It wasn’t long before Jon was considering the benefits of an exorcism. Theon had become their unofficial third flatmate and got along with Robb very well, often joking together. The discovery that he could touch nonhumans thrilled him and he could often be found slinging an arm around Robb or poking Jon’s face. Jon was convinced he was plotting to kill him. “He’s infuriating,” he groaned. Ygritte raised an eyebrow at him, gingerly sipping at her thermos. “But Robb likes him. I can’t figure out why on earth, but he does.” He glanced at her. “Have you met ghosts?” “Not many,” she shrugged comfortably. Ygritte was older than him and, according to her, smarter and prettier. “But the ones I’ve met aren’t happy little souls, Snow.” “Don’t call me that.” She smiled fleetingly. “There’s a reason he’s here,” Ygritte promised him. “Mark my words, he doesn’t stick to this grimy world without a cause.” She took another sip. “And if he don’t know it, all the worse for you.” “What do you mean?” “You’ll see,” Ygritte smiled, and he could see blood in her teeth. -- The walls were shaking when he got home, most likely due to Theon. Apparently ghosts could influence their surroundings and Theon had managed to physically touch the table before. Well, he’d kicked it over and spilled all the coffee. “Hullo?” Jon called, shrugging off his jacket. He was tired and thirsty, and not in the mood for Theon’s jokes. “Robb, you home?” Apparently not. Jon sighed and started up the stairs toward his room, only to stop midway. Theon was at the landing, curled into himself in the corner with his back melted into the wall. Jon would have ignored him except he was whispering, so low Jon could barely make out the frantic words. “I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I’m yours, please don’t, thank you, thank you…” “Theon?” Jon said hesitantly. Theon looked up at him, eyes wide and glazed. “I’ll be good,” he said, quivering, and suddenly vanished. -- Robb was frantic when Jon told him, and became increasingly more worried when Theon didn’t reappear. “It’s been five hours!” he ranted, hands shaking. “Where did he even go?” “Limbo?” Jon suggested. He’d thought of calling Ygritte but deigned to wait a little longer, just in case Theon was pulling something. It didn’t feel like he was. “Calm down, at least we know ghosts can’t be hurt.” “We do?” Robb stared, and Jon cursed - they actually didn’t. His silence panicked Robb more, and Robb shouted, “THEON!” “Yes?” Theon drawled. They both jumped and he grinned from the chair he was sitting in. Robb swore loudly. “Where the fuck have you been?” he snapped; he sounded like his mother. “We were freaking out, what the fuck!” “Where have I been?” Theon frowned. “What are you talking about?” “You disappeared a bit after I came home,” Jon reminded. Theon blinked. “When did you get home?” he asked, and Jon exchanged glances with Robb. Theon scowled. “If you two are going to be weirdos, I’m going to go haunt my sister.” He puffed away and Jon put a hand to his face. Robb was saying something but he didn’t hear it, remembering Ygritte’s words to him. He doesn’t stick to this grimy world without a cause. “What’s going on?” Robb asked plaintively. He looked at Robb grimly. “Guess we’ll have to find out.”
Theon didn’t seem to have any idea why he remained on earth or even the flat. Robb had talked to his father and Jon to Ygritte, but it seemed only Theon could find out what was keeping him here. Robb was more concerned about Theon’s actions the other day. “I talked to Jeyne,” he told Jon quietly. Jeyne was a pretty hospital intern, a human who dabbled in psychology. “She said it sounds like he went through some kind of trauma.” “He’s dead,” Jon pointed out. “I expect that’s traumatic.” “He seems okay with it,” Robb retorted. His handsome face was marred with a frown. “I’m worried, Jon. What you were talking about doesn’t sound good.” “He’s dead,” Jon repeated. “What could be good?” "You're dead," Robb snapped, and Jon didn't reply. -- When Jon came home he was surprised by a man staring longingly at their front door. The man was tall and pale, with long hair and a wistful expression Jon couldn’t quite define. He stared so hopefully that Jon felt almost guilty when he spoke. “Can I help you?” The man turned, startled. “Sorry,” he apologized with a grin. His smile showed all his teeth. “I'm Ramsay, I...I didn’t mean to creep you out, it’s just…I used to live here.” He looked back at the door sadly and Jon felt an uncomfortable need to comfort the man. “I’m Jon, I live here at the moment.” He paused. “Do you want to come in?” he offered. Ramsay’s eyes lit up. “You sure?” Ramsay asked. No, not really, but Jon unlocked the door and gestured for him to go in. Ramsay entered with a wide smile that showed all his teeth as he took in the flat. His pale eyes fixed onto the staircase. “I moved out two years ago,” Ramsay said. Jon hadn’t asked. “But we lived here six months before that, me and Theon.” Theon. “Theon?” Jon asked casually. He glanced around the room to see if Theon was here, but the ghost was curiously absent. “Boyfriend,” Ramsay said. His hands flexed as he approached the staircase, tentatively touching the railing. “He died.” “I’m sorry.” “I miss him,” Ramsay confessed, trailing his hand on the rail. “There were good times.” He smiled and for a second Jon thought he glimpsed something darker, something like Thorne had when he tormented new recruits. “Great times,” Ramsay amended, and Jon wondered where Theon had gone. -- “Where’d you go this afternoon?” Jon asked at dinner. Robb insisted they sit with him even though the other two couldn’t eat. “Your boyfriend showed up.” “He did?” Robb said, and Theon looked just as alarmed. “Ramsay was here?” Theon seemed elated but also almost afraid, upset. “I…I thought I heard his voice.” “And then…?” “I just sort of winked out,” he confessed, looking confused. “I don’t know why, I wanted to see him.” “You have interesting taste,” Jon mused. Ramsay was nothing like what Jon would have expected. Truth be told, he would have imagined Theon’s boyfriend to be more like Robb (which was uncomfortable because Robb and Theon was not a combination he enjoyed). Theon stuck his tongue out and Robb laughed at the reprieve. But soon Theon frowned. “Why didn’t I get to see him?” he asked. Jon wondered the same.
After a long bout of interrogation Robb invited Ramsay over again, eager to learn of his life and hoping Theon could get a glimpse of him. The human accepted readily, to Jon's surprise; he'd expected it would be too traumatizing to come back again. "It's all so different," Ramsay sighed. His eyes fixed once again on the staircase. "But still the same." “Ramsay,” Theon gasped from the kitchen. A wall shook and Jon glanced over at the human, who hadn’t noticed. “He’s here.” “He can’t see you,” Jon reminded in a whisper, but the ghost paid him no mind. “Look at me,” Theon pleaded. Something about his voice was sick and needy as he stared longingly at the living man. “Look at me.” One of the pipes blew out, water spraying from the kitchen sink. “Shit!” Robb yelled, running to it. Jon gave a pointed look at Theon, who was groaning sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. Ramsay just laughed. “Never did that when we lived here,” he cracked. Theon smiled, eyes fluttering with memory. Jon frowned. -- He was woken that night by the bed shaking. No, not the bed, the entire floor was groaning ominously. When he got up to investigate he found Robb in his pajamas. “Robb?” he croaked. Robb pointed to the figure huddled in corner of the landing, eyes wide. Jon approached Theon carefully, crouching down to meet his eyes. “…be good, I’ll be good, please don’t I was good, no, no, I’m sorry…” “Theon?” Jon said quietly. Theon looked at him. “I was good,” he repeated. Jon nodded. “You were good,” he agreed, glancing at Robb. Robb looked sick. Theon grabbed at his arm, his grip surprisingly strong for someone incorporeal. “Tell him I was good, tell him…” “Tell who?” Jon asked carefully. “I was good,” Theon insisted, and he was gone. -- “Who do you think ‘he’ is?” Robb asked over coffee. They were outside Robb’s work at the animal shelter, using up his lunch break. “I don’t know," Jon sighed. He wished more than anything he did. Robb nodded sadly. "I talked to Professor Luwin, the old alchemist? He said ghosts can block out their traumas even better than living people, only they’ll subconsciously keep reacting to whatever’s keeping them here.” “Because they’re not meant to stay here,” Jon voiced. Robb bit his lip and sighed. “We have to help him,” he insisted. “To - to move on or whatever, or at least so he doesn’t keep having these weird -” Robb flapped his hands, lost for words. “It’s messed up!” “Yeah,” Jon agreed. He took a quick sip of his thermos, the warm blood comforting in his throat. Robb wrinkled his nose at the smell. “I think we should figure out everything we can about Theon back before he died. Think you can ask your dad?” “He’s not going to like it,” Robb frowned. “The chief of police isn’t supposed to be pulling favors for his kid.” He blew out a sigh that smelled like jerky and chicken. “But it’s for Theon.” “Yeah,” Jon said, looking down at his thermos. “For Theon.”
It took two days for Robb to get everything together, and two more days for him to read through it all. The entire thing was…unpleasant. “Ramsay Bolton’s got a clean record, but there’s been a lot of allegations.” Robb bit his lip, glaring at a piece of paper. “Including several accusations of domestic abuse.” “Theon?” Jon asked. Robb’s expression darkened. “He’s got a lot of hospital records. I couldn’t get the details, you know, privacy and stuff, but most of it was in an eight month period.” “When he met Bolton.” Somehow that didn’t surprise him, in an awful way. Ramsay had that look to him, like he was a man who enjoyed pain. “There’s another name referenced here, a Jeyne Poole. It’s bad stuff, Jon.” Robb looked ill. “I mean, it’s fucking bad.” Jon reached for one of Robb’s scribbled notes and skimmed it quickly. “Christ, he broke Theon's hand?” “That one a neighbor submitted to the police,” Robb said gloomily. “Broke his teeth too, apparently. When he was questioned, he just said they like it rough.” “I can show him rough,” Jon murmured, feeling at his teeth with his tongue. He tried to avoid feeding on humans, but he could always make the one exception. Robb was frowning though, squinting at his notes. “So this is why Theon’s still here, right? Because he needs to get revenge on Ramsay.” “What about Ramsay?” Shit. Jon leapt up at the same time as Robb, the two of them looking guiltily at Theon. Theon stared at them suspiciously. “We know he abused you,” Jon said bluntly. Robb sent him a scathing look and Theon looked appalled. “What?” he laughed, though he looked uncertain. “What are you talking about?” One of the walls shook. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Robb asked gentler. “Because he hurt you.” “No!” Theon snapped. The walls trembled. “He would’t do that, he was good to me -” “If you were good?” Jon asked coldly. The ghost flinched. “He didn’t hurt me, he was just - he got a little intense but he was always careful, he never hurt me.” The staircase shook hard and they all leapt back. Jon scowled. “I think your subconscious is telling you something." “He was good to me,” Theon insisted. The stairs shuddered. “He took care of me.” He kept looking at the stupid staircase, and Jon remembered Ramsay eyeing it too. Caressing the railing, looking at it almost reverently. And that had been where the smell had been, that had been where Theon always had his episodes... “He killed you,” Robb realized, and it dawned on Jon too. God. The lights flickered violently. “He killed you, didn’t he?” “NO!” Theon burst out, and Robb was blown across the room. Jon ran to him and the entire flat was shaking, the furniture quivering as Theon held his head. “He - never - never hurt - me -” he gasped out, face contorted. “He would never - I was good -” Robb struggled to sit up and roared: “He was an abusive son of a bitch and he murdered you!” Robb’s scream seemed to pierce through Theon’s confusion. The ghost’s eyes widened and he vanished, a lamp rattling against the wall. Robb's anger deflated and he leaned against Jon’s chest, groaning. “That went well,” he muttered unhappily. “Yeah,” Jon said. He looked at the staircase, which was perfectly still. The smell of old blood was stronger than ever, teeming across the room with dust and cold. When he closed his eyes he thought he recognized another smell: the smell of band-aids and tears.
Re: Hauntings 5/?brighterloveMay 29 2012, 18:59:24 UTC
See Jon knew Ramsay was an evil bastard, God I want to kick Ramsay the same way I wanted kick Danny(Being Human NA version. Poor Theon and his victim brain and PTSD. Robb. just can't help but trying to save him can he?(cause that's just how Robb rolls).
That last line was just yeah, like I am using that line the first chance I get, you hear me
Theon came back at three in the morning. Jon knew this because he woke when he heard Robb’s shriek and the sound of him falling out of bed. “Robb?” he shouted, rushing in. Robb was on the floor, staring at Theon was standing literally in his bed. His face was one of someone who’d learned something awful, someone who wished they’d never learned new truths. “Theon?” Robb asked gently, recovering. He stood up and gingerly approached his bed. Their flatmate didn’t move. “I remember,” Theon said in a small voice. Jon flinched. “Jeyne told me what he did to her and I said I was leaving…I said…” Theon shivered. “He pushed me.” “Theon...” “He killed me,” Theon said dully. Robb reached for his face and Theon leaned into his touch. There was something sad and intimate about how he craned into Robb’s hands, ghostly tears streaking down his cheeks. “Fuck him,” Robb said. Theon laughed gloomily. “Did enough of that,” he said. Robb’s face tightened. -- “Tell me what we’re doing,” Jon demanded. It was a weekend so neither of them had work, but Robb had gotten up at six and left the flat at seven. Jon followed because he knew Robb, and Robb was stupid when he got emotional. “We’re helping Theon,” Robb said firmly. He approached a door and Jon recognized the smell on it. No. “Can I help you?” Ramsay Bolton asked. Robb glowered and shoved his way inside. As soon as the door was shut, Jon uttering false apologies, he whirled around and snarled, “You killed him.” Ramsay blinked. “I’m sorry?” “You killed Theon,” he snarled. His hands were curled into fists Jon dearly hoped he wouldn’t use. Even in human form, he was strong. “I know you did.” “And who told you that?” Ramsay asked, smiling. “Theon?” Robb bit his lip and Jon groaned. The hothead hadn’t thought this through and they were stuck with a violent man in the most awkward situation possible. “Are you idiots?” Theon hissed. It took all Jon’s will not to jump; Theon must have followed them, somehow. “Get out, now! He could hurt you!” “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Ramsay said. Robb’s mouth dropped open and Theon whirled in surprise. Ramsay Bolton was staring at Theon. Ramsay Bolton was smiling at Theon. Ramsay Bolton could see Theon. “You can see me?” Theon asked faintly. Ramsay stepped forward, still smiling. “I saw you the first time. You walked around the flat yelling at me to look at you. You cried when I packed up the TV.” He knew, Jon realized. It chilled him in a way death never had. He knew Theon was here two years ago. “Theon…” Ramsay stepped toward Theon and Jon instinctively stepped between them, forgetting for a moment that Theon was intangible. “I miss you. What happened was an accident.” “Choking me, calling me a whore, and shoving me down the stairs was an accident?” Theon hissed, though his anger paled to the fear on his face. Ramsay smiled in false sadness. “You dying was an accident.” “You dying won’t be,” Robb promised, growling low. Ramsay moved toward him and Jon snapped out his fangs in warning. The man only laughed. “I’m not afraid of a little teeth,” he said, though he stepped back anyway. He looked longingly at Theon, almost like he was in love. “Theon, I miss you.” “You miss abusing me.” “I miss you. Stay with me.” “In your fucking dreams!” Robb snarled. Theon stepped backwards, paling, and one of his legs went through the wall. Ramsay advanced, a dark lust in his smile. “If I kill myself, can I have you again?” He was serious, Jon realized with horror. One hundred fucking percent serious, and they all knew it. Robb was gaping at the man and Theon cringed. “No,” Theon said, but it was weak. Ramsay grinned. “No, I’m not…I don’t…” “He has me,” Robb snapped, and what the fuck? Ramsay turned to him and his expression was deathly. “Come on,” Jon said, grabbing Robb’s arm. He pointedly exaggerated his mouth’s movement so Ramsay would see his fangs. “Let’s get out of here.” He glanced at Theon. “Go home first.” Theon nodded and blew away. Ramsay only snorted. “I’ll have him back. He’s mine.” “I don’t fucking think so,” Robb growled and Jon shoved him out the door. Ramsay laughed. “He’s mine!” he called, voice drifting into the street. “He’ll always be mine!” “Don’t count on it,” Robb hissed, and Jon felt a headache coming on.
“He’s infuriating,” he groaned. Ygritte raised an eyebrow at him, gingerly sipping at her thermos. “But Robb likes him. I can’t figure out why on earth, but he does.” He glanced at her. “Have you met ghosts?”
“Not many,” she shrugged comfortably. Ygritte was older than him and, according to her, smarter and prettier. “But the ones I’ve met aren’t happy little souls, Snow.”
“Don’t call me that.” She smiled fleetingly.
“There’s a reason he’s here,” Ygritte promised him. “Mark my words, he doesn’t stick to this grimy world without a cause.” She took another sip. “And if he don’t know it, all the worse for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll see,” Ygritte smiled, and he could see blood in her teeth.
--
The walls were shaking when he got home, most likely due to Theon. Apparently ghosts could influence their surroundings and Theon had managed to physically touch the table before. Well, he’d kicked it over and spilled all the coffee.
“Hullo?” Jon called, shrugging off his jacket. He was tired and thirsty, and not in the mood for Theon’s jokes. “Robb, you home?”
Apparently not. Jon sighed and started up the stairs toward his room, only to stop midway. Theon was at the landing, curled into himself in the corner with his back melted into the wall. Jon would have ignored him except he was whispering, so low Jon could barely make out the frantic words.
“I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I’m yours, please don’t, thank you, thank you…”
“Theon?” Jon said hesitantly. Theon looked up at him, eyes wide and glazed.
“I’ll be good,” he said, quivering, and suddenly vanished.
--
Robb was frantic when Jon told him, and became increasingly more worried when Theon didn’t reappear.
“It’s been five hours!” he ranted, hands shaking. “Where did he even go?”
“Limbo?” Jon suggested. He’d thought of calling Ygritte but deigned to wait a little longer, just in case Theon was pulling something. It didn’t feel like he was. “Calm down, at least we know ghosts can’t be hurt.”
“We do?” Robb stared, and Jon cursed - they actually didn’t. His silence panicked Robb more, and Robb shouted, “THEON!”
“Yes?” Theon drawled. They both jumped and he grinned from the chair he was sitting in. Robb swore loudly.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he snapped; he sounded like his mother. “We were freaking out, what the fuck!”
“Where have I been?” Theon frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“You disappeared a bit after I came home,” Jon reminded. Theon blinked.
“When did you get home?” he asked, and Jon exchanged glances with Robb. Theon scowled. “If you two are going to be weirdos, I’m going to go haunt my sister.”
He puffed away and Jon put a hand to his face. Robb was saying something but he didn’t hear it, remembering Ygritte’s words to him. He doesn’t stick to this grimy world without a cause.
“What’s going on?” Robb asked plaintively. He looked at Robb grimly.
“Guess we’ll have to find out.”
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This is so good, I can't wait to see more!
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(also this is brilliant & Ygritte is a queen)
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(also, awwww ♥)
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“I talked to Jeyne,” he told Jon quietly. Jeyne was a pretty hospital intern, a human who dabbled in psychology. “She said it sounds like he went through some kind of trauma.”
“He’s dead,” Jon pointed out. “I expect that’s traumatic.”
“He seems okay with it,” Robb retorted. His handsome face was marred with a frown. “I’m worried, Jon. What you were talking about doesn’t sound good.”
“He’s dead,” Jon repeated. “What could be good?”
"You're dead," Robb snapped, and Jon didn't reply.
--
When Jon came home he was surprised by a man staring longingly at their front door. The man was tall and pale, with long hair and a wistful expression Jon couldn’t quite define. He stared so hopefully that Jon felt almost guilty when he spoke.
“Can I help you?” The man turned, startled.
“Sorry,” he apologized with a grin. His smile showed all his teeth. “I'm Ramsay, I...I didn’t mean to creep you out, it’s just…I used to live here.” He looked back at the door sadly and Jon felt an uncomfortable need to comfort the man.
“I’m Jon, I live here at the moment.” He paused. “Do you want to come in?” he offered. Ramsay’s eyes lit up.
“You sure?” Ramsay asked. No, not really, but Jon unlocked the door and gestured for him to go in. Ramsay entered with a wide smile that showed all his teeth as he took in the flat. His pale eyes fixed onto the staircase.
“I moved out two years ago,” Ramsay said. Jon hadn’t asked. “But we lived here six months before that, me and Theon.” Theon.
“Theon?” Jon asked casually. He glanced around the room to see if Theon was here, but the ghost was curiously absent.
“Boyfriend,” Ramsay said. His hands flexed as he approached the staircase, tentatively touching the railing. “He died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I miss him,” Ramsay confessed, trailing his hand on the rail. “There were good times.” He smiled and for a second Jon thought he glimpsed something darker, something like Thorne had when he tormented new recruits.
“Great times,” Ramsay amended, and Jon wondered where Theon had gone.
--
“Where’d you go this afternoon?” Jon asked at dinner. Robb insisted they sit with him even though the other two couldn’t eat. “Your boyfriend showed up.”
“He did?” Robb said, and Theon looked just as alarmed.
“Ramsay was here?” Theon seemed elated but also almost afraid, upset. “I…I thought I heard his voice.”
“And then…?”
“I just sort of winked out,” he confessed, looking confused. “I don’t know why, I wanted to see him.”
“You have interesting taste,” Jon mused. Ramsay was nothing like what Jon would have expected. Truth be told, he would have imagined Theon’s boyfriend to be more like Robb (which was uncomfortable because Robb and Theon was not a combination he enjoyed).
Theon stuck his tongue out and Robb laughed at the reprieve. But soon Theon frowned.
“Why didn’t I get to see him?” he asked. Jon wondered the same.
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"It's all so different," Ramsay sighed. His eyes fixed once again on the staircase. "But still the same."
“Ramsay,” Theon gasped from the kitchen. A wall shook and Jon glanced over at the human, who hadn’t noticed. “He’s here.”
“He can’t see you,” Jon reminded in a whisper, but the ghost paid him no mind.
“Look at me,” Theon pleaded. Something about his voice was sick and needy as he stared longingly at the living man. “Look at me.”
One of the pipes blew out, water spraying from the kitchen sink.
“Shit!” Robb yelled, running to it. Jon gave a pointed look at Theon, who was groaning sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. Ramsay just laughed.
“Never did that when we lived here,” he cracked. Theon smiled, eyes fluttering with memory.
Jon frowned.
--
He was woken that night by the bed shaking. No, not the bed, the entire floor was groaning ominously. When he got up to investigate he found Robb in his pajamas.
“Robb?” he croaked. Robb pointed to the figure huddled in corner of the landing, eyes wide. Jon approached Theon carefully, crouching down to meet his eyes.
“…be good, I’ll be good, please don’t I was good, no, no, I’m sorry…”
“Theon?” Jon said quietly. Theon looked at him.
“I was good,” he repeated. Jon nodded.
“You were good,” he agreed, glancing at Robb. Robb looked sick.
Theon grabbed at his arm, his grip surprisingly strong for someone incorporeal. “Tell him I was good, tell him…”
“Tell who?” Jon asked carefully.
“I was good,” Theon insisted, and he was gone.
--
“Who do you think ‘he’ is?” Robb asked over coffee. They were outside Robb’s work at the animal shelter, using up his lunch break.
“I don’t know," Jon sighed. He wished more than anything he did. Robb nodded sadly.
"I talked to Professor Luwin, the old alchemist? He said ghosts can block out their traumas even better than living people, only they’ll subconsciously keep reacting to whatever’s keeping them here.”
“Because they’re not meant to stay here,” Jon voiced. Robb bit his lip and sighed.
“We have to help him,” he insisted. “To - to move on or whatever, or at least so he doesn’t keep having these weird -” Robb flapped his hands, lost for words. “It’s messed up!”
“Yeah,” Jon agreed. He took a quick sip of his thermos, the warm blood comforting in his throat. Robb wrinkled his nose at the smell. “I think we should figure out everything we can about Theon back before he died. Think you can ask your dad?”
“He’s not going to like it,” Robb frowned. “The chief of police isn’t supposed to be pulling favors for his kid.” He blew out a sigh that smelled like jerky and chicken. “But it’s for Theon.”
“Yeah,” Jon said, looking down at his thermos. “For Theon.”
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omg this is killing me in all the best ways
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“Ramsay Bolton’s got a clean record, but there’s been a lot of allegations.” Robb bit his lip, glaring at a piece of paper. “Including several accusations of domestic abuse.”
“Theon?” Jon asked. Robb’s expression darkened.
“He’s got a lot of hospital records. I couldn’t get the details, you know, privacy and stuff, but most of it was in an eight month period.”
“When he met Bolton.” Somehow that didn’t surprise him, in an awful way. Ramsay had that look to him, like he was a man who enjoyed pain.
“There’s another name referenced here, a Jeyne Poole. It’s bad stuff, Jon.” Robb looked ill. “I mean, it’s fucking bad.”
Jon reached for one of Robb’s scribbled notes and skimmed it quickly. “Christ, he broke Theon's hand?”
“That one a neighbor submitted to the police,” Robb said gloomily. “Broke his teeth too, apparently. When he was questioned, he just said they like it rough.”
“I can show him rough,” Jon murmured, feeling at his teeth with his tongue. He tried to avoid feeding on humans, but he could always make the one exception. Robb was frowning though, squinting at his notes.
“So this is why Theon’s still here, right? Because he needs to get revenge on Ramsay.”
“What about Ramsay?” Shit.
Jon leapt up at the same time as Robb, the two of them looking guiltily at Theon. Theon stared at them suspiciously.
“We know he abused you,” Jon said bluntly. Robb sent him a scathing look and Theon looked appalled.
“What?” he laughed, though he looked uncertain. “What are you talking about?” One of the walls shook.
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Robb asked gentler. “Because he hurt you.”
“No!” Theon snapped. The walls trembled. “He would’t do that, he was good to me -”
“If you were good?” Jon asked coldly. The ghost flinched.
“He didn’t hurt me, he was just - he got a little intense but he was always careful, he never hurt me.” The staircase shook hard and they all leapt back. Jon scowled.
“I think your subconscious is telling you something."
“He was good to me,” Theon insisted. The stairs shuddered. “He took care of me.”
He kept looking at the stupid staircase, and Jon remembered Ramsay eyeing it too. Caressing the railing, looking at it almost reverently. And that had been where the smell had been, that had been where Theon always had his episodes...
“He killed you,” Robb realized, and it dawned on Jon too. God. The lights flickered violently. “He killed you, didn’t he?”
“NO!” Theon burst out, and Robb was blown across the room. Jon ran to him and the entire flat was shaking, the furniture quivering as Theon held his head.
“He - never - never hurt - me -” he gasped out, face contorted. “He would never - I was good -”
Robb struggled to sit up and roared: “He was an abusive son of a bitch and he murdered you!”
Robb’s scream seemed to pierce through Theon’s confusion. The ghost’s eyes widened and he vanished, a lamp rattling against the wall. Robb's anger deflated and he leaned against Jon’s chest, groaning.
“That went well,” he muttered unhappily.
“Yeah,” Jon said. He looked at the staircase, which was perfectly still. The smell of old blood was stronger than ever, teeming across the room with dust and cold. When he closed his eyes he thought he recognized another smell: the smell of band-aids and tears.
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That last line was just yeah, like I am using that line the first chance I get, you hear me
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“Robb?” he shouted, rushing in. Robb was on the floor, staring at Theon was standing literally in his bed. His face was one of someone who’d learned something awful, someone who wished they’d never learned new truths.
“Theon?” Robb asked gently, recovering. He stood up and gingerly approached his bed. Their flatmate didn’t move.
“I remember,” Theon said in a small voice. Jon flinched. “Jeyne told me what he did to her and I said I was leaving…I said…” Theon shivered. “He pushed me.”
“Theon...”
“He killed me,” Theon said dully. Robb reached for his face and Theon leaned into his touch. There was something sad and intimate about how he craned into Robb’s hands, ghostly tears streaking down his cheeks.
“Fuck him,” Robb said. Theon laughed gloomily.
“Did enough of that,” he said. Robb’s face tightened.
--
“Tell me what we’re doing,” Jon demanded. It was a weekend so neither of them had work, but Robb had gotten up at six and left the flat at seven. Jon followed because he knew Robb, and Robb was stupid when he got emotional.
“We’re helping Theon,” Robb said firmly. He approached a door and Jon recognized the smell on it. No.
“Can I help you?” Ramsay Bolton asked. Robb glowered and shoved his way inside. As soon as the door was shut, Jon uttering false apologies, he whirled around and snarled, “You killed him.”
Ramsay blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“You killed Theon,” he snarled. His hands were curled into fists Jon dearly hoped he wouldn’t use. Even in human form, he was strong. “I know you did.”
“And who told you that?” Ramsay asked, smiling. “Theon?”
Robb bit his lip and Jon groaned. The hothead hadn’t thought this through and they were stuck with a violent man in the most awkward situation possible.
“Are you idiots?” Theon hissed. It took all Jon’s will not to jump; Theon must have followed them, somehow. “Get out, now! He could hurt you!”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Ramsay said. Robb’s mouth dropped open and Theon whirled in surprise. Ramsay Bolton was staring at Theon. Ramsay Bolton was smiling at Theon. Ramsay Bolton could see Theon.
“You can see me?” Theon asked faintly. Ramsay stepped forward, still smiling.
“I saw you the first time. You walked around the flat yelling at me to look at you. You cried when I packed up the TV.”
He knew, Jon realized. It chilled him in a way death never had. He knew Theon was here two years ago.
“Theon…” Ramsay stepped toward Theon and Jon instinctively stepped between them, forgetting for a moment that Theon was intangible. “I miss you. What happened was an accident.”
“Choking me, calling me a whore, and shoving me down the stairs was an accident?” Theon hissed, though his anger paled to the fear on his face. Ramsay smiled in false sadness.
“You dying was an accident.”
“You dying won’t be,” Robb promised, growling low. Ramsay moved toward him and Jon snapped out his fangs in warning. The man only laughed.
“I’m not afraid of a little teeth,” he said, though he stepped back anyway. He looked longingly at Theon, almost like he was in love. “Theon, I miss you.”
“You miss abusing me.”
“I miss you. Stay with me.”
“In your fucking dreams!” Robb snarled. Theon stepped backwards, paling, and one of his legs went through the wall. Ramsay advanced, a dark lust in his smile.
“If I kill myself, can I have you again?”
He was serious, Jon realized with horror. One hundred fucking percent serious, and they all knew it. Robb was gaping at the man and Theon cringed.
“No,” Theon said, but it was weak. Ramsay grinned. “No, I’m not…I don’t…”
“He has me,” Robb snapped, and what the fuck? Ramsay turned to him and his expression was deathly.
“Come on,” Jon said, grabbing Robb’s arm. He pointedly exaggerated his mouth’s movement so Ramsay would see his fangs. “Let’s get out of here.” He glanced at Theon. “Go home first.”
Theon nodded and blew away. Ramsay only snorted. “I’ll have him back. He’s mine.”
“I don’t fucking think so,” Robb growled and Jon shoved him out the door. Ramsay laughed.
“He’s mine!” he called, voice drifting into the street. “He’ll always be mine!”
“Don’t count on it,” Robb hissed, and Jon felt a headache coming on.
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