SERIES: Living With Your Ghost
PART: 1 of 5
RATING: PG-13 (Adult thematic material, language, character
death, angst)
PAIRING(s): Currently unsure of pairings, if any.
DISTRIBUTION: To LW, Kai, Myself and FG so far; any other
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CATEGORY: Drama/Supernatural
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SETTING IN TIMELINE: Alternate canon - set around season
four.
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Laverne is haunted by an apparition.
NOTES: Lyrics by Everclear.
****
“I am still living with your ghost…lonely and dreaming of
the west coast…I don’t wanna be your downtime…don’t wanna be your stupid game…we can live beside the
ocean…leave them all behind…swim out past the breakers…watch the world die”
-Everclear,
***
"Laverne?
Laverne? Wake up...you have to
wake up..."
A white haze obscured Laverne's vision. Squalling, she tried to push it away, to find
the blinding source of white.
"No! No!"
Somehow, Laverne managed to kick the restricting material aside. Hovering over her bed, wearing a pinched
expression, was her endlessly patient best friend. "Shirl..."
"She's awake.
Thank God, she's awake!"
Her head reeled and she rested against the bed. "What happened?"
"Don't you remember?
You were driving..."
She remembered the
car - it being late. Having
consumed too much alcohol. Ted Shotz's party...
"....Lenny was behind the wheel..."
...Her head
pounding. Lenny trying to get her to
pull over...
"You hit the tree head on."
She remembered
that. The pain...
"You've been unconscious for a week, Laverne."
"No - it ain't been that long..."
"It has. I've
been here every day - Squiggy and Carmine, too. Your Father's outside asleep - he's been
waiting for you to wake up." She let out a sob. "I've been praying so hard for
you..."
LENNY
"What happened to Lenny?"
Shirley's eyes became misty.
"SHIRL. Where. Is. Lenny?"
She smiled. "In
heaven, I hope."
***
"You comfy there, Muffin?"
Laverne scowled up at her father. "I want more orange juice."
"Now you're soundin' like a
DeFazio!"
Laverne pouted as her father took the empty glass and
bustled into the kitchenette. No matter
how many fluffy pillows and cool drinks they gave her, she couldn't forget that
somewhere out in the bright May morning, Lenny Kosnowski
was being interred.
She had begged Shirley to let her go, but her doctor insisted
that her concussion remained fresh.
Shirley had taken a shell-shocked Squiggy in
their Cadillac to the cemetery, leaving Frank to take care of Laverne.
It was an odd mercy that nothing else in her body had
shattered - not one single broken bone.
It was Lenny who has suffered gruesomely. They told her that, from the positioning of
his body, he had been trying to hold her back from the windshield with his
arms.
He had always suffered for her - his body was the final
sacrifice.
She masked her emotions for Frank, who smiled as she downed
the rest of the juice. She gave him a
half smile.
"Pop, I wanna get some rest,
okay?"
He took the glass from her.
"You sure?"
"Yeah - the doctor said it's
okay for me to sleep now."
"Great - you do that, I'll go take out the trash."
Laverne watched her father's exit, then lay, alone and
wide-eyed, on the couch. Once
twenty-five minutes ticked away, Laverne guessed it would be a good time for a
sleeping pill. She reached behind her,
finding them on the side table - her doctor had prescribed them as a treatment
for he post-accident insomnia. She
popped one between her lips, swallowing it down without a gulp of water. She closed her eyes, but sleep wouldn't come.
Yet a voice did.
"Hello, Laverne."
Her eyes flew open, revealing that the voice was attached to
a too familiar body. She scrambled toward
the other end of the couch, frantic in her shock.
"Lenny!"