Welcome to Gaia! ::

Shiloh had done much the same in the way of ghosting around, ignored by everyone but unlike Maebe, it was the exact opposite of what he wanted. He’d spent his first few days awake yelling until his energy fizzled out, until there was nothing left for him to do but lie there and be the ghost that he’d become. He hated it, hated that no one could hear him, that no one could feel him. But most of all he hated that they were upset and grieving for him, that he had caused this pain and he was right there, but there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

He hadn’t been able to wipe the tears from Maebe’s eyes, or to make her smile. Of course, a smile was hard enough to achieve even when he was alive, but what he wouldn’t give to see her face wrinkled with laughter instead of tears.

There hadn’t been anything he could do before, but as the days passed, he grew stronger, and he’d unwittingly realized his new ability to move things, if only slightly. His attempts hadn’t worked on Ian, and after worrying that he’d done more harm than good trying to communicate, he wasn’t sure if he should try again. He didn’t know how Maebe felt about the supernatural, or whether she’d believe it was him but…

He did know something that would make it pretty hard to deny.

Shiloh hadn’t been sure exactly how he was going to execute his plan but Maebe solved the problem for him, pulling out a tiny mirror, smudged with dirt. He hoped that she’d try to clean it, and she did, though she wiped the fog of her breath away far too quickly for him to do anything, and he drew his hand back, hoping for a second chance.

Luckily it was Maebe, and his best friend, and that meant he knew that despite her laziness, she would hate to lose, even if it was only to a mirror. Much to his delight, she breathed on it again, though he’d never know how wrong he’d assume about her reasons behind it. He didn’t know, couldn’t know, but what he did know was that she’d given him an opportunity, and he was determined to put a smile on her sullen face.

His fingers were shaky as they touched the glass, foggy from the warmth of Maebe’s breath. They were shaky because he was trying to hold in his laughter as he traced first the letters and then the heart around them, adding the finishing touches of an arrow with a flourish.

Then he was all but lost to his laughter, extremely pleased with himself.

He barely heard her utter his name over his laughter, even if he had been alive, or solid at least, her hands would have missed him, as he stood doubled over, smiling wider than he had in days.

“Who else, you little lovebird? When were you going to tell me?”

She couldn’t hear him, but he liked talking as if she could, it made it easier to keep up the charade that everything would be okay, that his nightmare wasn’t permanent.

“Chin up, Maebs,” he said brightly, pressing touching his fingers gently to her face. He couldn’t feel, but she likely would, a phantom touch against her skin. “I’m just teasing you. But, that was awfully nice of him you know, even if you don't like him. He’s a good guy, mostly, I think.”

Whatever Shiloh had expected, it hadn’t been that, it hadn’t been the absolute recoil in horror from his touch that left him standing there, shocked, as Maebe flew backward onto his bed.

The shock faded, eventually, and left behind in its wake something worse, and far more painful, as he stared at her rocking form beneath the covers. He slowly lowered his gaze to his hands, which were a poor example of what they had once been, no longer solid or opaque, translucent around the edges. He glanced back up at Maebe, almost hopefully, almost like she was just pulling a prank on him, that this was all just some big joke.

But it wasn’t a joke, and Maebe’s little blanket lump reminded him too much of himself, as a child, cowering in much that same way from an unseen creature, from the shadows that went bump in the night. He stared at her, with his own dawning and horrifying realization that he was just a part of a nightmare, he had become one, become something less than human.

He was dead, after all, and all of his humanity had been left floating lifeless with his body in the pod. What he was now, he didn’t know but Maebe’s reaction bore heavily on his heart, and he struggled with what to do next.

He could leave, leaver her room and leave her alone and that would be it. He wouldn’t bother her anymore. But if he did that he wouldn’t be Shiloh, he wouldn’t be her best friend, and the very thought of saying goodbye like this, the thought that he might not ever return to being human, to being alive, to hearing her laughter, her too quick to punch fists, to feel her sitting next to him, and knowing the world wasn’t so bad because some people just made it worth living, the thought of giving all that up – he couldn’t think of it. He refused to. He had to make her see, somehow.

His energy dictated how much he could perform, but it was enough for him to grab some makeup lying on the cabinet, dropping it not so quietly next to the mirror as he rolled it off of the cabinet and onto the floor. It was heavy in his hands, like lifting a pile of bricks but he had no breath with which to fog up the mirror.

His scrawl was messy and barely legible in pink lipstick, but he hoped it would get the point across as he nudged it gently towards the bed, in further hopes that she might calm down enough to read it.

It read, “Shy sorry.”