhabitants in what was dubbed "The Murder House", were somewhat living. 

   It was funny to me how everyone pointed to the only logical suspect, in their minds at least. And that vile person was me. They believed that I started the murderous spirit. They believed that I started the evil and hatred that was closed within this house. They believed I was the evil mastermind. However, that simply wasn't the case. 

   My husband, Charles, was a practicing doctor with an abortion clinic in the basement. That was where the first murders took place. Of course I did aide him in getting the women and prepping them, but I was only that, an aide. Everything was going well until someone kidnapped and murdered our son, Thaddeus. 

   When Charles used his rudimentary skills to stitch our son back together, I lost it. How could anyone love something like that? It was in those moments of killing it with a letter opener that I no longer maintained any hope for me, my husband, or any chance at a decent life. 

   So I ended ours. 

   After that, everything was monotonous. Days passed, nights passed. I didn't make any real friendships with any of the other spirits. Hayden was only using me for revenge against Vivian and Ben and the older version of Moira was just someone that I could talk to and pass the time. I must say though that the silver in this house has never been prettier. 

   There haven't been many tenants in the house since Vivian and Ben died. If they are here, it's only for a few days before the hero's step in and scare them out. Which was fair I suppose. Just because we suffered doesn't mean others have to as well. 

   But everything changed when Billie Dean Howard came. I never confessed to anyone that I liked women as well as men, I didn't even let myself think about it. It was always suppressed into the deepest recesses of my mind. In the first couple weeks, I avoided her like the plague. I didn't want to see her. I didn't want to hear her voice. I didn't want to think of the way that she made me feel. 

   In the end, I had two choices. Continue this eternity of hell in an even deeper pain of losing Billie Dean, or have the comfort of knowing I tried. 

   And for about a month, I stuck with the first. 

   I had no idea how much pain a human could contain until I was forcing myself to ignore my truths. From sunrise to sunset and through dawn and dusk I cried for everything I had lost and for everything I could lose. I did nothing but sit in a dark corner in the basement beside an empty bassinet. Vivian graciously asked if I wanted to hold Nick or to rock him, but I refused. Temporary comfort was only that, temporary. 

   Finally, Tate was the one to rouse me. He came into my section of the basement, holding a cup of water. He looked annoyed, pissed to an extent. 

   "Nora, you gotta cut it out." He said, almost gently while handing me the cup of water. 

   "Cut what out?" I sniffled, hardly caring he used my first name so casually. 

   "This! You've been crying and crying for days. You're not quiet about it either. It's kinda hard to have sex with you sobbing."