The clearing hadn't changed at all. Gary crept along the familiar path, wary of interrupting the new group, but somehow desperately wanting to see them. To meet them. To know that it was still around, telling stories.

The fire was lit, and someone was there. He could see their shadow against the firelight, but their back was to him. It wasn't Tucker; the shadow was too short. He called out to it so he wouldn't startle the kid, but got no response. He moved closer, and the figure turned around. Not a kid at all. A monster. It laughed delightedly, and Gary fell back, and the his grandfather was there, asking for help. Begging for help...

His phone was ringing. He wasn't sure which had woken him up: the ring, or the nightmare. He picked it up, too stunned to even check the caller id. Too shaken to even be surprised at is grandmother's voice on the other end of the line. Her sorrow, though, drenched his fear. He was the reliable one. It wasn't until he hung up, after coaxing her to calm, after letting her convince him to stay where he was until morning, that he let himself wonder at the coincidence of dreaming of his grandfather so soon after his death. Like something from a ghost story. Like something that wasn't supposed to happen in real life.

It wasn't quite midnight. His grandfather had passed less than an hour ago. Heart attack. He sat staring at the phone, trying to guess if she'd be awake still. She had class tomorrow morning, but she'd always been a night-owl who survived on too little sleep. He picked up the phone.

Within fifteen minutes, Sam was sitting on his futon, listening as he recounted his strange dream and staggering phone call. Her hand rested on his, a quiet comfort in the face of a death he hadn't fully acknowledged.

'That's so weird,' she said when he finished.

He laughed. A strange, joyless sound. 'You believe me?'

'I know you well enough to know you wouldn't joke about something like this. So yeah. I believe you. Do you want me to come with you to your grandmother's tomorrow?'

Yes. He would love to have her there. Of course he would. Grams would probably even appreciate Sam's quiet sympathy. 'No, you have class.'

She squeezed his fingers and reached her other hand up to stroke his cheek. 'Let me know if you change your mind. Some things are more important than class.'

He smiled. Just having her here made the weird night seem rational, if not normal. Just having her here made him feel like he could do almost anything.

Sam had never paid such little attention to a teacher before. She kept looking at the clock, and wondering how Gary was doing. She'd never seen him like that before. Even after the most frightening stories they'd told around the fire, she'd never seen him look so... Afraid.
Free at last from the lecture, Sam gathered her pathetic attempts at notes and raced from the classroom. Gary and Tucker were both waiting for her outside. Both had that nervous, uncertain look of lost children. She gave Tucker a hug and took Gary's hand. 'How'd it go? How's Gran?' she realized too late that she'd forgotten to say your, but after four years of dating Gary, maybe it didn't matter.

'As well as can be expected,' Gary said, squeezing her hand almost too tightly.

'We have a favour to ask,' Tucker said.

'Of course. Anything you need, I'm here for you.'

'No, Sam. Don't agree until you've heard what it is,' Gary said.

Sam frowned, worried now. What could possibly be so big that they'd think for even a moment that she wouldn't want to do it? 'Okay then, what is it?'

'Not here. Tucker's friends have a meeting tonight. I'll explain everything there, if you're up for one more trek through the woods?'

She nodded, though her mind was racing. What was going on? 'Yes, of course. But Gary...'

He looked at her. He met her gaze with his steady, serious stare, the one that never failed to reassure her when she was freaking out. She nodded again. 'Okay. Tonight. I'll be there.'

The clearing was not quite as it had looked in is dream, but it was mostly the way e remembered it. He eyed the couch and chair. 'Hey, it's comfy!' Tucker said.

'I didn't say anything,' Gary replied.

'You were thinking it.'

Tucker's friends arrived mostly together. They wore that awkward expression people have when they don't know what to say. Meghan managed a quiet 'sorry about your grandfather.'

Sam slipped in behind them. She, too, eyed the furniture additions, and glanced at him, eyebrows high. He smiled and shook his head. He loved that they could share these silent conversations.

'Hey, Tuck, you said your brother was coming, but who's the chick?'

'Sam's also a former member. She's cool,' Tucker said. Gary was about to be relieved that his brother wasn't going to call attention to his relationship with Sam when Tucker added, in his singsong voice, 'she's Gary's giiirlfrieeend.'

Gary sighed and rolled his eyes at the inevitable 'ooooo' from Tucker's audience. He waited for their laughter to subside. He even waited for Tucker to call his meeting to order, though it took everything he had not to take charge. It was Tucker's group now.

But Tucker motioned for him to get on with it, differing to Gary in a way he rarely did even when Gary had been in charge. 'Grampa Gene wrote one last story before he died,' Gary said, pacing the circle, too agitated to sit. Besides, it wasn't his story. Somehow, he felt that he should leave the storyteller's chair empty, in case his Gramps wanted to sit in. Silly. Childish. Possible? 'It's been years in the making, but it's not finished.'

'Not finished?'

'He wants us to finish it,' Tucker said. Gary smiled. He and Tuck had never been much of a united front. It was good to have his support in this.

'Alright, what's the story?'

'Five friends discovered a magical charm. They thought it was a good luck charm, but they soon discovered that the only luck it had was bad. They tried to get rid of it, but bad things kept happening, and they soon discovered it was because one of the members of the group was using the magic of the charm for evil.'

'A traitor? Excellent! Go on.'

Gary pursed his lips. He doesn't know, just keep going. 'One of the friends stole the charm and hid it. He gave each of the group one clue, knowing that they'd have to work together to find the charm, and only by working together could they destroy it.'

'So what happens next?'

'What happens is this isn't a story, is it?' Meghan said. Gary looked at her, ashamed at his surprise. Spoiled rich kid or not, she was still pretty smart.

'It is s story,' Tucker moved restlessly to s different seat. 'A true story.'

Gary looked to Sam, who was watching him in that quiet way she sometimes had, taking in all his words, not letting anyone know her thoughts. He hated that look. It had made telling her he liked her so much harder than it already was. And yet it was comforting, too. Familiar in the midst of all the strangeness.

'Tell us everything, Gar.' she said.

He nodded,and resumed his pacing. 'The five friends were the original midnight society. The charm was something called the silver sight. The clues were recorded on a record and broken into five pieces.' He held up Grampa Gene's piece of the record and finally felt calm enough to sit. The cool stone of the storyteller's chair was another familiar, grounding sensation. 'Tucker and I need to collect the clues, find the silver sight, and destroy it.'

'So what do you need us for?'

'Grampa Gene was worried that someone else was after the clues.'

'The traitor!'

'Exactly. We need to hurry, to collect them all before someone else gets to them. To do that, we need help.'

'What, exactly, would we have to do?'

'We have the names of the other four members. We would need you to track them down and get their clues.'

'What if we run into the traitor?'

'I don't know,' Gary said.

Sam stood and moved to sit on the arm of the storyteller's chair, her hand on Gary's shoulder. A breath of relief escaped him. She didn't think he was crazy. She was still with him.

'What exactly is the silver sight thing?' Megan asked.

'It's a charm, probably a small thing, but capable of really hurting people.'

'Oh, I'm not liking this. Gary, listen, we tell stories. Fictional stories. This is... Real.' Quinn said.

'Exactly,' Tucker said, 'that's why we have to do this. Because it's real.'

'I won't blame any of you if you decide not to help. We came to you for the same reason Grampa Gene came to me: we didn't think anyone else would believe us.'

'Alright, give me a name, before I change my mind,' Meghan said.

Gary smiled at her and stood. 'Thanks Meg.' He gave her one of the slips of paper.

'I'll help,' Andy said, standing.

'Me too, but... Not alone.' Vange said.

'No problem. Why don't you two work together?' he passed them one of the other slips of paper.

'Alright. I'll help, because if this goes bad, you're gonna need me,' Quinn said.

'Thanks man,' Gary said, but Sam took the slip of paper from him before Andy could.

Gary looked at her, but nodded. However much he wanted her to stay with him, it made more sense to split up. 'Tucker and I will take the fourth name. Remember, it's the records we need. We can't find the silver sight without them. But... Be careful.' He tried not to let his gaze linger on Sam, tried to make sure each of them knew he was talking to them all, but it was hard. Maybe he shouldn't have brought Sam into this after all. Then again, would she have forgiven him for depriving her of the adventure? 'We can meet tomorrow in my dorm room to discuss our progress. My address is on the slips of paper. Good luck everyone. And thank you.'

They started to head out, but Quinn stopped. 'Hey, Gary, you forgot something.'

Gary thought through the conversation. What could he have...

'The story needs a title, doesn't it?'

Now he smiled, and they gathered around the fire again as Gary plucked the bag of dust from the hollow tree trunk. 'Haven't done this in a while. Submitted for the approval of the midnight society, I call this story...' he stopped as the midnight dust smothered the fire, leaving them in darkness. They looked around at each other, and as one left the clearing.

None of them saw the fire burst back to life. None of them heard the laughter that filled the clearing in their absence.