Chapter 1: You died :0
Chapter Text
Alison was curled up with Mike on the couch, clutching a cup of tea while rain poured down and wind whipped furiously, threatening to rip up every tree in a ten mile radius.
“Man, it is really coming down.” Mike commented while holding Alison tightly. “Our house is going to blow down like the three little pigs.”
Alison snorted into her tea at her husband. “Yeah, I've not seen a storm like this in a while.”
“That’s because it isn’t a storm! It's a bloody hurricane, Alison! Pat popped up from nowhere, startling Alison into almost dousing her husband in earl grey.
“Christ! I’ve told you lot not to sneak up on me, especially when I’m with Mike!” Alison said, sighing with annoyance.
“Not cool.” Mike said, looking up at the air.
“I’m over here, mate.”
THUMP
THUMP
THUMP
Alison sat up, looking around. “You ok?” Mike asked. “Yeah, I thought I heard a noise, probably just a tree on the window or something.”
THUMP
THUMP
THUMP
“Ok, I definitely heard that too” Mike said “It sounds like it’s coming from the front door.” Mike got up from the couch and walked down the hall to the door, hand reaching out for the handle.
“Don’t open the door, Mike! The water’s gonna get everywhere.”
She heard the door fling open from the sheer force of the wind, smacking hardly against the wall. Alison winced, that was more money needed for this damn house.
“Alison?” She heard Mike mumble. “ALISON!”
She got up from the couch right away, worried for her husband, who sounded as if he saw a ghost, which admittedly, would be frightening, if it were her ghosts.
“What?” She shouted back. “Alison, you need to come here now!” This made her run to the front door, immediately getting hit with a blast of cold air and wind, hair whipping around her face.
Alison saw her husband leaning down, half out the door. “Mike, get back inside!” She urged, while shivering and pulling her cardigan tightly around her. She saw Mike leaning down on top of something. The crumpled figure was awkwardly strewn out on their porch. Alison’s first thought was a wounded animal, until she saw a hand, a human hand. “Oh my god!” Alison gasped. “Mike, what happened?”
“I don’t know! I just found her here, I think she was the one banging on the door, she’s breathing, but so weakly!”
Alison looked down at the figure’s, the woman’s head, where a steady river of crimson blood flowed out and swirled around, mixing with the rain.
“Her head is bleeding! I’m going to call 999, try to bring her inside!” Alison panicky said, her heart beating out of her chest. Mike nodded quickly, letting out a shaky breath. She ran back to the couch and picked up her mobile, phoning EMS, adrenaline coursing through her veins, tears pricking in her eyes from the panic she felt.
“I need help! A woman hit her head! God there’s so much blood, she’s unconscious, still breathing, but I don’t know for how much longer! Button House, Surrey. yeah, the one falling apart, please hurry!”
——————————————————————
She felt her eyes open slightly, taking in the blurry haze of flashing blue lights, the sound of relentless wind. Odd. She couldn’t feel it, or the rain that came pouring down. Something felt off, like her brain wasn’t connected to her body. She saw a man standing above her, holding something metal she couldn’t make out.
“CLEAR” She heard the man yell, as brought down what she now knew to be a defibrillator, to her chest, sending out an electric impulse through her.
Were they insane? did they not see she was conscious, albeit slightly delirious? You’re not supposed to use a defibrillator on a conscious person, even she knew that! Weirdly enough, she didn’t even feel the shock. Something felt off, feeling a sense of disconnect with her body and her surroundings, trying to see through the dizzy fog that had clouded her brain.
“CLEAR”
Another shock.
Why weren’t they stopping? Her eyes were clearly open?
“CLEAR”
She tried lifting her hand, to push the EMT off her, but instead of making contact with an arm, her hand was sent straight through. A wave of nausea and a feeling of ice being injected directly into her veins took over.
She saw the EMT getting ready for another shock. She rolled out of the way and right off the stretcher. How peculiar, there was no pain again. As she stood up she noticed that her body hadn’t moved with her.
Wait. What?
She looked down at her hands, then at the body receiving another shock on the stretcher surrounded by people. Was this an astral projection or something?
“Hey! I’m over here! I’m alive! Helloooo?” She tried with no avail to get the attention of the EMTS. They all just completely ignored her for that doppelgänger on the stretcher. “Hello? I’m over here!” She attempted tapping one of them on the shoulder, but again her hand slipped right through, resulting in the same horrible feeling.
She steps out of the open back of the ambulance, into the rain and wind, again not feeling a single drop on her skin, not even the chill that runs straight to the bone in regular storms. She looks up and sees a couple standing in the doorway of a mansion, a look of extreme worry and panic in both of their eyes. The woman notices her and gasps, making her husband look at her in worry.
She runs to them, which creates an ache in her skull, nothing too bad, nothing for the ambulance to worry about she thought. She still didn’t understand why she needed an ambulance in the first place.
When she finally made it to the couple, the look of pure worry upon the woman’s face confused her. She was alright, dizzy and confused, yes, but alright nonetheless. She just lightly hit her head when she slipped because of the rain, absolutely no need for an ambulance, especially not a defibrillator!
“Hello, can you tell me what happened? Why is there an ambulance? And why do I seem to be having an out of body experience? Also, why the hell can I not touch anything?”
“I-I-, oh GOD Mike, she’s speaking to me right now! What are we gonna do?” The woman quickly whispered to the man beside her.
“Oh no, don’t tell me she’s one of them now!” He responded looking a mix of annoyance, worry, and a hint of jealousy?
“Sorry, one of who now? What is going on?”
She felt a tap on her shoulder. She whipped around quickly and saw a man in a standard, state of the art scouting uniform, save for the arrow
Lodged in his neck? The man spoke in a chipper northern accent, seemingly teeming with endless positivity, despite this being the most confusing days of her life.
“One of us! We’re ghosts! And it seems you are too, I’m Pat Butcher, here to welcome you to your afterlife!”
“What?”
A wild looking man jumped out of nowhere, wearing the typical caveman outfit.
“He said you dead.”
That’s when she screamed.
Chapter 2: You’re sad about dying or wtv :p
Summary:
She took a good look at the people in the room, all dressed in clothing from different eras, some with clear fatal wounds. it finally hit her, she was dead. She was alive and now she is not. She felt tears build up in her eyes.
She finally has a name! Yippee!
Cw: mention of death, panic attacks, swearing. General sadness yk?
Chapter Text
The ambulance had eventually left, with the dead body. Her dead body. Alison and Mike had given statements for the police report, and eventually the police left as well, but not her. The rain, which she once felt so strongly on her skin, was no longer affecting her. The wind that violently whipped her hair around was now nothing more than a memory. Once the chaos died down, she found her way into the huge house she died at. She supposed she hadn’t thought about that yet, her being dead. She just couldn’t believe it, it was ridiculous!
“Hiya! I’m Pat, once again, what’s your name?” She looked around the room, trying to convince herself this was just a fucked up nightmare, she wasn’t really dead! Nope!
“You're not real, ghosts aren’t real, I’m dreaming.”
“None of it is a dream mate! Believe me, I would never dream of this” The man said, looking down, as if gesturing to his body, or lack thereof, with his eyes.
She took a good look at the people in the room, all dressed in clothing from different eras, some with clear fatal wounds. it finally hit her, she was dead. She was alive and now she is not. She felt tears build up in her eyes.
“Oh love” was all Pat had to say before the dam broke and tears of realisation and panic came flooding down her face.
“I’m not ready to die, I still have so much to live for!” She sobbed through short gasps “I-I have so much I want to do, I’ve barely lived!” She covered her face with her hands, now useless breaths coming in sharp bursts as she tried not to have a panic attack in front of strangers. She felt a hand on her back. She saw it was connected to the caveman that had scared the shit out of her earlier, though in the light of the house, he didn’t look that bad.
“It ok, we here for you.” His gravelly voice had a sort of calming effect on her, and she found herself breathing slower. “I, um ok, I’m ok.” She said as she looked at the caveman “Thank you.”
She raised her hand to wipe the tears on her face, but she found that they had disappeared, as if she never had cried. that’s new she thought in shock. She decided to sit in an empty chair, staring at the faces around her. She made eye contact with the scoutmaster that had tried talking to her.
“So, you’re Pat?”
“That right, love. Welcome to Button House, we’re glad you’re here! Well- not glad exactly, cause ya‘ know we’re, um, dead, but uhh-“ He looked distraught, pulling up his shorts as he cringed at his phrasing.
She gave a slight chuckle at his fumbling. “So, I’m a ghost?”
“Oh yes indeed.” a man with curly brown hair said in a grave voice as he sprawled out dramatically against his seat under the window. “we are trapped, our life force zapped, forced to watch life pass us by, through memory and time.”
“Ugh, shut it Thomas” a man with no pants huffed “by and time don’t even rhyme! Oh now you’ve got me rhyming.” He groaned.
She averted her eyes from the man who had just spoken. “Where are your pants!?” She almost shrieked, sounding confused and curious.
“As I like to say, booze, a bit of rumpy pumpy, and out. Julian Fawcett, at your service.” He said almost proudly.
“Are you that Tory MP who died while shagging someone that wasn’t his wife?”
“The one and only.”
“I do believe that is quite enough talk about that particular act young lady!” A stern looking woman in a grey dress said, looking appalled at the indecency. “Now you will tell us who you are.”
“Give the poor girl some space lady B!” Said Pat sympathetically. “Would you like to introduce yourself, love?”
“Um, ok. Hello everybody?” She said, still unsure and nervous.
“What’s your name? I’m Kitty, and I’m sure we will be the best of friends!” A bubbly sounding lady in a fancy dress exclaimed, practically up in her face with joy.
“I’m Amara.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you” Said a stiff man in an old army uniform “welcome to Button House, I am the Captain.” Amara gave a slight nod and shy smile in acknowledgment.
“I am Lady Stephanie Button, now that you are under my house I expect you to be on your best behaviour at all times.” Lady Button announced tightly.
“We all call her Fanny.” Said the pants-less politician with a smug grin. She let out a small giggle despite herself.
“Finally someone that appreciates my humour!” Julian exclaimed proudly.
“I think you should be more concerned that you have the same humour as a 16 year old.” Amara smirked slightly at him, feeling a bit more confident and comfortable.
“You what?”
“What?” She asked confused
“You’re only 16?” Asked Pat “oh I am so sorry petal.”
She gasps.
“What is it?” Someone asks, but she doesn’t know who.
“I-I haven’t even thought about my family yet! What’s going to happen to my mom and dad? What about my brother? Oh god I’m never going to see them again!” Her emotions get overwhelming again. “What am I going to do without my family?” She wants to cry, to scream, but she doesn’t have the energy. She’s completely and utterly terrified about being alone. Her breaths come in short bursts once again, feeling taken over by panic and fear. Her vision gets blurry and the rest of the world fades, the only thing she feels is tremendous grief. Grief For losing her family. Grief for herself. Grief about being stuck in this house for what may very well be eternity.
She was suddenly broken out of her trance-like state of panic by the feeling of the living woman putting her hand through hers. She doubled over and gags. She looks at her with wide eyes.
“Amara? The EMTS were able to identify you, and they contacted your parents. They came as fast as they could, they’re outside now.”
Chapter 3: Getting a bit sad innit?
Notes:
Sorry for being so inactive, I’ve been busy. This is a short chapter, but pretty sad. I’m still getting the ball rolling with this story. Tw for talk about death, and crying.
Pat is the best goofy father figure ever. Also I’m not British so I’m sorry if the terms are wrong and awkward. Also tell me if there are any spelling or grammar errors, if I’m being honest I couldn’t be assed to use spell check online
Chapter Text
It was as if ice had run down her spine, burning and painful. She stared at Alison in shock, and sandness, and fear, and every other damn emotion that one could ever feel. She ran out of the room without another word to anybody and raced straight to the front doors, now closed. She reached for the handle but her hand passed right through. Again. And Again. She let out an angered sob as she couldn’t feel the handle, couldn’t feel anything.
“Open god damnit!” she yelled at the door as tears blocked her view. “Please” she repeated over and over in desperation.
“Petal” a soft, apprehensive northern voice cafe from behind her. “You can go through the door, love.” Pat says, outstretching his hand towards her. “Why don’t we go together hmm?”
She takes his hand gently and Pat leads her through the door as her eyes screw shut in preparation to smack into the door. She opens her eyes when the expected bruise never comes. The blinding lights from the police cars glare in her eyes, Amara squints to see through the dark night and heavy rain that she is sure would be freezing, if she could feel anything.
“MUM! DAD!” She yells out to the crowd of dark figures and police cars, but none of them even turn around. “I'm right here!” Pat looks at her sympathetically. “Love, they can’t hear you, I'm afraid.”
She ignores him and continues shouting for her parents, walking closer to the crowd looking for familiar faces. Her heart stops (again) when she sees them, collapsed into themselves with grief. She sprints over to them and lets out a shaky sob.
“My baby is gone” her mother cries out while her face is buried into her fathers arms. She rarely saw her father cry, even then his tears were nothing like they were now. He had tears streaming down his face and sobs racking his body.
“Mum, dad.” she chokes out through her tears. “I'm right here.” She tries reaching for their hands but they go straight through. She doubles over, gagging and crying.
“Please look at me!” She screams in anger, sadness, grief, all of which mix together in an overwhelming feeling of pure desperation.
“I’m right here! Please, mummy, please!” Her vision is completely blurred by tears. She tries again and again to reach for her parents, but her hand passes through everytime. “I’m here!” she chokes out while gagging from her hand going through her parents. She screams in frustration. She goes to touch them again, but she feels someone holding her back.
Pat has her in her arms, holding her back from hurting herself any further. She struggles and thrashes in his arms, trying to reach her parents. Pat speaks with a cracking voice, “Darling you have to stop! They can’t see you!” She falls to the ground in sobs
“I have to- I need them.” Pat holds her tight
“I’m sorry, but they can’t see you anymore love, you’re only hurting yourself.” He speaks in a soft fatherly voice. She continues struggling against Pat, desperate to get her parents to look. Desperate for her mothers embrace. Desperate for her fathers jokes. Desperate for her brother, her cousins, her friends. her life. She needs to breathe again, feel the rain on her skin, the breeze in her hair, the grass between her fingers as she lays and gazes at the clouds. Her appreciation of her life came at the end of it. How ironic.
“I have so much to live for.” She whispers, stopping her thrashing in Pat's arms. “I haven’t graduated, I haven’t dated anyone, fuck, I haven’t even had my first kiss.” She feels Pat rub soothing circles into her arm. “I’m never going to go to university or get married or have children or be a teacher.” Her last year streams down her cheek. “I haven’t even lived.”
“We’re here, petal.” Pat whispers “we’ll always be here.” She turns and hugs Pat, relishing in the feeling of, well, feeling. She grounds herself to the feeling of Pat’s shirt. “You still have worth, you are still here, and you still have a chance to learn and grow and experience life.”
“Thanks Pat. Sorry you had to see that.” She says, embarrassed.
“It’s not bother, love. It’s nice to have you, I missed my son's teen years. He’s all grown up now, got a son named Pat. He got my legs.” He says proudly.
He stands with her as they all drive away, the ambulance, police, and eventually her parents. The sun is peeking up from the hills when they finally leave. The sight is gorgeous, the sun's rays painting the sky orange and pink. She breaths in the radiance, the start of a new day.