SERIES: Living With Your Ghost

PART: 4 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 archives are welcome to ask, but disclaimers must be included, my email left intact. send a URL, and provide full disclaimers as well as credit me fully. Please inform me if you are going to submit my work to any sort of search engine.  Please do not submit my work to a search engine that picks out random sets of words and uses them as key words, such as "Google"

 

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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.

 

***

 

"You shouldn't be here, Laverne."  Shirley's strident voice cut through Laverne's last remaining nerve.  It was their last shift, and they were hours from their last break/

 

"I'm not going home.  I wanna be up and doing stuff."

 

Shirley frowned.  "I'm very worried about you.  Why did you throw that bottle?" 

 

"I didn't throw anything," Laverne insisted.  Shirley didn't believe her story, and Laverne didn't want to analyize it further by wondering who had thrown what.  She didn't want to consider the possibility of it being some sort of manifestation of Lenny's spirit.

 

"Laverne, you need help.  Maybe your head injury is causing you memory loss..."

 

"There's nothing wrong with my mind.  I didn't throw anything." Laverne turned back to the bottles and began to cap with manic impunity. 

 

Shirley sighed.  Even if Laverne didn't admit it, something was wrong - in her mind or in her body.  Laverne, obliviously, capped away.  The bottles whirled by, one after the other, all unnoticed.  Suddenly, through the glass, she saw a face - a familiar, eeriliy familiar, face...

 

She shrieked.  Another glass landed on the floor.  Her supervisor pulled her off the line.

 

"You're going home, DeFazio."

 

 

***

 

Home was the last place Laverne wanted to be.  Somehow, someway, she could feel Lenny's presence at Knapp Street - more strongly than at work.  He had made it clear to her that he didn't want her to go out on a date - he didn't want her to somehow forget him.  She feared what his reaction might be.

 

"Why're you doing this to me?"  She asked the empty apartment.  "You don't got the right!  You were never my boyfriend - you had no claim on me!"  But there could be no answer from a dead man.  She sat down on the couch and numbed her mind with the game shows and soap operas.

 

Shirley returned with a pizza, which Laverne picked at but didn't really eat.  Eventually, she excused herself to an early bed, where her body refused to grant her sleep.  She gave up and headed to the living room, watching TV until Shirley excused herself to bed.  It was eleven PM.  Laverne was exhausted but restless.

 

One more pill, she thought.  Maybe I'll sleep tonight.

 

But she took two.

 

 

***

 

She opened her eyes in a park, green leaves in the trees and grass on the ground.  She walked through it, to a hill, up to a tree.

 

"You wanna see someone else."

 

He sat on a branch near the top, staring out into the middle-distance.  She climbed up beside him.  "I gotta get on with my life, Len.  Besides, we were never together."

 

He laughed bitterly.  "That's 'cause you never gave me a chance!"

 

"Len..."

 

"You really need to wake up, Laverne."

 

"No!  I don't want to.  The only time I'm ever happy is when I'm here with you!"

 

"Too little too late."

 

"Too late?"

 

****

 

"It's late!  It's eleven, Laverne - you've missed two doses!"

 

Laverne moaned.  She had fallen asleep on the sofa.  Her sweater had left red crinkles in her cheek, which she automatically tried to work out. "It was so real this time!"  The pleasure-pain of her situation had begun to overwhelm her mind.  Laverne clutched Shirley's shoulders.  "We gotta do something."

 

"I can get you a therapist!"

 

"Shirl, this ain't about me being crazy!  Eddie saw that bottle get thrown, he's just to scared to say what it means."

 

"I don't know what you're trying to say!"

 

"It's Lenny!  Lenny's haunting me!  He's mad 'cause I killed him!"

 

"Laverne, you didn't hill him!  That's crazy!"

 

"I'm not crazy!  No one here is crazy!"

 

"Hello!" Shirley groaned as the front door slammed open.  "What's with the water works?"

 

Laverne pouted, dashing away her tears.  "Nothin'.  It's stupid."

 

"Laverne's having nightmares about your roommate," Shirley revealed.

 

"You mean you're seein' Lenny and that crumb ain't come to see me?"

 

Laverne passionately shouted, "I wish he wouldn't - it's worse this way!  He never goes away!  Whenever he comes, I just wish I could stay with him!"

 

"Laverne!"

 

"Hey, Len wouldn't want you to be upset no more," Squiggy sighed.  "I know someone who can help."

 

"Squiggy, this is no time for..." Shirley began.

 

"Woman!  I know a lady who gets rid of ghosts." He fished a number out of his pocket.  "I met her at the Rotary Club."

 

"What was she doing there?" Laverne asked.

 

"She was dancin' for fives."

 

"Squiggy," Shirley warned.

 

"I'll call in the favor, if you ask me to."

 

Shirley and Laverne shared a glance.  "All right." They agreed.  Anything was better than suffering this way...