In only a few days, they are midway through the trudge that is October. It is becoming too cold to spend nights outside, wandering the streets. In fact, even loitering by the park or in the convenience store parking lot is awfully cold. Once, Barry stood outside and nearly asked Eva for a dart, a disgusting sign of the debauchery they are forced to experience every week.

On Sunday, they are still in the church during service. Many of them leave during this time, since they have to be quiet. Few of the dead would have predicted that Leo would intend on staying. Certainly, Nico hadn't expected it. Even Ambrose had left, and he usually sits near the top of the basement stairs, an ear pressed to the door, feeling the hum of hymns and prayers reverberating through the wood.

Leo did want to stay, and so Nico offered to join him.'

Ajay stayed as well. He remembers sitting in the pews during a service, watching the pastor. That day, he gave himself away to Audrey. The mistake no longer lingers in the room, like the smell of the body that she removed.

They have mostly been quiet. It's a shame, since Este has not betrayed him. As Ajay sits with Leo at the fold-out table in the basement, he thinks of her. He thinks of something she said, something about helping Eva solve their financial problems.

It would be helpful, since Nico is cooking brunch and is using the last of the eggs. They have to eat so many non-perishables given that one fridge is not designed to store enough food for twelve people.

Surprisingly, Nico can almost cook. They often find meals with multiple components quite distracting, but eggs and sausages and toast aren't all that complicated. Nico looks over their shoulder, but they can't quite see Leo from this angle.

"I'm doing overhard," Nico calls out. "Hope that's okay, Leo."

Leo nods. Above him, he can hear the muffled voice of the pastor. He stares forward at the wall, looking at a crack in the paint. If they are lucky, it goes through into the foundation and the church will fall down on top of them all.

Ajay leans forward, resting on his elbows at the table. He whispers so only Leo can hear him, "it's not too late to go to the police."

They replaced the lockbox. It likely won't have the pastor's fingerprints on it. No, they cannot go to the police. It has been weeks and the police have never followed up with them, and Leo has a prickling sense of fear on the back of his neck. He feels like a sitting duck here.

"I can do sunny-side up," Nico calls out to Leo.

They just want to get the cooking over with, and to look Leo in the face and tell him that it's perfectly normal that things aren't okay. Nico knows that this church basement does Leo no good. They just want to be someone who does something good for Leo.

Nico does not like feeling the buzz of service above their heads. They feel like Judas. Their treason could also begin with a kiss.

"Listen," Ajay swallows. He looks at Leo, "people are relying on you, Leo. You've got to turn this pain into power. People are going to start freaking out if you don't keep it together."

It's Leo's fault. Everything is always Leo's fault. They are going to panic because they are afraid of him. They have no reason not to fear him.

Nico turns off the burner. The eggs are barely over easy, but it will have to do, because Leo can hear Ajay whispering and doesn't know what he's saying. So, Nico plates three plates quickly, and stacks them on their arms quickly. They were a barista in Montreal part-time, and a model of course, but never a server. Nico manages to make it into the room.

When they enter, Ajay pulls back from Leo. The three of them sit together and start eating. Leo's stomach doesn't feel right in him, and he doesn't make any pretense of even picking up his fork to move the food around. Ajay notices, watching carefully.

"It could have used hashbrowns," Nico points out. "Or coffee, I suppose. I mean, it would be really nice if there were little café music. Maybe you could use the guitar, Lee?"

Blinking, Leo turns his head to face Nico, "I mean... Fallon is better at guitar than I am."

"Well, I like when you play it," Nico smiles. They pause, "I just think we need a day out of here. Ajay, you know this place better than I do. Where would you go here?"

Ajay shrugs. He never liked drinking really, and there is so little to do here that people drink themselves silly. It happened to him at the busher, and to Este the other night as well.

"Maybe, we could take some of the stuff from storage and dress up for Halloween!" Nico nearly snorts. "Or we could just cut some holes in sheets and go as ghosts."

Leo smiles, just a bit of a quirk on his lips. Ajay looks between them. Somehow, Nico was able to do what Ajay's been trying to do for days. At the very least, Ajay is sure that the church basement will not ruin Leo. At the very least, he can be a bit happy down here.

~~~

Around the corner from the church, at the park, a few of the others have gathered. It's easier than wandering the streets looking for nothing to do. Barry sits on the park bench, a notebook in their hands. Lydia was on the swing set with Clare but the pair have since wandered off. It's better this way since Barry actually has wanted to work on their poetry.

Kaia is perched on top of the equipment, sitting on the roof of a slide, watching the scene unfold. It's too early in the morning for her. If it weren't for Clare, dragging Kaia to the library every day in the afternoon, Kaia would have become nocturnal by now. She doesn't like the idea of having her eyes closed in the church at night, when everyone else is sleeping.

The pastor probably killed girls that look like her.

She climbs down, forcing herself down the slide. The plastic isn't that cold. The wind is strong this morning, and the sky is overcast. Somewhere far away, she can hear a truck backing up, peeping loud. On the way here, they passed by workers finishing filling in a pothole. It reminds her of something that was explained to her by coworkers in British Columbia, years ago.

There are only two seasons in Canada, winter and construction. Construction is about to end.

Kaia lands on the ground. She walks over to Barry, sitting down on the bench beside them.

"Anything new?" she asks.

Barry passes Kaia the notebook. It is similar to the last one Barry showed her.

You once told me your hair was dirt brown
And I became an archeologist
The ancient wonders of the world buried beneath my feet
Glittering jewels and metals worth the price of ancient curses
And when the artifacts would be prepared for display in museums
I would weep over the sink as they scrubbed away the dirt

Once again, Kaia traces over the words.

"You know she's gone then?" Kaia looks over at him. "The woman you loved?"

Barry nods. This is Lydia, but it's not his Lydia. Barry had never given much thought to parallel universes but if you had asked them about it prior to all of this, Barry is sure they would have told anyone that Lydia would be theirs in any universe. This Lydia is so much, but she's not Barry's. Not his to hold, to have, to praise. All she is now is his to desire, to lust after.

The worst part is, he likes this Lydia too. The Lydia who has died and rejoined Barry, no memory of the nights spent giggling in the rafters of the opera house.

While Barry doesn't believe Kaia understands, she does. A month ago, she loved a woman who might have killed her, or at the very least knows who did. Rory is gone. Kaia is looking for what happened to her that night, but not what happened to Rory.

~~~

Lydia wasn't going to come along with Clare. In fact, Clare hadn't invited her. Clare had got up and headed to the payphone just at the edge of the park, next to the bus stop, and Lydia had followed. She kept turning her head, looking to see if Barry's eyes were trailing behind her. At some point, Barry had stopped paying her much mind.

It isn't the Barry she knows. Or maybe it is the Barry she knows. This second life feels less like hers the more time goes on. The voice Lydia uses to sing comes her throat but it isn't hers anymore. Barry would know the songs she's written, but Lydia doesn't.

This whole thing is a half-life.

At the payphone, Clare calls the prison where the boy who is said to have killed her is, but he doesn't respond to her call. She hangs up the phone and rests her forehead against the wall of the phone booth.

"We can go back," Clare offers, looking over at Lydia.

It's a shame, Clare things. A beautiful girl staring at a man like Barry. Of course, he's handsome. That's why he thinks he can get away with leering and creeping the way he does. Clare may not know Lydia well, but she can't imagine anyone putting up with an ugly man acting that way.

"I'm fine over here," Lydia shrugs. She looks at Clare. The black eyes under her eyes, the tight appearance of her skin otherwise.

If Lydia cared, she might ask Clare if she's talked to Leo. Whatever is eating away at them must be the same thing.

"Do you have more change?" Lydia asks instead. "I'd be willing to split a protein bar or something from the gas station around the corner. I mean, I'd even be willing to drink a pop."

Clare has a couple of toonies in her pockets, since collect calls to prisons can be quite expensive. Fucking Bell. Still, Clare shakes her head. On Thursday night, everything collapsed around Clare. A good investigator, traditionally, is willing to put themselves in uncomfortable situations to find the truth. Clare admires that quality in Audrey, even if they're miserable to be around. So, Clare lies to Lydia about the change, in case Lydia is insistent about Clare eating.

The truth is, Clare hasn't eaten since they discovered they were ghosts. She hasn't drank water either, or slept. And she feels no worse for wear than she did in the weeks leading up to the decision. Just as tired and hungry and thirsty as always. Always wanting. Never having.

~~~

Fallon should have probably just stayed in the basement with Leo. She couldn't though. Her cot is next to Audrey's, who claimed to have disposed of the body just after dawn but has come back every day since smelling like death.

Realistically, Fallon should have told Clare. However, she's out most days with Kaia burrowed in the library's archives. Still, Fallon could have done it. She didn't want to tell Leo about it. Actually, Leo is the entire reason she is here at all.

By here, Fallon means in a condemned apartment building after watching Audrey sneak inside. It's not empty. There are some blankets, mattresses, and in some places needles on the floor. Fallon steps around them carefully. She hears a man talking somewhere far away.

Corrin screams. She recognizes her voice. Fallon turns her head, peering around. It is not the shrill screech Corrin makes when watching a scary movie, nor a whoop at a concert, nor even the thrill of a rollercoaster. Fallon hurries in the direction she heard it.

The guttural sound Corrin made when they found Bagel, the cat that brought them together, on the ground outside of their apartment building. It was a few days before Fallon had decided to propose, a month before her death. That was the sound she just heard.

Fallon walks into a room and sees Audrey. The young woman looks up at her, the carving knife from Nico in their hand. Fallon looks around at Audrey, expecting to find Corrin but she doesn't.

Did she just imagine it?

"Are you going to help?" Audrey asks.

Fallon scowls, "that's some fucking nerve."

Audrey shrugs, turning back to the body. So far, the pair of them have made very little progress. The body that might be Audrey's is cooperating. Audrey has compared their hair to its, holding them up and looking for some sign it's not right. Audrey has plucked out too many hairs for how impossible the task actually was. Audrey has also taken rulers from the children's supply bins to measure the bones, hold them up against her legs. She's calculated how long all her bones should be, given average statistics she's found in the library. It could be her. It could be a woman of her height, with her hair colour.

The body, at least, isn't rebelling with this process. It doesn't smell as putrid to Audrey as it did days ago. Audrey is unaware that she has become accustomed to the smell of her body, and not that the body has grown to lose its stench.

"You have..." Fallon trails off. She rubs her palm harshly against her cheek, tucking the hair behind her ear. "You have some fucking nerve. Get rid of this."

"The junkies who come here don't mind," Audrey shrugs.

"Don't call them that."

"Why?" Audrey laughs. "They killed you, you know?"

Fallon's entire body burns with heat, "you're a fucking nightmare, Audrey. Get rid of the fucking body. You never should have dug it up. You should never have brought it into the church, and you shouldn't be hiding it here. Dispose of it."

Audrey laughs, "you think you're going to tell me what to do, Fallon Evergreen? Please. You won't even go say hello to your grieving fiancé."

Fallon feels her hands shaking. She wants to kick Audrey, or at least her body, but Fallon knows she'll regret it anywhere. She's tempted to scream, the same wail that came out of Corrin on the night they found their cat dead. Instead, she goes into the corner, grabs the empty duffel bag Audrey has been using to cart around the body, and throws it on the floor.

"Put it away," Fallon instructs.

Audrey chuckles, but listens. She puts all of the bones back into the bag. It isn't going to help her much anyway. A good journalist knows when a lead is no longer a lead. She then picks up the bag and slings it over her shoulder.

Fallon stares at her.

"Come on then," Audrey laughs. "Let's go."

"In broad fucking daylight?" Fallon hisses, suddenly aware she's been shouting. "Are you kidding?"

"You're bitching that I'm keeping the body and now you're bitching that I'm getting rid of it?" Audrey rolls her eyes. She barrels through Fallon, nearly knocking the girl over. "Pick a struggle."

~~~

Ambrose knows that his mother will not be home during Sunday morning service. So, that is when he goes home. Leander will almost definitely be there, unless Ambrose's mother has made him go too. If she has, Ambrose will just wait for Leander in his room until he gets home.

Finally, Ambrose gets to the door. He doesn't have his key on him, and his mother always locks up before going to church. Instead, he knocks on the door.

He doesn't hear anyone coming. Ambrose rings the doorbell.

Someone shouts out to him from the inside. Ambrose waits on the porch.

Their old door creaks when it opens, and on the other side is Leander. He's older than Ambrose is now. Seven years will do that, Ambrose supposes. His hair is growing in too, clearly recently shaved down short. Leander blinks at Ambrose, who blinks back.

"Holy fuck," Leander says. He touches his temples.

"Where did I die?" Ambrose asks.

Leander backs away from the door, stumbling. Ambrose takes the opportunity to enter. His brother doesn't speak.

"You aren't crazy," Ambrose points out. "I'm not mad or vengeful either. If anything, I'm thankful. You know that I always liked dead things."

"Holy fuck," Leander repeats.

"Where did I die?" Ambrose asks. "How too, actually."

Leander chest movements are ragged. Ambrose stands, staring. He isn't sure what to say. His brother always liked to join in on Ambrose's games. Ambrose didn't like for him to come since Leander would always get them into trouble. Or he'd prank Ambrose.

"Please, Leander," Ambrose finally manages. "I want to know what happened. You don't need my forgiveness."

Leander sucks in a deep breath, "I crashed into the town sign. You died on impact."

Ambrose nods his head. He sticks out his hand for his brother, but the man doesn't take it. Regardless, Ambrose nods.

"Thank you for all of this new life."

He cuts through his house and heads out the back door. It's the closest shortcut to the town sign.

~~~

Eva has been preparing to break into her mother's house. She offered Este the chance to join her, as she did last time, but Este had a better idea. After all, not as many people in town have as much money as Jayce Rodwell. They've scoped out the house every day now since Thursday, and this morning she saw Jayce and Kaylee climb into their car. Now, it is time to move.

It has been a few years, but Jayce has not changed the code to the garage since Este died. She punches in the numbers and opens it, just enough for Eva and Este to slip in. Maybe a nosy neighbour might notice, but it won't matter to Este. Hopefully, the old woman across the street will tell Jayce that the woman who punched in the code was wearing a red scarf.

They've agreed to a plan. Eva moves quickly since Este did most of the work for Eva in their last heist. She heads into their bedroom, grabbing all of Jayce's watches and throwing them into a bag. The plan is like that. Eva will steal the list of valuables from Este while Este keeps a lookout, and then Este will come back upstairs to steal the last of the jewelry.

They are only taking Este's things that are left. Kaylee is free to keep her things.

In reality, Este isn't looking out. Why bother, when she can head downstairs to Jayce's gun safe? It will be better to make it look like a burglary, to rob him blind. Eva can leave, but Este will stay.

Eva doesn't often think, but as she combs through the drawers, she thinks of Este. In this house once more after her death. They should have invited Lydia along, but Lydia was difficult in their previous heist. This time, it must just be them. They have to move quickly and get Este to a pawn shop before Jayce returns and realizes things won't be stolen.

As Este explained it, a wealthy-looking woman coming in with this kind of item is a bit strange, but a pawnbroker will assume she is mad at her husband or that they have some kind of debt from a collapsing asset. Once the items are reported stolen, every pawn shop will know what to look for. Eva is fine with being caught, but she'd rather have the money anyway. Everyone is irritated and not in a fun way. More police interaction is only going to stress out the group.

In the basement, Este finds the safe. She hopes the code is the same, or else she'll have to improvise with a gun. It's slightly ajar. Her heart hammers in her chest.

Her leg feels wet, hot. She leans against the wall. A sense of gloom comes over her, quickly.

"Please," she whispers to herself. "Kaylee, please."

Este opens the safe door. There is no gun inside it. Maybe she underestimated Kaylee, but Este cannot be sure. She doesn't know. Este bolts up the stairs, hurrying into the kitchen.

There are red roses in a vase. He gave her some on the night he killed her too.

Este screams.

Upstairs, so does Eva.

And so does everyone else, all on their different corners of town. All of them start to scream. 

~~~~~

Ahh okay, another long one. I think we are over the midpoint, but I'm not sure. Any predictions, thoughts or feelings? Let me know in the comments!