The trees on Benton Street stir in the frigid, late-night wind, leafy fingers waving at the cluster of ghosts and ghost hunters huddled together on the sidewalk.

Aiden holds the cards down on the concrete so that they don’t blow away. I imagine someone stepping out of their house tomorrow to grab the newspaper or head out to work, discovering one in their driveway. Someone in a suit bending down to pull a little slip of paper off of their tire, flipping it over and finding the words IT’S COMPLICATED written out in block letters. Like the universe has sent a message, but left it far too vague to be helpful.

And if that person were to peel off the first layer of words, they’d be met with a historical fact that Kasey once had to memorize. What did it say on the back of that flashcard, again?

1633 - The Catholic church convicts Galileo of heresy for his support of heliocentrism (astronomical model in which the Earth and planets revolve around the Sun.)

I could honestly laugh. It’s complicated, indeed.

It feels very appropriate that the flashcard is about heresy. Here we are, seated around a ouija board of our own making, about to use one spirit to contact another, like the congregation of some Pagan night-church.

Communication across realms. That’s what we’re doing, right now. It’s good that my mom doesn’t know everything I get up to.

Heliocentrism feels appropriate, too. I could spend my life dancing happy circles around the warm, steady sun that I’ve caught for myself. He smiles at me from across the cards, blue eyes bright with excitement, ready to break yet another boundary in the history of ghost hunting. One chestnut strand escaping from his snapback, falling over his temple.

I’m struck with a sudden impulse to dive over the cards and kiss his face off, but the sooner we get this done, the sooner I can get back indoors and out of the cold, so. I stay put.

A low sound whispers along the street, so gradually that I pick it up before I’m even aware that I’m listening. Another wave of wind, approaching through the trees. A bite-sized version of that primeval, oceanic sound we heard in the old forest.

It washes over us, and Aiden hastily spreads his fingers out further to keep the cards from flying off.

“Let’s get going,” he says, and I realize that we’ve all lapsed into silence. This is a strange thing that we’re doing here, and I think it just hit all of us at once.

Kasey shakes her hair out of her face and nods.

“Will… we’re hoping that we’ll be able to summon you soon, but we can’t do that in the middle of Benton Street. We have to bring you to the Ghost Office, so my first question is this: if we try to take you somewhere in a car, or some other kind of vehicle, would that work?”

That’s my cue. I touch a finger to the first card - YES. I don’t know how long to wait, but after a moment I move to the next one - NO - and Kasey blinks.

“Okay. He said no. We can’t take him anywhere in a car.” She thinks it over. “So - could I walk you there?”

This time I only have to touch one card. The answer is an immediate yes.

“Alright,” Aiden murmurs. “Sounds like when the time comes, that’ll be step one.”

My breath catches. When the time comes. It’s suddenly dawning on me how close we are. We’re actually making a plan for the day of! It feels like yesterday that all we had on Will was his name, occupation, and a forged report of his death. But now… we’re almost there.

There’s another silence. All of us are clearly having a moment, and I decide to bring us back to the present.

“Next question!” I announce. “Are you hot, Will? Kasey wants to know. Please answer immediately.” I start pointing at the cards one by one again.

“Jamie!” Kasey laughs. “Don’t waste the - oh, my god. He answered.”

We all look down at the card, Will’s response to my stupid question: I DON’T KNOW.

Everyone bursts into hushed laughter. Aiden swats at my arm, shaking his head.

“Obviously he doesn’t know, dumbass,” Kasey says, still giggling. “He’s been fucking incorporeal for two hundred years! Try to be sensitive, god.”

“Sorry, Will! I didn’t mean it.”

“Come on, boys, focus.” Kasey’s voice grows serious again. “Will. I told you what we’re trying to do with the map. The headstone chip worked, but not the graveyard dirt, which means that we need one more artifact from your life, or at least connected to you. So - is there one? You died a really long time ago, I’m lowkey shocked that we were able to find the stuff we have already.”

I press a finger to the first card - YES - and Kasey grins, flashing us a thumbs up.

“Oh, thank god,” Aiden groans, tipping his head back in relief. “If we came all this way only to get stuck on this, that would be - I can’t even think about it.”

“Do you know where the artifact is, Will?” Kasey asks.

YES.

“Is it something we can go get?”

IT’S COMPLICATED.

We all stare at each other after this answer.

“We need to be careful, now,” Kasey finally says. “We’ve already asked six questions. I usually only get three or four, so I’m guessing we only have between… six and eight. Tops.” She takes a moment, clearly doing some mental prioritizing. “Is the artifact in Ketterbridge?”

SORT OF.

“What?” I ask. “How can it sort of be in Ketterbridge? Is it… not in Ketterbridge, but somewhere closeby?”

YES.

“Oh, man.” Kasey’s shoulders sag with disappointment. “That means I can’t come with you guys to get it!”

“Two-man mission, then,” Aiden says, half to himself. “And apparently it’ll be complicated to get… Is it something small, Will? Something we can easily take with us back to the Ghost Office?”

I move my fingers over each of the cards, but nothing happens. Kasey repeats Aiden’s question, and I do it again, but nothing.

Kasey waits for another minute or so, then curses quietly.

“We lost him,” she says. “He’s gone.”

~~~~

“I hope it’s not something we have to steal from the Forest Industries Council. We’ve already gotten busted sneaking around there once, I think that Gabby will probably kill us if it happens again.”

“I could ask Devin for help,” I mumble against Aiden’s chest. He lets out a soft laugh through his nose, twining his fingers through my hair.

“The security guard you made friends with?”

“Mhm. He’s emailed me a few times. Just links to ghost hunter forums he thinks I’d like.”

“Seriously? Have you responded?”

“No.” I hesitate. “Yes.”

Aiden laughs his drowsy laugh again, and even though my eyes are closed, I can tell that he’s shaking his head.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I haven’t told him anything about our hunt, we’ve just been comparing some notes-”

“Oh my god, Jamie.”

“Well - he emailed me first, and I didn’t want to be rude!”

Aiden’s low chuckle vibrates pleasantly against my cheek. We’re cuddled up close, but I want to be closer. I squeeze him as tightly as I can, expecting him to make a noise of protest or wiggle away, but he doesn’t.

“Does that not hurt?” I ask.

“Does what not hurt?”

“Seriously? I’m squeezing as hard as I can right now.”

“Are you? That’s cute.”

“Idiot,” I grumble, and feel him smile against the top of my head.

We lapse into sleepy silence for a moment. The sky outside is slowly turning lavender, and we’ve been back from Benton Street for a while, now. I don’t know exactly how long. It’s hard to keep track of time this late at night - or this early in the morning, technically. Nothing is stopping us from getting up off the couch and climbing into my bed. Finally going to sleep after a full night of ghost interrogation, and the lengthy ensuing debate about what this last artifact might be.

But neither of us move to go.

Personally, I'm cozy and relaxed sitting with Aiden like this, and I like how his voice sounds when he’s this tired, and I also like that he doesn’t object when I let my fingers travel all over him. Not in a sexy way, we’re both too exhausted for that, but - I don’t know. I just like the way the planes and lines of his body feel under my fingertips.

I’m not sure why Aiden hasn’t suggested bed, yet. I guess he has his own reasons.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask.

“I’m not really thinking. Just - listening.”

“Listening to what?”

“You.”

I open my eyes just in time to see a little smile flicker over his face. His eyes are closed, dark lashes curling on his cheeks.

“I’m barely even saying anything.”

“Not what I mean,” he yawns, adjusting his arms to hold me better. “I’m just - listening.”

“Oh.” I lean my cheek against his bicep, taking in the delicious warmth of his skin, the beat of his pulse in my ear. Staring up at him unabashedly.

He opens his eyes, looks down at me. “What about you?”

“You're just listening, I'm just looking.”

He laughs, presses a kiss against my forehead. I close my eyes and savor it.

“I did not expect you to have a face like this, not after I picked you up from the airport. In my defense, I could barely see an inch of it, with the hair-hat-beard-sunglasses combo you had going.” I trace my fingers along his collarbone. “Why’d you show up looking like that if you knew I was coming to get you, you goon?”

“I didn’t know that you were coming to get me, remember? My aunt only told me about that when I was deboarding in Ketterbridge. I wasn’t prepared at all. And I jumped the first plane I could get, my itinerary was a disaster. My beard got all crazy after that much traveling, and-”

“Hold the fuck up.” I pull back and stare at him. “You’re telling me you grew that fucking Old Testament beard over the course of like, a plane journey?”

“Well, no, the beard just sort of happened while I was focused on getting sober, but normally it looked a bit better than that. I like to think.” He takes in the indignant look on my face. “What? It comes in fast. Why do you think I always have the scruff?”

“I don’t know. Cause it’s sexy, and I love it?”

Aiden chuckles again as I curl back up against his side.

“That’s good to know. What about you? Is yours red, when it comes in? The stubble was, when we went camping.”

“Um, yeah, it is red, and I end up looking like the world’s least qualified lumberjack.”

Aiden laughs sleepily, then folds a hand around the back of my neck. I lean back to look up at him, but barely even catch a glimpse before his lips are teasing open mine. I drag my fingernails down that stubble, delighting in the sharp little scratches. I love the way it feels against my face, my neck, my hands. Can’t wait to see how it feels on some other places, too.

Aiden kisses me until I’m so stupid happy that I could float right off the couch, just like everything in my apartment does when he’s stupid happy.

I swear I could fly, with these wings he gives me.

~~~~

For once, I wake up before Aiden. I find us snuggled up together on the couch. We must have passed out like this.

I lay there for a long time, listening to the steady rhythm of his sleeping heart rate. Eventually I detangle myself and head to the kitchen, stretching my arms over my head. He rolls onto his side when I move, burying his face into one of the cushions.

Based on the hushed quiet and the pale gold tint to the air, it must be early. I can’t believe I’m awake right now. We were up so late last night.

Now that I know Aiden likes a cup in the morning, I’ve started keeping tea bags at my apartment, one box of his favorite, and one box of mine. Yawning deeply, I fix us each a mug and move back to the couch, where I set Aiden's down on the coffee table.

I drop into the armchair and start going through my notifications, sipping on my tea. My mom texted me a photo of today’s quote from her Bible verse calendar (an almost regular occurrence, which means that I basically have this calendar, too), and Angie sent me a link to a petition about animal testing. I respond to both, sign the petition, and text Raj to see how Noah is doing.

A soft sound catches my attention. I blink and look over at Aiden, then drop my phone onto the armchair and sit up.

He’s no longer lazily sprawled out on the couch. He’s all curled up, like he’s trying to protect himself, or hide, or - I don’t know. His face is tense, his breathing unusually short and strained. I set my mug on the coffee table and move over to him. Drop quietly to my knees next to the couch and smooth a hand over his cheek.

“Aiden?”

He mumbles something in his sleep, all the syllables running together. It takes me a minute to figure out what he's saying.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”

“Sorry for-?”

“Too late,” he breathes. “Didn’t mean - I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

I don’t know what this is, but it’s making my heart hurt.

“Aiden.” I give his arm a shake. “Aiden.”

He jolts upright, gasping, sending me falling back onto my heels. He stares around wildly, panting like he’s been running for hours, his blue eyes wide and panicked. I rock back up onto my knees and reach for him. His gaze narrows in on me.

“Jamie?” Aiden takes my face in his hands. His fingers are trembling.

“I’m right here! You were only having a nightmare, everything is okay!” He stares at me, his eyes frightened and frantic. “What do you need? What can I-?”

“Just - just let me listen to you.”

I think he means the kind of listening he was doing last night, so I don’t say anything. Instead, I lean up closer to him, and he rests his forehead against mine, closing his eyes.

Slowly, his breathing begins to even out. His fingers stop shaking, and I haltingly lift my hands to rest on his, where they’re still pressed to my face. I trace my thumbs over his knuckles in repeated, slow movements, putting in a little pressure.

“Just a bad dream,” I say again, after some time has passed.

Aiden lets out an unsteady breath. “I know. I'm sorry if I scared you."

"Don't be sorry."

"Thanks for waking me up before the bad part.”

“You’ve had this dream before?”

“I - dream of all of them.” He swallows hard. “The ones I couldn’t - or - didn’t-”

He cuts off as I climb up onto his lap. Even right now, with this going on, his arms fold around me automatically. Making sure that I don’t fall. I put my hand on his chest and let the barriers down. Aiden understands what I’m trying to do right away.

“Are you sure?” he asks, white-blue fire gathering in his eyes. “Right now?”

“Yes.”

A slow-moving wave of warmth melts through my palm: our connection opening. His heartbeat is still running wild, but I hear it slow down a little, listening for mine.

I sit there until our hearts are walking calmly together again. When I take my hand away, Aiden lets out a long sigh and drops his forehead onto my shoulder, hugging me closer.

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

“What do you normally do when this happens?”

He doesn’t look up, only shrugs. “Ride it out.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I reach over and take the mug from the coffee table, only to discover that it’s gone cold. How long have we been sitting like this?

“Can I interest you in what I’m sure would have been a good cup of tea?”

“No,” Aiden murmurs. “Just - stay here with me. Please.”

“Okay.” Always. Forever.

It's the strangest thing, the way those two words keep popping into my head recently.