fandom_muses: Topic 17 - Ghosts

Do I believe in ghosts? Absolutely. Do I believe in spirits? Now that’s a little trickier.

I loved my wife...probably more than I should have. So much so that I forgave her when I found out she was cheating on me. A string of guys, all while I was out on different assignments. I still remember the night she came clean...crying, sobbing, holding onto me like her life depended on it.

Even back then, I’d been going for the deep cover missions that kept me away. I was in no real position to condemn her, so I didn’t.

To this day, I still remember just how fabulous the sex was that night. Funny thing is? It only got better every time. I took a break from the heavy stuff, accepted a few short-term assignments. We’d never been closer...there were days when I actually felt halfway human. Guess all that shit about forgiveness is the real deal...it *is* divine. Once the air was clear, we were happier than we’d ever been...maybe even really happy for the first time.

Lasted all of six months before she died.

Now? The only ghosts I see are in my sleep...black and white, no shades of grey. Death-white skin and jet black blood, burned into my memory from crime scene photos. White face, black eyes, all from a mugshot in a file folder.

And in the time since her death, her ghost stalks me in the form of the men she fucked...all of them have managed to track me down in the years since she was murdered. Verbal beating or physical, her face is in their eyes...each and every one of them.

[locked to all personnel at APO and within the CIA]

Then I finally stood before the last man who had her...and ghosts in black and white swirled around me, chanting vicious encouragements without saying a word. Black blood, white flesh, a face in a photo from a file folder and a computer screen, complete with an address.

I don’t know about the kind of ghosts that live with the monsters under the bed...but I do believe in Death, in all his glossy black-and-white glory. If ghosts are real, they answer to him, and he sat there eating away at my brain as I stood before the man who murdered my wife.

But instead of reaching for my gun as he stammered and stuttered out a half-assed explanation, I retreated yet again...safe behind my walls, inside my head, because even revenge wasn’t worth risking the suffering.

It wasn’t worth risking my freedom and my job...the only real security blankets I had left.

And at the moment...I had a message for The Cardinal.

[/locked]

Muse: Thomas Grace
Fandom: Alias
Words: 450