Chapter Text
Margo pulled her stool over to the silver table that housed her newest job. A young man, far too young to be laying here, though not the youngest Margo had worked on. At least this one was a proper adult, unlike last week’s poor dear. That family had been difficult to deal with and, as much as Margo was used to the job at this point, the young ones always tugged so hard at her heart.
Margo located her scissors, tugging the young man’s collar down so she wouldn’t nick the skin as she sliced through his dark shirt. Only…something was wrong. She didn’t consciously know what that something was—she had completed all tasks as normal and the only thing strange was the early hour she had come in to begin work—but something about the moment set off warning bells in her head.
Opening her scissors before they could damage the bloody garment further, Margo settled the tool back on her tray and pressed two of her now-free gloved fingers just below the boy’s jaw.
A faint thrum met her check and, before Margo could even register what that meant for the apparently not-corpse on her table, the young man was gasping in panicked breaths and scrambling away from her in stilted, jerky bursts. Margo secured a hand on his shoulder before he could topple off the other side of the table, but from there she was at a loss.
This sort of thing had happened before, she knew. Never to her, but there were instances of mistakes leading to living bodies ending up on the embalming table. That was why death was always confirmed before Margo even thought of touching her chemicals. Only, she had. He had been unresponsive and pulseless, and rigor mortis had already begun taking its toll. His eyes had been cloudy and his skin pallid and cold. Not to mention the large gash across his carotid artery beneath the blood coating his neck that Margo had yet to have the chance to clean off. Without a doubt in Margo’s mind, he had been dead.
She needed to call the police and get this young man to a hospital. At least, that was what Margo would have assumed. Frankly, he didn’t even seem all that unwell aside from the fear. If not for the old blood and their current location, Margo could almost imagine he had woken from a bad dream instead of assumed death.
Margo slowly relinquished the young man’s shoulder, pulling off a glove and reaching blindly at the table behind her for her phone, eyes never leaving the other.
“I’m calling the police,” she finally managed to force out as she unlocked her phone, and the young man’s eyes immediately fixed sharply on her. “I…I’m going to get you help. You’re going to be alright.”
The young man moved his lips, but no sound came out, this realization making his breaths come even more quickly. Margo should probably work on calming him further before he got any closer to hyperventilation. Instead, he shook his head, hand reaching instinctually towards Margo before he seemed to realize it.
“C-call…” the young man croaked, turning his hand as if asking for something when he couldn’t seem to force any more words out.
Margo handed him the phone, for what else could he be asking for? Should she be calling the police? Probably. Did this man seem to know how to react more firmly than she did right now? Also probably. If he were actively injured, Margo wouldn’t even consider not following through right away, but no new blood had started seeping from his neck wound and he didn’t seem otherwise harmed, so Margo figured if he was coherent enough to understand what was happening, she might as well allow him any measure of calm she could.
The young man accepted the phone gratefully, fingers closing clumsily around it as he poked at the numbers on the screen. His hands were shaky and it took a few tries, but he eventually managed to dial a number and put the call on speaker.
After three rings, the officer whom Margo had worked with answered the phone with his name and a tired yet polite inquiry as to who was calling. The young man on the table stared at Margo imploringly, and she took that as an invitation to explain the situation to the best of her ability. Officer Reves accepted the information gracefully, agreeing to be at the mortuary in fifteen minutes and that, so long as Virgil felt fine, they could put off interaction with any other emergency services lest they complicate things or overwhelm him.
After the call ended, Margo helped lead Virgil—it felt strange calling him by his name, she typically didn’t like doing that, but the young man wasn’t much of a corpse anymore so Margo guessed it was fine—out of the sterile space and upstairs. She fetched him some water and sat him down before, after acquiring permission, beginning to massage some of the stiffness from his muscles and joints. Soon enough, there was a knock on the door and Margo left Virgil’s side to usher Officer Reves indoors.
“You died,” the officer forewent a greeting.
Virgil coughed out a surprised laugh.
“I…did.”
His voice was rough and weak, and while they were waiting Virgil had expressed that it hurt to speak.
“You’re not very dead right now, kid. Not that I’m not happy for you, but honestly? What is going on, where is the rest of your family, and what sort of phone call should I be expecting next?”
Margo took Virgil’s hand, offering him his cup of water back to give him time to process the questions. While Officer Reves was thorough and efficient, Margo herself would have taken a gentler approach to interrogating someone who had been legally dead less than a half hour ago.
“Fire department, maybe,” Virgil finally answered. “It’s all…fuzzy, but I know that it was hot and there was fire, and…it’s gone, I think.”
“The house?”
Virgil nodded.
“Gone?”
“That was the goal. Of…of the ghosts, obviously. Not my brothers. ‘Cause that would be stupid and reckless and illegal.”
Officer Reves chuckled.
“Freak accident, yeah? I won’t fight that, and so long as nobody’s hurt, I don’t think anyone else will, either. Of course, they probably shouldn’t be on the property if anyone is called in. Do they know?”
“That I’m alive?” Virgil shook his head.
“Do you want me to get them over here, kid?”
“Please.”
“Want to get cleaned up while I give ‘em a call?”
Virgil’s hand strayed toward his neck. He nodded, and Margo helped him to his feet and towards a sink. To Margo’s great surprise, underneath the layer of dried blood down his pale skin there wasn’t even a scar. She didn’t know how she thought the wound had healed so quickly, but, after a few rinses, it looked like it hadn’t even been there to begin with. Margo was very quickly realizing that something was going on here that she would never understand. Virgil, too, looked surprised at the unmarred skin, but he seemed far more relieved to be alive than curious about what had led to the state.
“One of your brothers dropped off clothes and pictures for me to, well…would you like a change of clothes is what I’m trying to ask?”
Virgil looked down to his muddied, bloodied current attire. His agreement prompted Margo to fetch the clothing Patton had dropped off the day before and leave them with Virgil in the bathroom.
Before he emerged again, there was a pounding at the front door. Margo ushered the four men at the door inside. She recognized two of the four. One was Virgil’s brother, Patton, and one had accompanied Patton when he had dropped Virgil’s items by. Roman, Margo thought it was. The third figure looked startlingly similar to Roman, and, by process of elimination, Margo guessed that the fourth newcomer was Virgil’s other brother, Logan.
“What is going on?” the man guessed to be Logan demanded, voice wavering somewhere between angry and exhausted.
“You smell like gasoline and smoke,” Officer Reves noted.
“I don’t see what that has to do with my brother’s body, officer. Why did you call us here? Has something happened?”
“I think that’s a question you’re going to have to answer for me. Right now, though, I…don’t really know how to go about saying this because frankly, it isn’t possible, but-”
“What is going on, officer?” Logan repeated, voice low and eyes fixed towards the hallway where a door had just opened.
“He’s alive.”
Virgil breeched the hallway, then, tugging uncomfortably at the dark violet sleeves of his button-up as he came into view.
“...hey,” he said sheepishly when he noted the others in the room.
“Virgil,” Logan breathed, and Patton came forward to grab Logan’s hand tightly.
“You’re shaking,” the one Margo didn’t know the name of remarked.
“It’s freezing,” Virgil huffed, eyes darting between the speaker and his brothers; he didn’t seem to know if he should approach or not.
The unnamed young man slid off his jacket before closing the distance between them and draping it over Virgil’s shoulders. The garment was a bit too big, but Virgil didn’t seem to mind, burying his hands in the fabric.
“You’re going to be even more insufferable about the temperature now, aren’t you?”
Remus pressed a hand to Virgil’s forehead, frowning.
“Remus?” Logan asked warily.
“I mean, I don’t know what you want me to tell you. He’s a fucking ice cube, but that’s nothing new. I don’t think I need to run through all the possibilities of what’s going on here and, frankly, I don’t think I could, but…Vee, are you being possessed?”
“I don’t think so? Unless I’m possessing myself, I guess, but I don’t think that’s how that works.”
“I mean, you’ve got a pulse, you’ve got some body heat, you’re breathing and talking and walking. I’m not a doctor, but that generally means somebody’s alive. I think. As for how: fuck if I know. This is new territory. You should be long gone.”
“I mean, the house was changing, going back and forth through time,” Virgil said. “At least for me anyway. The light and the deterioration was, I don’t know…”
“So you think we got lucky? We lit the ma-”
Virgil pressed a hand to Remus’ mouth, cutting him off.
“I want you to think very carefully about what you’re about to say and who is here to hear it,” Virgil hissed, eyes flicking significantly to Officer Reves.
Remus grabbed Virgil’s wrist in one hand, tilting Virgil’s head back with his other one and running a finger across his intact neck gingerly.
“...watched the place go down,” Remus corrected. “At exactly the right time for this to just, what? Not have happened? It shouldn’t be able to do anything past the property.”
“Okay, but I died on the property. If that didn’t happen on the property then it didn’t happen at all.”
“That’s impossible.”
“So are cursed houses, Remus. Your point? I don’t know if that’s actually what happened, either, but that’s the best I’ve got right now.”
Patton let go of Logan’s wrist and took a tentative step forward, but Logan laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“One moment,” he asked, pulling off his right glove and holding his bare hand out to Virgil. “I don’t know if this offers any sort of proof either way, but the living and the dead do feel differently to some extent, and while I know you are-”
Virgil grabbed onto his brother’s hand desperately, eyes immediately meeting his in question.
“Nothing. I don’t feel- oh!” Logan wrapped his arms around Virgil in reciprocation kof the sudden hug.
“Pat, c’mere,” Virgil requested, freeing one of his arms to pull Patton into the group hug.
They just stood there for a long moment, holding tightly to one another.
“Virge?” Patton asked softly once they pulled back. “Are you alright?”
Virgil threw himself back at Patton, burying his head in Patton’s shoulder.
“Oh, kiddo. It’s gonna be okay. It’s over, yeah? It’s alright,” he reassured, rubbing circles through the jacket still draped over his shoulders.
“Logan, Margo,” Officer Reves called while the others were busy. “I’ll need to speak with both of you about this to get all of the correct paperwork filed and this situation dealt with. Margo, I’m sorry for the complications and the early hour, but whenever you have a moment, could we set up a meeting?”
Margo agreed easily.
“And Logan, I’d imagine you’ve had a long night. Virgil explained briefly, but other than that, I’d rather not hear of this fire again. No one in this town is likely to press any charges and I’m willing to look the other way, but this can’t come up again.”
“Of course. Thank you.”
“We will need to have a conversation at some point, but right now you should focus on getting your brother home.”
Logan nodded, giving his thanks once again to the both of them before breaking off to usher everyone outside.
“I’m available now if you are,” Margo offered once the group had filed out the door. “Though I suppose I don’t even know if you’re on duty. I am sorry for calling what I assume was your personal number. I thought he wanted to call family.”
Reves waved off Margo’s concerns good-naturedly.
“He probably made my job easier, actually. For the time being, at least. My partners are about to be very cross with me, but that can’t much be helped now. If you’re up for a talk now, I guess I am already here so long as I’m not interrupting anything.”
“My plans for the morning just walked out the door. I can’t say I was expecting that one.”
“I’ve learned that you can’t question that family. Just let things happen and hope for the best. It makes my job hell, but we get everything worked out eventually. Now, where were we?”
Margo led the officer into her office, offering to put on a pot of coffee before settling down for a very long conversation.