*AUTHOR'S NOTE* hey, guys! Ya girl's back! Hopefully with much more frequent updates since I'm in the home stretch of classes! But anyway, thought I'd give a quick author's note mainly because me and my sister were talking, and through that I finally figured out what Jameson looks like. Because up until this point, I just kind of pictured a generic brunette dude in his late 30's lmbo. But anyway, I figured out that if this were a movie, he would totally be played by Ryan Reynolds. So yeah, I'll include some pics for those that are not familiar with this hunk. 😂😂😂

Yes, I simp WAY too hard for this man, and now it's giving me conflicting feelings about Jameson, but that was kinda the point so yee. 😂👍 Anyway, he's gorgeous, but I digress.

Anyway, enjoy the update!

Ciao, bellas!

~Smol Emo

(Y/N's POV)

I had just finished grading some quantum physics theses when Rita rushed into my classroom, a frantic expression on her face. I looked up at her, my brow furrowing at how panicked she looked.

"Rita? What-"

"It's Ean and Logan. I can't find them anywhere. I called Lydia and she said June's gone missing, as well," she rambled, clutching at her chest and trying not to hyperventilate.

I stood up from behind my desk, my brain kicking into overdrive. "Have you tried calling any of them?" I asked her, grabbing my things and briskly walking down the hall next to her.

Rita nodded. "The boys' phones were both still at your house. And neither Lydia or I one can get in touch with June."

I swallowed thickly, forcing myself to stay calm as I tried to piece together what exactly had happened. "Okay, let's go to talk to Lydia first, then we'll go from there." 

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and quickly dialed Jameson's number, muttering a silent prayer that he would pick up.

"Hello?"

"Jame, I need you to come home."

"Now? I'm kinda in the middle of training, babe-"

"NOW."

"Okay, okay! What's going on? Are you okay?"

"Ean, Logan, and June have all gone missing."

"You sure they haven't gone to 'Denny's' again?" he asked sarcastically; and even though I couldn't see him through the phone, I knew he was definitely using air quotes in reference to Denny's. Which I didn't really appreciate, especially right at that moment.

"Jameson."

He sighed. "I'll be home in fifteen."

I hung up the call, too frustrated with him to even bid my boyfriend goodbye. Rita arched an eyebrow at me.

"Trouble in paradise?" she asked as we stepped out of the university I taught at and swiftly made our way to my bike and her car.

"You have no idea," I admitted tiredly, sliding my helmet over my head and fastening the strap under my chin.

I could tell that this wasn't the answer Rita was expecting, but she held her tongue and didn't try to pursue it further as I started my engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

I zipped down the highway and back roads as fast as I dared; my mind was a whirlwind of panic that grew with each passing second that I didn't see my son. Rita was close behind me, following me as I expertly weaved my way in and out of traffic. After a few minutes of agonizing anxiety, we finally made it to our neighborhood, going straight to Lydia's house.

I frantically knocked on the door. After a couple of seconds and after he had peeked out the window to see who was standing outside, Lydia's husband Andrew opened the door. He pushed his round glasses up the bridge of his nose as his brow furrowed. He brushed a stray curl of red hair away from his eyes.

"(Y/N)? Rita? What's wrong?"

"No time," I said quickly. "Is Lydia here?"

Andrew nodded as he stepped to the side, letting us past him and into their cozy living room.

Andrew looked left and right, making sure no one was watching, before shutting the door again.

Andrew had died a couple of years back, and was now a ghost trapped in his own house, where he had died from a heart attack. His situation was similar to that of the Maitlands'. Not many people knew he was dead, not even his own daughter. He and Lydia had decided it would probably be better that way.

Rita and I made ourselves at home as we waited on Lydia. Rita paced around the room as I sat down on the couch, deep in thought. I just hoped against hope that the kids were alright. I couldn't bear the thought of losing Ean, too. He was all the had left of him. And I while I loved my son beyond the shadow of a doubt, it was a whirlwind of emotions when it came to Ean. Both on my end as well and especially on his.

Whenever I looked at him, I would smile proudly at the person he was becoming. But on the other hand, sometimes I would also catch glimpses of him that were almost too painful, because he reminded me of his father so much. His grin, his eyes, and even his laugh all plagued me with thoughts of the love of my life that I had lost not once, but twice.

I was jerked out of my introspective thinking when Lydia walked into the room, her expression tired and grim. She sat in an armchair across from me as Rita continued to pace behind me.

"I think I know there they've gone."

"Where?" Rita and I asked in unison.

She held up a singular piece of white chalk. Andrew's eyes widened as Rita gasped. I gawked in disbelief.

"No. They couldn't have-"

"I'm pretty sure they did."

I focused on not panicking as I stood. "The basement."

Lydia looked at me as realization flashed across her face. "You think they found it?"

"I'm not sure," I replied. "But I intend to find out."

Rita, Lydia and I all quickly made the short trip to my house, meeting Jameson in the driveway. He stepped out of his car, brow furrowed.

"Any word on where they are?" he asked as I walked right past him and into the house.

"Yes and no," I said, briskly asking my way down the hall and to the secret entrance of the basement. When I rounded the corner, the sliding panel in the wall was wide open.

I could hear Jameson's steps falter behind me as he saw the entrance.

"Uh, what is that and since when has it been here?"

"Listen, there's really no time to explain," Lydia told him as we all descended the stairs.

I stopped at the bottom step, taking a deep breath in order to brace myself for what was about to come. I took a step forward and came to the main room. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I looked around at the striped furniture and pictures strung up around the room. I noticed everything was scattered and turned upside-down, on their sides, and every other which way. Many of the photos had come off of the clothesline and were now littering the floor, scattered everywhere. Something had obviously happened.

"What the heck is all this?" Jameson breathed, stooping to pick up one of the pictures. "And why is this one guy scribbled out?"

"Jameson, stop asking questions that nobody is going to answer," Lydia mumbled bluntly.

"Oh, (Y/N)," Rita said, eyes widening and a hand flying up to her mouth as she saw the state of disarray the room was in.

"I know."

She gasped, meeting my gaze. "The necklace."

Panic and dread clutched my heart as I rushed over to the other wall. I breathed a huge sigh of relief when I saw that although a couple of cases had been tipped slightly or scooted a bit, none were broken, and the precious items within were undamaged.

I worked on moving the display cases back to their appropriate places. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned to find an extremely confused Jameson standing behind me.

"(Y/N), what's going on?"

I sighed. "Okay. We don't have much time if what I think happened here happened."

His brow furrowed as he simply blinked at me. "Um, okay?"

"All of this," I motioned around me, "is stuff from my..... 'past life', so to speak. The man scribbled out in all the pictures..." I fought back the tears threatening to fall. I felt a hand squeeze mine, and looked over to see Lydia giving me a reassuring, yet sad, smile as she fought back tears of her own. I took a deep breath and squeezed Lydia's hand for support. "The man scribbled out in all the pictures was my- ...my husband. He died almost nine months before Ean was born."

Jameson's expression softened as he took this all in. "So he never knew....?"

I shook my head, the tears finally spilling over and streaming down my face. "He never knew I was pregnant-" I sobbed, putting a hand over my face as the dam that I had been working so hard to build and maintain for so many years finally broke a little. I was being crushed by everything happening around me, and I couldn't handle the pressure or the weight.

Lydia let go of my hand as Jameson pulled me to his chest, holding me tightly and rubbing my back comfortingly. After a couple minutes of my crying being the only sound in the room besides the hum of the fairy lights, Jameson spoke again.

"(Y/N), I am so sorry. I had no idea."

I sniffed, stepping out of his arms and wiping my eyes. "It's okay. You had no way of knowing."

"Um, (Y/N), I hate to be that person, but.... I think you forgot to mention to Jameson an important detail about... him," Rita said, nodding at one of the photos.

I sighed and tried to figure out how the heck I was supposed to explain this.

"Um, my husband was a, well... demon."

Jameson only looked more confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that he was a literal demon from the afterlife."

Jameson was looking at me as if I had lost my mind. "I- what? How's that even-"

"I really don't have time to explain it all right now, I've got to find my son."

Rita stepped forward. "At least let me and Riley go with you. He's stuck in traffic right now, but he's on his way home."

I shook my head as I went over to one of the secret cupboards and opened it. I pulled out a dust-covered utility belt stocked with weapons from my days at the agency. I wrapped the belt around my waist and fastened the buckle.

"(Y/N), you need backup-"

"Rita, as much as I appreciate that sentiment, this is my turf. I don't want either of you getting hurt. The Netherworld's only gotten worse over the years." I frowned. "From what I've heard from Melody, it's getting more and more dangerous every day that Juno's grip on power tightens."

"I don't know what half of what you said means, but I'm coming with you," Jameson told me resolutely.

"Jame-"

"No, don't even try to argue. I won't let you go alone."

I sighed and tossed him a spare belt, grabbing a piece of chalk and heading over to the wall.

"Just do me a favor and don't die, okay?" I remarked as I drew the infamous door and knocked three times. Jameson opened his mouth to ask what I meant by that, but was stopped by the image of the door slowly swinging open, ominous green and purple smoke spilling out. The door made all the other lights flicker off, and a deep chill settled in. I ignored the goosebumps forming on my arms and legs and stood at the threshold of the gateway to the Netherworld. I looked over at Jameson, who had come to stand beside me. He was eying the portal with fear and apprehension in his eyes.

"Ready?" I asked him.

He looked over at me. "Most definitely not."

I laughed a bit before grabbing his hand, and the two of us stepped into the world where demons roam and spirits lurk.