October 17th

Alexander had given up on trying to go back to sleep long ago. His room was too cold, and the blankets kept falling off of the bed.

That was wrong.

The blankets kept getting pulled off of the bed.

Yes, that was it.

The laughter that rang out every time the blankets were yanked away was too loud for him to sleep through anyway.

Alex looked at the clock. 3:15. That made sense. They were always strongest from around 3 to 4 in the morning for some reason.

He hadn't gotten much sleep in the past few months.

Alex sat up, groaned, and rubbed exhaustion from his eyes, deciding it would be better to just get up than to lie to himself, saying he could fall asleep if he ignored them. But, of course, he wouldn't get any sleep, and he most definitely couldn't ignore them.

"You guys suck," Alex muttered as he stood and walked out of his room.

"You're no fun." A dim, pale blue light appeared out of the corner of Alexander's eye. It started as just that light, then it turned into a cloud-like mass, then, when Alex glanced behind him despite his better judgement, Peggy was there.

Or, rather, Peggy's ghost was there.

She looked just like Peggy did just before she died. They all did.

No, they didn't. And thank God they didn't. Alex didn't think he would be able to handle having to see them everyday if they all looked like they did when they died.

To correct their descriptions, they all looked like they did the day before they died, clothes and all. Except, the colors were muted, as if someone had mixed too much white and light blue paint with the colors of their hair and skin. They were fairly transparent, and light blue wisps of fog trailed after them wherever they went. Though it looked like they were walking, they really just floated smoothly over the ground, or, sometimes, they would be on the other side of the room, then they would suddenly be right next to him. Their voices echoed a bit, almost like three voices were speaking at once, layered over one another so that one was always a half-second behind, one was always a half-second ahead, and the one in the middle was the clearest, most them sounding.

Their eyes were the worst, though. The colorful, joy-filled, glimmering eyes that Alex had come to trust and love...now they were just white balls of light. Literally blank stares that bored deep into Alexander's soul.

Alexander hated everything about them.

"Can't you just let me get one full night of sleep?" Alex begged the air around him as he made himself a cup of coffee.

"But you won't get to see us if you are asleep." Lafayette had appeared now as well; his thick French accent could be recognized from a mile away. Without looking, Alex knew that Hercules was there too. They always showed up together; they had died at the same time.

"You're all already in my nightmares." Alex raised the cup of steaming coffee to his lips, splashing some on himself when he jumped in surprise because John was right in front of him all of a sudden.

"You dream about me?" Alexander imagined John's eyes filling with mirth and amusement at the question. Alex had known for years that John had liked him a little more than a friend. Maybe Alex had liked him like that, too. Maybe he should have acted on that when he had the chance.

Maybe he could have saved one of them.

No point in thinking about that now. After all, John was dead, and his eyes weren't filled with anything but air.

"Unfortunately..." Alex finally answered. He only saw John pouting at him for a moment before he turned away. He tiredly shuffled over to the couch and turned on the TV in an attempt to distract himself. Static. Of course. He turned the television back off, stood, turned around, and sighed in frustration at the sight of Eliza and Angelica.

"Sorry," Eliza said quietly. She was always quiet. "I wish I knew how to stop that from happening." She was referring to the static on the TV screen. Eliza was the only one of them who was always trying to be nice to him. She would help him clean up the messes the others made as well as she could, and try to fix any mistakes she made herself.

Alexander always felt so much worse when that happened. Every time they acted like themselves, for a fleeting moment, Alex's subconscious screamed at him, saying that it was them. That they were back. That he should hug them and smile and be happy again.

But it wasn't them. They hadn't been themselves for so long. Whenever they appeared, it was like a cruel joke was being played on Alex. That's what he thought it was when it had started, at least.

May 13th

Five minutes away. They were five minutes away when it happened. John and Alex got there as fast as they could, having to run half of the way because of the traffic that had been caused. The sisters were there by then, and Alex already knew what had happened before he saw the tears running down their faces. His train of thought flying off the rails, he only caught bits and pieces of what the girls and police told him.

...Laf and Herc...

...car crash...

...dead on impact...

His chest tightened until it hurt. He watched John gasp and cover his mouth, then fall to his knees, sobbing. The sisters held each other tightly. Alexander just...stood there. He didn't know what to do. He felt like he should be doing something, for sure, but he didn't know what. He certainly wanted to cry, but he couldn't. Shock was what this was. He understood that. When he found his cousin hanging from the ceiling fan one day, he had gone into shock. He felt the same numbness after the hurricane, too. However, he had cried when his mother had passed away. Alex guessed that was because his mother was close to him. Lafayette and Hercules had been close to him as well.

He finally cried that night instead of sleeping.

\/\/

Alexander was relieved when the funeral ended. He hated funerals. There were too many sad people in one place for him to be anywhere near comfortable. The fact that his friends were in the caskets didn't help.

He didn't go to the burial. He felt too sick.

He managed to work up the strength to go to their graves a couple days later. He had gone by himself, mainly because he wanted to, but also because John had locked himself in his room.

The cemetery was quiet. Serene. Alex couldn't remember the last time he had been to one of these. Maybe when he last went to his mother's grave. Maybe when John had taken them all to his mother's grave. Didn't matter which. His brain wouldn't let him remember anything right now anyway. He just hoped he wouldn't have to come to one of these again anytime soon.

Their graves were right next to each other. Convenient was not a word Alex had expected to use in this situation. The grass hadn't grown over them yet, so mounds of dirt clearly outlined where the boys rested. Forever, Alexander was reminded. He knelt down in between the two of them, his eyes slowly reading the neatly-written names on the headstones.

The names of his friends, whom he'll never see again.

He cried again.

Grief is a strange thing. Alex chose not to call it an emotion, instead calling it a thing. It was a monster that lurked behind you during all of your waking moments, making you too paranoid to sleep. It was a dark cloud that blinded you, keeping you from concentrating on anything but what had happened. It made you hear things and see things and feel things that weren't there.

At least, he assumed grief was doing that.

\/\/

It started with whispers. Little, barely heard voices in the back of Alexander's head. Alex had ignored them at first, passing them off as his own thoughts and imagination.

But then they weren't in his head anymore.

About two weeks after it happened, Alex was sitting next to John when he first noticed something wrong.

"Alex..." The voice was faint, tired, raspy. Alexander barely understood what had been said.

"Yeah?" Alex answered.

"What?" John sounded confused.

"Didn't you say something?"

"No."

"Alexander..." Alex looked around the room.

"What's wrong?" John asked.

"I keep hearing something," Alex replied. "Someone talking." He and John concentrated on trying to hear whatever it was.

After a minute, John said, "I don't-"

"Alex...John..."

"There it is!" The voice had gotten louder, clearer.

"I didn't hear anything," John mentioned. "Are you okay, Alex? You look exhausted."

"I'm sure you feel wonderful, too," Alexander said without thinking. When he saw John's crestfallen face, he mentally cringed. "Sorry," he muttered, "I just..."

"I know." John whispered. He reached over and wrapped his arms around Alex, sighing into his ear. "I miss them so much," John choked out. Alex nodded in agreement, feeling a few of John's tears fall onto him.

Meanwhile, he tried to desperately ignore his name being called again.

\/\/

Alexander woke up because he was cold. Too cold. Especially since he was under blankets in a heated room in late May.

"Alex..." Alex squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could, pulling the blankets up.

"No..." Alex groaned, not wanting to wake up.

"Alexander..."

"Five more minutes." The blankets were torn off of him. "What the hell Jo-"

The room was empty.

"Wha-ah!" Alex shielded his eyes from the sudden bright light that filled the room. After a moment, the light dimmed and became focused in one area of the room, at the end of Alexander's bed. He moved his arm down, and almost screamed.

Almost. He must have gone into shock again.

Because at the foot of his bed stood Hercules and Lafayette, staring at him with cold, blank eyes.

"Hello, Alexander..." Lafayette said softly, his voice echoing slightly. Alex saw him and Hercules smile crookedly before the world went dark.

\/\/

When he woke up again, they were still there. Still staring at him. Alex scrambled out of bed, backing himself against the wall.

"What the fuck...?" Alexander muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. He watched wide-eyed as the glowing Lafayette sat on his bed, and the foggy Hercules picked up a pillow. Even they looked confused, like they were testing the waters of their own existences. "I'm dreaming, right? I better be dreaming..."

"Trust us," Hercules said, "we don't get it either."

"Are...are you..."

"I...believe so..." Lafayette replied.

"Oh...oh my God...I'm gonna throw up..."

"Deep breaths, Alexander. Calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down." Alex demanded, shaking. "You...you're...you aren't..."

"We know," Hercules said sadly. "We're...we're dead."

"Don't say it, please."

"Alex..." Lafayette stood, taking a gliding step towards the living being in the room.

"Please," Alexander begged. He was hyperventilating, shaking, scared out of his mind. "You two are dead. We all went to your funeral. I saw your graves. It's been weeks, and we've all felt horrible...and then you come back to haunt us so we can't get over it?!" He covered his face with his hands. "Or maybe I'm just going insane...I think that would be better, honestly."

"Would you rather we weren't here?" Lafayette wondered.

"Not like this!"

"It's not like we have a choice," Hercules stated.

"I get that." Alex shook his head. "You are so lucky I already have dreams like this, otherwise I would be screaming. What...What are the others going to say?" Herc and Laf glanced at each other.

"They cannot see us," Lafayette said.

"We tried to talk to John, but he didn't hear us," Hercules added. "And we can't leave for some reason, so we can't see the sisters-"

"Are they alright? Did they...do they miss us?" Alexander blinked.

"Of course they do. We all do. Which is why it sucks that you're here." Alex surprised himself with his ability to console dead people. "I feel like I'm being teased, like-like you're dangling on a string in front of me. And if they can't see you, then I hate that I can."

"We are so sorry, Alexander. We didn't want to-"

"Don't."

"We didn't want to go."

"That doesn't help."

"We miss you, too."

"Shut up." Alex's vision blurred with tears.

"We love you, Alex."

"Shut up!"

"Alex?" Alexander whipped around at John's voice, thankful to see someone tangible. He hugged John tightly, trying to calm down. "Woah, Alex, what's wrong? You were yelling." Alex looked around, seeing that the room was devoid of any dead friends.

"I saw...I thought I saw them..." A sob escaped his throat before he knew it was coming.

"What?"

"I...they were there. They talked to me...they...they..."

"Alex." John gently took hold of Alexander's face, forcing their eyes to meet. "Who are you talking about?" Alex hesitated.

"...Laf and Herc..." Alex muttered. John's breath hitched.

"Alex..." John sighed. "You know they're-"

"I know. But, I swear-"

"Alex-"

"John, I-"

"Alex." John closed his eyes and took in an unsteady breath. "I know you miss them. I do, too. But...they aren't there, okay? You're just imagining things because you're sad, alright?" He pulled Alex closer to his chest. "They aren't there anymore." Alex choked on a cry. "Come on. Let's get you back to bed."

"No," Alexander whispered, afraid that he had been dreaming, and not wanting to go back to that. John sighed again.

"Come here." John tugged Alex across the hall to his room, and held him close for the rest of the night.