Chapter 5

The next thing Chuck knew, he was lying on the sitting room sofa, with Sarah's and Ellie's concerned faces hovering over him. "Are you alright?" Sarah asked.

Chuck blinked, and put his hand to his temple. Feeling no pain, he nodded.

"What happened?" his wife asked.

Chuck smiled briefly. "The ghosts. I think I, uh, uploaded them. They're part of the Intersect now."

"And you knew that was going to happen?"

"Well, I couldn't be sure. But I figured."

"That was one hell of a risk to take," Sarah swatted him on the arm. "I married you, remember. Not some gangster reject."

"Or the 1940s female version of John Mayer? Yeah, I know. But I figured it was our best shot." He looked over at Ellie. "How are you?"

"Ok. I don't…remember much."

"Probably better that way. How about the others?"

"They're in the next room."

Chuck struggled to his feet, fending off the concerned objections of Sarah and Ellie, and headed over to the doorway. Devon, Morgan and Casey were all waiting on the other side, their faces were a mixture of exhaustion and embarrassment.

"Chuck, you should get back to…" The chiming of the grandfather clock interrupted Sarah's suggestion. After the seventh and final chime had finished, there was a rattling at the door. A moment later, Ryerson walked in.

"Well, it looks like a few of you are still here." He peered at the various people carefully. "And everyone is…themselves?"

"Everybody's fine," Sarah replied.

"And Penelope and the Doctor?"

Casey shook his head. "They didn't make it."

"I see. Well, Mr. Bartowski, Mrs. Woodcomb and Mr. Casey, it looks like the estate will be split amongst the three of you. Congratulations." Chuck thought he sensed a note of irony in the lawyer's voice.

"Any regrets?"

"None whatsoever," Chuck answered his wife as he took another sip of coffee. As soon as they'd reached a more civilized part of California, they'd stopped for breakfast at the first diner they could find. After a large plate of pancakes, the events of the night before seemed to fade away, if only slightly.

"Not even if Casey throws a housewarming?"

"As much as I'd like to see Casey in domestic mode, I'm going to have to say no."

After the lawyer had arrived, Chuck, Ellie and Casey had met privately to discuss their new inheritance. Since two of the three beneficiaries had no interest in the house, Casey had happily agreed to take over the deed. He had promised making a financial transaction to even out the split, but Chuck hardly cared. While Carmichael Industries could probably use the influx of capital, he wasn't sure he liked the idea of his uncle owning a stake in the company. Especially since he could probably come back from the grave just to attend the board meetings.

Not even Morgan had objected to the idea of abandoning the house, or its financial potential. Morgan had in fact remained unusually quiet the entire morning, partly due to the monster-sized breakfast of waffles, whipped cream, bacon, eggs, pancakes, sausage, hash browns, toast, and apple pie that he was currently scarfing down, and partly due to the fact that nobody wanted to talk to him anyway. He and Ellie had both been quite careful to avoid eye contact when they parted ways.

"I can't say I disagree," Sarah commented. "Not really a place to raise a family, was it?"

Chuck had to admit that he didn't see any kids fitting there, other than those that had died thirty years earlier. Thanks to the new updates to the Intersect, Chuck had learned that James Henry Scott had actually set fire to his house himself in an attempt to get rid of his own parents. He'd also learned that Santello hadn't actually been killed by Al Capone, but rather by an angry bookie. Alicia Le Fanu's death, however, had not surprisingly come at the hands of her jealous husband.

A beeping sound interrupted Chuck's thoughts. "I'm so glad these are working again," Sarah said, as she glanced at her phone. "It's Ellie. They've boarded the plane."

Despite what she'd said, Chuck suspected that Ellie and Devon both remembered some of what had happened to them. Ellie had been avoiding just about everyone that morning, and Devon had seemed unusually unenthusiastic about returning to Chicago, as if he remembered that was where his brain's recent roommate had met his grizzly demise.

"Well, we should probably get going if we want to get back to LA before too long." Chuck dropped some bills onto the table, while Morgan regretfully took a last bite of breakfast. As they headed back to the car, Chuck remembered that he needed to do one thing first. "Hold on," he said as he popped the trunk. "I'll be right back."

As Chuck retrieved the plastic bag from the trunk, he remembered the last conversation he'd had with Casey, after the big man had briefly ushered him away from the others.

"I need you to do something for me."

"Sure. You mean, in addition to giving you a house?"

"This is serious Bartowski. I need you to take this." Casey handed Chuck a plastic bag.

After peeking inside, "Isn't this Morgan's melted action figure?"

"Yes," Casey replied, not looking at the bag. "I need you to bury this, preferably in consecrated ground."

"Seriously?" Chuck looked at the ex-NSA Agent for a moment, then his eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute. The thing that scared you so badly that you froze up. That was this thing, wasn't it?"

"Of course not," Casey scoffed unconvincingly. "Why would I… oh, hell. You didn't see it. The way it looked at me, with those dead eyes. You weren't there, all right!"

"Sure, big guy. You can handle terrorists by the boat load, but a six-inch toy, that's what freaks you out." Chuck shrugged. "Sure, I'll do it."

And now, he was standing outside, looking for an appropriate place to bury the burned toy. It wasn't exactly consecrated ground, though the diner's food had been pretty good. Unfortunately, the surrounding land wasn't exactly dig-friendly.

Chuck looked at his watch. They really needed to get going. Seeing no easy place to bury the thing, he decided what Casey didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

He walked over to the dumpster, and slid open the doorway. As he reached over to dump the bag, he took a quick look at its contents.

He could have sworn the action figure was staring right at him.

But that was impossible. All of the ghosts were gone, or at least nothing more than a clutter of ones and zeroes in the Intersect. All he was holding was a bag of melted wax. He reached in the dumpster, and dropped the bag inside.

As he headed back to the car, Chuck thought he felt a cold chill on the back of his spine. A moment later, he shook his head. Probably just the wind.

I hope everyone enjoyed this story. It wasn't really a spoof or homage to any one thing, but had pieces of various old movies like "The House on Haunted Hill" (the original William Castle one) and "The Innocents", Chucky movies, and of course "Scooby-Doo."

I hope everyone enjoyed it. Please review if you can, and Happy Halloween!