Nevermind That Noise You Heard

by wordslinging

Summary:

When Agron and Duro inherit a run-down Victorian mansion in a picture-perfect small town, they know keeping the house and fixing it up is going to be a handful. What neither of them was counting on is the ghost of a former inhabitant still hanging around.

Notes:

This started as a Halloween fic last October, and then some inconvenient things including writer's block and my second year of grad school happened. But it's finally finished, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it!

Neither Agron or Duro knew their uncle Raymond well. They saw him at family reunions and got birthday presents from him when they were kids, and when their mom found out he was in the hospital they sent him cards and talked to him on the phone once or twice. But that was pretty much it, and Agron remembers Uncle Raymond (who was actually their mom's second cousin once removed, or something like that) as a solitary, closed-off guy.

Which makes it pretty surprising when they find out he left them his house.

"I think he thought of you two as the closest thing he had to kids of his own," their mom tells them on the drive back from the will reading. "Even though he hadn't seen you in so long."

"Maybe," Agron agrees. "Man, now I wish we'd visited him more often."

"Or gone to see him in the hospital, at least," Duro adds.

Their mom shakes her head. "When I offered to come out, he said he didn't want any visitors. It's sad, but I don't think he wanted to have anyone to say goodbye to."

The house is willed to Agron and Duro equally, so it's up to them to decide whether to share it or sell it or what. Neither of them has ever even been there, so it seems like the first thing to do is go take a look at it. It's in a little town called Woodfall in Pennsylvania, a few hours drive from their mom and dad's house in Baltimore. Agron has enough vacation stocked up to take some time off work, and Duro's still in post-graduation job hunt limbo, so it's easy enough for them to throw their suitcases in the back of Agron's car and head up there.

They stop for lunch on the way and get into town by early evening, but it takes long enough for Agron to find the house that it's fully dark by the time they get there. When they do, Agron rolls to a stop in the middle of the otherwise empty road, and Duro sits up straight and leans forward.

"Fuck," he says, and Agron makes a noise of agreement.

Uncle Raymond's executor sent them a picture of the house, so they knew it was big, but the picture failed to really convey just how big. It's a sprawling Victorian that obviously needs some work--the porch is sagging, the roof's missing some shingles, and a couple of windows are broken--but even in a state of disrepair it's beautiful.

Duro fishes the envelope with the keys out of his bag while Agron pulls into the long, sloping drive, and they head up the porch steps together. The door creaks loudly when Duro opens it, and when Agron flips a light switch in the foyer, nothing happens.

"Shit," he says. "Guess we need to find the circuit breaker."

Duro turns on the flashlight on his phone and they look around. Agron spots broken glass on the floor and sweeps it aside with the toe of his shoe--it looks like part of a beer bottle, and he spots more glass and some cigarette butts in a corner.

"I'm guessing this stuff isn't from Uncle Raymond," Duro says. "Unless he had a wild side we never knew about."

"Probably some kids broke in or something," Agron suggests, thinking of the broken windows. "This place was empty for a couple of months while he was in the hospital."

They look around until they find a door in the kitchen that opens onto a flight of stairs going down.

"Well, this isn't creepy at all," Duro comments while they stand in the doorway.

"Nope," Agron replies. "Not at all. You go first."

Before Duro can start down the stairs, there's a sharp knock on the front door that makes them both jump, and a voice calls "Anyone in here?"

They go back into the foyer to see a man standing in the doorway, dressed in a cop uniform and shining a big flashlight around. Agron feels a sudden, instinctive urge to raise his hands, and sees Duro's hands actually twitch upwards--there were a couple of incidents in their adolescence where one or both of them was found by the police somewhere they weren't supposed to be, and it takes Agron a second to remember they have every right to be here.

"Evening, officer," he says calmly, squinting in the glare of the flashlight.

"Evening," the cop replies, fixing him with a square, direct gaze. "Mind telling me what you two are doing here?"

"Our uncle left us this house," Agron tells him. "We just got in from out of town to check it out."

The cop angles his flashlight so that it's not so blinding, but keeps looking at Agron with that piercing gaze. "You're Ray Berger's nephews?"

"We've got IDs and the deed if you need proof," Duro says.

The cop nods, coming further into the room. "I'd better take a look at those."

They show him their licenses and the deed, and he wedges his flashlight between his shoulder and neck to write down their information in a notebook. When he's done, he puts the notebook away and offers his hand first to Agron, then Duro.

"I'm Sergeant Nakos," he says as they shake hands. "Why don't we get some lights on?"

They head back down to the basement, which is somewhat less creepy with a giant cop flashlight guiding the way, and find the circuit breaker.

"Sorry about that back there," Sergeant Nakos says as he holds the light up for Agron to flip the breaker. "We've had some problems with trespassing and vandalism while the house has been empty."

Agron nods. "We got that impression. Local kids?"

Nakos nods. "Once word got out that the house was vacant, they started coming here. We've been sending patrols by more often, but not before they did some damage, as you've seen."

Duro shrugs. "Kids are kids. Seems like the house already needed work, anyway."

Nakos glances over at him with a slight smile, nodding. "True. So, are you two planning on staying?"

"We're not sure yet," Agron says as they head back up. "The whole thing sort of just fell in our laps. It seems like a really cool place."

"But it remains to be seen if either of us is up to the task of owning a house this size," Duro adds. They get back up to the kitchen and he finds a switch to try; this time, the light flickers on.

Nakos takes out his wallet and pulls out a white card, offering it to Agron. "Well, I'll let you get settled in. But if you need anything, let me know."

Agron nods, taking the card. "Thanks."

They bring their bags inside and find bedrooms to stay in on the second floor, then head out again to find some dinner. A short drive takes them to a nice-looking little area with some shops and restaurants, and they end up at a diner. Their waitress is nice, a young woman with dark hair and eyes and a warm smile, and the food's really good.

"Are you the ones who inherited the Berger house?" she asks while she's refilling their coffee.

Agron blinks. "Uh, yeah. How'd you know?"

The waitress, whose nametag identifies her as Kore, gives him another friendly smile. "Spartacus stopped in here for coffee a while ago--sorry, Sergeant Nakos. He told me about meeting you at the house. And I know most of the locals around here, so I figured you might be our newcomers."

"Guilty as charged," Agron says. "I'm Agron, and this is my brother Duro."

"Welcome to Woodfall," Kore says. "So, can I get you two some dessert? We've got some really good German apple pie tonight."

Duro quirks his eyebrows, looking intrigued. "Real German apple pie?"

"Baked this morning by a real German," Kore informs him.

She brings them each a slice, and after taking a few bites, Agron and Duro both declare it good, but not quite equal to their grandmother's. Kore laughs.

"I'll leave that part out when I tell Lugo you liked it," she says. "Unless you want him challenging your grandmother to a bakeoff."

"Well, Grandma Ruth lives in Minnesota, so she won't exactly be competition for our business," Duro says, in a solemn tone but with a hint of a smile, which Kore returns.

"Good to know. Hope we see you back here soon, then."

They drive back to the house and get settled in for the night. Agron wants to spend some more time exploring the town when he can, but first it seems like there's plenty to be done exploring the house.

***

They spend the next few days settling in and taking stock of things. The inside of the house doesn't seem too bad--there are plenty of little things that could use fixing, but no serious structural damage. Mostly it needs a good cleaning after having been vacant for so long, and it's crammed full of stuff that needs to be sorted through, pictures and books and knick-knacks.

Aside from the fact that neither of them has any experience with home ownership, this is pretty much right up their alley, with Agron's degree in architecture and Duro's in history. They both used to spend summers working for their Uncle Walt's construction firm, so they're hopeful they'll be able to do a lot of the renovation themselves. They've also both been absolute nerds for neat old stuff since they were kids. The hardest part so far is to keep themselves on task with cleaning and organizing and not just spend hours looking at everything they find.

"Who are all these people?" Duro asks as they sift through yet another box of old photographs in one of the cramped attic rooms. "Are they family members?"

Agron picks up a photo of two young women in high-waisted dresses, turning it over to look at the delicate, flowing script on the back. Clara and Agnes Foster, Easter 1909. "I don't recognize the names. We can email Aunt Kay and ask her." She's the genealogy buff in the family--if there was ever a Foster branch, she'll probably know.

As he sets the photo on top of the pile, the door to the room they're in suddenly slams shut, making them both startle. A bunch of photos balanced on Duro's knee tumble off and go sliding across the floor.

"Fuck, I hate when that happens," Agron says.

"It seems to happen a lot, too," Duro comments as they gather up the photos. "Maybe the house is haunted."

Agron snorts. "Or maybe it's a drafty old house and you've watched too many horror movies."

"No such thing," Duro retorts.

Agron has to admit, if he were the type to believe in haunted houses, this would be a prime candidate. Duro's right that doors shutting on their own seems to happen a lot, and there are weird noises, usually coming from the attic. Old houses make noise, Agron knows that, but sometimes they sound so much like footsteps pacing back and forth or voices just too faint to be understood that he can't help but get a little wigged out. He's not about to actually start believing the house is haunted, though, because that's dumb.

Duro, it turns out, doesn't share that conviction so strongly.

"Dude, you need to see this," he says, carrying his laptop into the kitchen a few days later. "I left this up with the webcam recording in the attic last night."

Agron barely looks up from where he's making breakfast on the stove. "Seriously? Still on your amateur ghost-hunting kick, huh?"

"Just come look," Duro says. There's a big butcher's block table they've been using as an island, and he sets the laptop down there and drags over a tall wooden stool.

"Unless you want burned eggs, give me a sec," Agron replies. A few minutes later, he slides a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of Duro and sits down next to him with his own. "Okay, what exactly do I need to see?"

Duro hits play on the video, and Agron recognizes the room they were in a few days ago, boxes and stacks of old pictures still all over the floor. Nothing noticeable happens for a few seconds, and then the open door starts to swing back and forth, slowly at first and then picking up speed, the hinges creaking. Duro looks at his brother expectantly, and Agron rolls his eyes.

"You got a video of a cross-breeze in the attic, good for you."

"All the windows up there are shut, genius," Duro points out. "Besides, this is last night."

"So?"

"You remember it being breezy yesterday?"

Agron thinks about it, and actually, yesterday was unusually warm and humid for Pennsylvania in early October. Even at night--he'd ended up dragging a box fan up from the basement to set up in his room, because even with the window wide open he wasn't getting a breeze.

"Okay, but--"

Duro puts a hand on his arm. "Wait, wait, there's something else. Watch."

Agron dutifully watches, and a second later one photo on top of a stack of them slides off and flutters to the floor.

"Okay, Scully, even if this was just a breeze, you have an explanation for just one photo getting blown over and not a bunch of them?" Duro asks smugly.

"If your explanation is 'ghosts', I'm gonna go with 'anything else but that'." Agron retorts.

It's always been like this with them--Agron's always been the more skeptical one, while Duro believes or is at least willing to believe in all sorts of things. Agron had quit believing in Santa by the time he was six, but Duro clung on until almost nine, and even though Agron didn't believe he kept dutifully playing along with their parents and got into more than one fight with kids who said things about how stupid and gullible his little brother was.

"Right, so the possibility of life after death is out of the question, but a breeze that only touches certain things in a room with no open windows on a still night, you're on board with that?"

Agron holds up his hands. "Look, I don't know how it happened. Weird shit happens sometimes even if you're not in a creaky old house. It doesn't mean--"

"Want to know what picture it was?" Duro persists. "I went up there and found it. It's that one we were looking at with the two girls, Clara and Agnes. Don't you think it's at least worth seeing if we can find out a little more about them?"

"Honestly? No," Agron tells him. "But I'm guessing you're not going to shut up about this and you're going to drag me into it whether I like it or not."

Duro grins at him. "You bet I am."

***

After breakfast, they go back up to the attic and spend some more time sifting through old pictures and papers. When Agron declares it's time for a break around noon, they've found a few more pictures of Clara and Agnes, as well as some of a man named Charles and a woman named Nora. Pictures of the girls when they're younger make it clear that Agnes was a few years older. She has a curvy frame, oval face, and pin-straight hair, while Clara is more petite, with a heart-shaped face and a head full of curls.

A box of papers turns up a letter from a Bertrand Foster writing from New York City. The letter's dated 1901, and Bertrand writes that he hopes Charles, Nora, and the girls are settling into the new house comfortably. Aside from those things, they don't find much, which seems odd considering the family seems to have lived here for at least eight years.

"Maybe we could find some records of them at the public library or something," Duro suggests as they head for the stairs.

"Sure," Agron agrees flippantly. "Maybe we can pick up some books on how to deal with ghosts in your house while we're at it."

Duro perks up. "Hey, that's not a bad plan. We should really try to get more of an idea of what we might be dealing with."

Agron sighs, tipping his head back. "Sometimes I can't believe we're related." He punches Duro's arm lightly. "Hey, last one downstairs makes lunch."

They both rush down the hall, elbowing and shoving each other, but as soon as they hit the staircase Agron realizes this is a really bad idea. The stairs leading down from the attic are steep and narrow, the boards warped with age, and Duro almost pitches headlong down them before Agron grabs him by the arm and hauls him back, gripping the wobbly banister with his other hand.

"Okay," he says once he's swallowed the lump of sudden panic in his throat. "Okay, let's...not do that again."

"Yeah," Duro agrees slowly, breathing heavily. "No staircase racing. Works for me."

Once they've calmed down and had lunch, Agron drags Duro back to the work of cleaning and organizing the rest of the house ("y'know, what we're actually here for?"). They're sorting all the stuff they find into piles--things they'd like to keep for themselves, things they think other family members might want, things they might look into selling or donating somewhere--and once everything in a given room is sorted they give it a thorough cleaning. Once they have everything in order, Agron wants to get a professional appraisal on the house, find out exactly what work it needs and what it might be worth if they decide to sell.

Agron goes to bed that night with an ache in his lower back from cleaning and lifting, but the satisfaction of having gotten a lot done. He has weird, vivid dreams all night, the kind where one dream slips into another so they end up in a tangled web of stories that makes sense while you're still asleep but starts to unravel as soon as you wake up. That's not too unusual, given that he's spent days on end sifting through bits of other people's lives. It's also not surprising that the Foster sisters make an appearance, and the last image floating in Agron's mind when he wakes is one of Clara sitting on a stone bench in a garden, talking to a young man sitting next to her.

He's still half-asleep, that last dream lingering in his mind, when a series of loud thuds startles him so badly he almost rolls out of bed.

Agron stumbles to his feet and yanks his bedroom door open, sticking his head out into the hallway. A moment later, Duro does the same, and they stare blearily at each other.

"What the fuck was that?" Agron asks.

"Sounds like it came from upstairs," Duro answers.

They head up to the third floor and look around, then to the attic, but they don't find anything knocked over or anything that looks out of place.

"This is fucking creepy," Duro says. "It kind of sounded like--"

"Don't start with your ghost shit," Agron says.

Duro raises his hands innocently. "Hey, I didn't say the g-word."

They head back down to their rooms, and Agron can't help but think he knows what Duro was going to say. It sounded like something--or someone--falling down the stairs.

***

They have some errands to run the next day, and at Duro's insistence, their first stop is the public library.

The Hopewell Memorial Library, as a plaque next to the front door informs them it's called, is a large brick Colonial with big windows in front that make the main room airy and bright. Duro leads the way up to the desk, Agron a few steps behind. The guy behind the desk is turned away from them at first, talking to a woman and writing call numbers on a slip of paper, so the first impression Agron has of him is dark hair pulled into a messy bun and a vest and button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up past the elbows.

Then the other woman leaves, and the librarian turns toward them with a welcoming smile and the most perfect features Agron has ever seen.

"Hi, can I help you?"

"Hi," Duro says with a friendly smile. "So, this might sound like a weird question, but do you have any good books on ghosts?"

The gorgeous librarian quirks an eyebrow, but otherwise takes the question in stride. "Well, that depends. Are you looking for anything specific? Fiction, nonfiction?"

"He thinks we inherited a haunted house," Agron puts in.

The librarian looks over at him with lively curiosity in his dark eyes. "...I see. Nonfiction, then." He looks over his shoulder and calls to a pretty blonde woman sitting at a computer. "Hey, Chadara, can you cover the desk for a bit?"

She gives him a little wave. "Sure thing, Nasir."

Nasir steps out from behind the desk and leads Agron and Duro over toward the stacks, glancing over his shoulder at them as they walk. "So, why don't you tell me a little more about this haunted house?"

Duro gives him a brief run-down of how they ended up in the house and what's been going on, and Nasir listens with interest, glancing over at Agron now and then.

"I take it you don't believe in all this?" he asks at one point.

"Well...no," Agron says. "Why, do you?"

Nasir shrugs. "I wouldn't say for sure that I believe in ghosts, but I wouldn't say for sure that I don't, either." He gives a little smile, and it's infectious, Agron can't help but smile back. "And right now it doesn't really matter what I believe, this is the most interesting question I've gotten all day. Here we go."

He stops in front of a section of bookshelves, looking over the titles.

"Now, I can't vouch for any of these myself," he says as he reaches for a book. "But I know of at least one practicing medium in Woodfall, and she gave a talk here last spring. I think I remember some names she mentioned."

Duro's eyebrows go up. "You know a medium?"

"Mm-hm," Nasir replies, still focused on the bookshelves. "I can put you in touch with her if you want."

"I don't think we're at that point yet," Agron says quickly, before Duro can say anything.

Nasir has a few books balanced in the crook of his arm by now; as he reaches for one more, the stack overbalances, and Agron automatically steps closer and grabs the books before they fall. Their arms brush as Agron takes the books, and Nasir looks up at him with a smile.

"Thanks."

"No problem," Agron says, returning the smile. He looks over at Duro, holding up the books. "Think this is enough for now?"

"Sure," Duro says, glancing between Agron and Nasir with a look that Agron knows means he's going to get teased later.

"So, either of you have a library card here?" Nasir asks as they head back toward the desk.

"Nope," Agron replies. "I'm guessing that means we can't check these out?"

"Sorry," Nasir says. "But I can hold them at the desk for you for a few days and let you take notes or make copies."

"Works for me," Duro says. "I don't think either of us is going to mind spending time here."

Agron resists the urge to step on his foot. "We don't want to take up too much of your time, though."

"It's no problem," Nasir says. "If there's anything else I can help you out with, just let me know."

"Actually, there was something else," Duro says. "We were hoping we might be able to find some information on this family who lived there around the turn of the century."

"We could look for records on them in the archives," Nasir says. "Fair warning, the head archivist can be...a little crotchety," Nasir says. "But my friend Mira works up there, too, she'll help us out."

Nasir takes them up to the third floor, which is where the archives are located. True to his word, the head archivist eyes them suspiciously and asks what they're looking for in a tone that suggests he'd rather they just go away. A woman with dark hair and freckles, who Agron figures is Mira, steps in and offers to handle them so that her boss can get back to the recent donations he was sorting through, and he acquiesces, still glancing at them mistrustfully as he goes back to his office.

"Don't mind Lucius," Mira informs them. "I love him, but he tends to act like everyone who comes in here is just waiting to leave food stains and bent corners all over our collection when he's not looking."

"I heard that, and you have yet to convince me they aren't," Lucius calls from the office.

Duro explains why they're at the library to Mira, who seems as interested as Nasir, and shows her the letter and the pictures they brought.

"We really don't know that much about them right now, so anything you might have on the family would be great."

Mira nods, looking over the letter. "I'll run a search on the names and see if anything comes up. And if they bought the house in 1901, I can look for an act of sale."

They swap emails so Mira can let them know if she finds anything, then head back down to the first floor. Nasir gives them a card with his full name--Nasir Ahmed--his work email, and the number for the desk.

"I'll see you guys back here soon, then," he says as they leave, sounding like he's genuinely looking forward to it.

Duro's smirking as they head outside and get in the car.

"Man, there are so many sexy librarian jokes I could make here that I'm not sure where to start."

"Fuck you," Agron replies automatically as he starts the car.

***

The next day, they end up back at the library, setting up shop at one of the tables in the front room. Duro pages through the books Nasir set aside, scribbling something in a notebook now and then, while Agron sits across from him with his laptop, more concerned with the practical side of things. He's making lists and looking stuff up, trying to get a clearer picture of exactly what they're getting into, and unsurprisingly owning a big house that's over a hundred years old is even more complicated than he already knew it was going to be.

"How's it going?" someone asks quietly from behind him, and Agron cranes his neck to see Nasir shelving books. His hair's down today, pulled back from his face and brushing his shoulders, which makes him, if possible, even more gorgeous than yesterday. He's looking at Agron with his eyebrows raised faintly, and Agron remembers he just asked a question.

"If anyone ever offers you a Victorian mansion that hasn't had any serious upkeep done on it in at least a decade--"

"And that's maybe haunted," Duro chimes in.

"--do yourself a favor and run in the other direction," Agron finishes.

"Sounds like maybe you could use a coffee break," Nasir says. "I was about to run across the street for some, if you want to come with?"

"Uh, yeah, that sounds good," Agron replies, smiling. "Duro?"

"You go ahead," Duro says, not looking up from his book. "I'm in the zone."

Agron snorts. "What zone would that be, exactly?"

Duro waves a hand dismissively at him. "Go get some coffee and stop trying to break my focus."

Agron and Nasir stop by the desk to let Chadara know Nasir's taking a break, then head across the street and a few doors down to a little cafe. It's still pretty warm out, enough that Nasir shrugs his sweater off as soon as they step outside, revealing a faded v-neck tee (and, for just a second, a tantalizing strip of bare stomach) underneath.

"So, can I ask you a question?" Nasir asks as they drink their coffee.

"Go ahead," Agron says.

"If you don't believe any of this ghost stuff, why are you still coming to the library with Duro?"

"Well, for one thing, the library has central air and wifi, and that's two things the house is lacking," Agron says. "But to tell the truth, I'd probably be here anyway. That's just how it is with Duro and I."

Nasir smiles. "You two seem really close."

"All our lives," Agron replies with a crooked grin. "If it wasn't him trailing after me because he couldn't stand to be left out, it was me following him around to make sure he didn't get himself into trouble, and at this point I don't think either of us would know what to do with ourselves without the other one around."

"You're older?" Nasir asks, and Agron nods. "I thought so. You seem like a big brother."

"What about you?" Agron asks. "Any siblings?"

"Just one," Nasir says, smiling at him. "An older brother."

Agron grins. "You guys close?"

Nasir shrugs. "Depends how you define close. We were always into different stuff growing up, and these days we don't see each other all that often. But he was always there for me when I needed my big brother, and I've tried to be there for him, too. We've got each other's backs, y'know?"

Agron nods, knocking the rim of his coffee cup against Nasir's gently. "Yeah, I know."

They head back across the street once their coffee's done, and Agron goes back to work for a while. He and Duro pack up around dinner time, and Duro brings the books Nasir pulled for him back to the desk.

"I think I'm done with these two," he says, separating them from the rest. "I'd like to look at the others some more, if you don't mind holding onto them a while longer?"

"Sure," Nasir says. "Anything else you guys need from me?"

"Not unless you want to go on a date with my brother," Duro says casually, and then "Ow," as Agron thwacks him in the back of the head.

Nasir looks surprised for a second, then looks over at Agron with just a hint of a smile. "Well, that depends. Does your brother want to go on a date with me?"

"Right now his brother wants to kill him," Agron says. "Nasir, I'm sorry, that was really inappropriate."

Nasir leans back against the desk, folding his arms. He looks like he's trying to school his face into a solemn expression, but the smile's still tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It was inappropriate, yes. But that doesn't answer the question."

"Um." Agron wasn't expecting that. "...If you want?"

Nasir just looks at him for a moment, his smile growing. "My shift tomorrow night ends at six. Why don't you meet me back here and we'll take it from there?"

Agron looks at him, feeling a surprised, pleased grin spread across his face. "I--yeah. I'll be here."

***

When Agron shows up at the library the next evening, he doesn't see Nasir. Chadara's at the desk, and she looks up at him and smiles.

"Hey. Nasir's back in the office, he'll be out in a second." She holds out a hand. "We haven't been formally introduced."

Agron shakes her hand. "Agron Jaeger. I'm the new guy in town who somehow has a date with a hot librarian I just met."

"Chadara Rubis," she replies with a winning smile. "I'm the one who'll be using my information-seeking skills to track you down if anything bad happens to him."

"Uh," Agron says. "Okay."

"She's said that to every guy I've gone out with since I started working here, don't worry about it," Nasir calls from the office, and then steps out. He looks casual-but-nice in skinny jeans, a button-down, and an unbuttoned cardigan, his long hair hanging over one shoulder in a braid. "Hi," he says with a smile.

"Hi," Agron replies, smiling back at him. "Ready to go?"

"So, I don't know if you're in the mood for anything specific," Nasir says as they walk outside, "but there's this diner I really like over on Mill Road."

"Lugo's?" Agron asks. "I've been there. I like it."

"Great," Nasir says.

It's a nice walk. The air is crisp and the neighborhood they walk with is picture-perfect, all gorgeous fall foliage and well-kept homes and pumpkins sitting out on doorsteps and porches, some already carved, some maybe waiting for Halloween to get a little closer. The diner's pretty crowded when they get there, Kore and another waitress dashing around. They both grin and wave at Nasir.

"Sit wherever you want," Kore calls to them. "One of us will be there in a sec."

They grab a table by the window, and a minute later the other waitress comes up. She barely looks old enough to be out of high school, and she bends down to give Nasir a quick hug.

"Hey, you. Been a while since we've seen you in here."

"Hey, Sibyl," Nasir says, kissing her cheek. "If pumpkin pancakes are back on the menu, I'll be here every day until Christmas to make up for it."

They order (Nasir gets the pancakes, while Agron goes for a burger), and as Sibyl heads back to the kitchen, Nasir looks over at Agron and smiles.

"So, tell me a little more about yourself."

"Well, I live in Baltimore now, but I grew up in Alexandria, Virginia," Agron tells him. "I blame that for the fact that I ended up studying architecture, I used to take the train into D.C. and wander around the National Mall all the time."

"Really? That's great," Nasir says. "I've been down that way a few times since I moved to Pennsylvania, but not as much as I'd like."

"Where are you from?" Agron asks him.

"Mostly San Francisco," Nasir tells him. "My family lived a few different places while I was growing up, but I was there for high school and undergrad, and my parents still live there. I did my MLIS at San Jose State."

"And how'd you go from there to a small town in Pennsylvania?" Agron asks.

Nasir gives a wry smile. "The joys of graduating into a shitty job market. I applied to any job I could find and pounced when I got an offer. It worked out really well, though, I love it here. I mean, small town life has its drawbacks, but I love the library and I've met some really amazing people."

"It seems like a pretty neat place so far," Agron agrees.

Nasir gives him a speculative look. "So do you think you might stay? Keep the house?"

"I don't know," Agron says thoughtfully. "It's a lot to think about even without the whole 'is it haunted, and if so what do we do about that' question."

"That's more open-minded than you've sounded about the possibility so far," Nasir points out. "Is Duro getting to you?"

Agron shrugs. "I don't know. Weird shit's been happening, I can't deny that. I'm still not in a hurry to accept ghosts as the explanation, though. I mean, you really think something like that's possible?"

It's Nasir's turn to shrug. "I really don't have strong views on it one way or the other. I've never had any kind of a paranormal experience, but I know more than a few people--and I'm talking about smart, sensible people, here--who say they have. And I think the universe is a big, weird place full of weird things, so for all I know ghosts are one of them."

The ghost stuff gets tabled for more typical first-date conversation after that. When their food arrives, they still do almost as much talking as eating, and by the time they leave the diner, it's well after dark and it's gotten a lot colder outside. Agron turns up the collar of his jacket and shoves his hands in his pockets, and Nasir pulls his sweater tighter around himself.

"So, can I walk you home?" Agron asks. "Or..."

Nasir looks over at him, head cocked to the side slightly. "Or?"

"We're actually not too far from the house right now," Agron points out. "If you maybe wanted to stop by and have a drink, see the possibly-haunted house for yourself."

There's a light on in the attic when they reach the house, which probably means Duro's been up there investigating some more.

"We've got company," Agron calls out as he opens the door. "Try to act normal."

Nasir steps in, looking around eagerly. "Oh, wow, this place is great."

Agron grins. "Yeah. It needs some work, but it's a good old house."

While Nasir wanders around the first floor looking at things, Agron goes to grab two beers from the fridge. "Duro, you want a beer?" he calls as he passes back through the foyer. "Duro?"

"Guess he's too far upstairs to hear you," Nasir says.

"I guess," Agron replies. "Most of the really neat stuff is up there, anyway, want to go find him?"

They head up the stairs, looking around and calling Duro's name periodically, but there's no sign of him until Agron rounds the corner onto the third floor. He sees Duro lying at the foot of the attic stairs, sprawled on his back, and Agron says his name again and then rushes over when he doesn't respond.

"Duro?" He shakes Duro's shoulder lightly and has to fight down a sharp surge of panic when he gets no response. "Duro, come on, wake up."

"Don't move him," he hears Nasir say from behind, and turns to see him holding his phone to his ear. A second later he starts talking to whoever's on the other end. "Hi, yeah, my friend and I just found his brother unconscious. Looks like he might have fallen down a flight of stairs."

He gives all the necessary information quickly and calmly, and Agron takes a moment to be intensely grateful Nasir's here before he focuses all his attention back on Duro, taking his hand gently and trying not to freak out too much.

They follow the ambulance in Agron's car, Nasir driving, and then a nurse asks Agron a lot of questions about Duro's medical history that he answers as well as he can, and then they pace anxiously in the waiting room for a while. Finally, a doctor comes out and tells them that Duro has a broken arm and some nasty bruises but no sign of more serious injuries, and Agron sinks down onto a hard plastic chair and lets out a breath it seems like he's been holding since they found him. Nasir's hand settles on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

The doctor gives him a moment to collect himself, a sympathetic look on her face, then goes on. "We'd like to keep him a little longer for observation, to be on the safe side. He's asking for you; we've given him some pretty hefty painkillers, but you can go in for a minute."

Agron goes with a nurse and finds Duro propped up in bed with a cast on his arm. He looks pretty out of it, but he smiles tiredly at Agron.

"Hey, bro."

"Hey," Agron replies, forcing a smile as he sits down next to the bed. "Can't leave you unsupervised for one night, huh?"

"You know me," Duro replies, and then his brow furrows. "Look, you're probably going to say this is the painkillers talking, but something happened in the house tonight."

"Well...yeah, something happened," Agron says.

"No, before I fell," Duro says. "I think I saw a ghost."

Agron sighs. "Duro--"

Duro lets out a noise of frustration, closing his eyes. "Just listen, okay? Even if you don't believe, will you just listen to me for once?"

"Yeah," Agron says contritely. "Yeah, okay, what happened?"

"I was up in the attic looking around," Duro begins. He's speaking slowly and starting to look more and more tired, but seems determined to get this out. "And I thought I saw a woman run past the door of the room I was in. I went out into the hall and saw her going toward the stairs, so I ran after her, but then she vanished. And then while I was standing at the top of the stairs, I just...started feeling really woozy all of a sudden. That's when I went over."

He lets his head fall back against the pillows, eyes closing again, and Agron reaches over and squeezes his hand.

"Okay, okay," he says. "We'll talk more when you're feeling better. Just get some rest for now."

He stays until he's sure Duro's asleep, then goes back out to the waiting room to find Nasir. He's talking quietly with the doctor, who touches his arm and smiles sympathetically at Agron before she leaves.

"How is he?" Nasir asks.

"Could be worse," Agron says. "Hell, I've seen him worse, but that's not helping me freak out any less."

He doesn't say anything about what Duro claims to have seen. He has no idea what to say. Even through the haze of painkillers, there'd been conviction in Duro's eyes that Agron can't deny, and he's not ready to think about what that means.

Nasir touches his shoulder again. "Naevia'll take good care of him."

Agron smiles faintly. "Is there anyone in town you don't know?"

"I don't know if you noticed, but it's not that big a town," Nasir teases, and then gives him a solemn look. "Look, I usually wouldn't make this offer on a first date, but then I haven't had a lot of first dates that ended in trips to the ER. Why don't you come crash at my place?"

Agron lifts his eyebrows in surprise. "Really?"

Nasir nods. "Whether it's all the ghost talk or Duro having an accident while he was in the house alone or both, I don't like the thought of you spending tonight there by yourself. And I'm guessing you might not be crazy about that idea, either?"

Agron hadn't thought that far ahead, but...no. Very much no. "I--yeah. Thanks. That's really awesome of you."

He's suddenly acutely aware of how alone he and Duro are in Woodfall. He could call home and talk to his mom and dad, but he doesn't want to freak them out. Aside from Duro, Nasir is actually the person he knows best in the whole town right now.

Nasir drives them to his apartment, which is the top story of a Victorian that's both smaller and better maintained than Agron and Duro's. It's cozy, full of warm colors and furniture that looks like a mix of Ikea and flea market, and there are books piled haphazardly on nearly every flat surface.

Agron stands in the living room, looking around, while Nasir makes tea in the tiny kitchen. "I have to say, this isn't really what I was expecting for a librarian's apartment. I mean, lots of books, sure, but--"

"You thought I'd have them all neatly shelved in Dewey call number order?" Nasir asks, sounding amused. "I have to keep everything organized at work. I'm off the clock here." He emerges from the kitchen with two steaming mugs, hands one to Agron, and gestures toward the couch. "Come sit down."

Agron sits down and sips his tea, which turns out to be peppermint. It's nice. While he's not nearly as freaked out as he was an hour ago, he still wasn't exactly calm when they got here. Sitting on Nasir's shabby, comfortable couch and sipping tea helps him settle, bit by bit. Nasir sits down next to him, cupping his mug in both hands, and offers a faint smile.

"So, before the whole medical emergency thing, I'd say this date was going pretty well."

Agron ducks his head, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "Yeah, it was," he says. "We should try it again sometime and see if it ends better."

Nasir reaches out and touches one of Agron's hands gently, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. "I think I'd like that."

Their eyes meet, and the moment catches and holds, the quiet between them heavy but not uncomfortable. Then Nasir looks away, squeezes Agron's hand, and stands. "I'll go get you a blanket and a pillow."

***

They're at a ball, and Clara's dancing.

Of course she is. She loves dancing, and she always has a full card at every party they go to. Agnes dances far less often; she isn't graceful like Clara, and she always feels terribly awkward talking to young men. She would much prefer to stay home with her books or her knitting, but Clara always begs her to come, says she wants her sister there with her, and Agnes can never deny her anything.

As she sits near the wall and watches Clara dance, a young man approaches and speaks to her. Agnes looks up, seeming surprised, and they speak for a few moments before he holds out a hand, and she rises and places her hand in his.

Agron sees all of this like he's watching a movie with the sound turned down. He can't hear what anyone is saying, can't hear the music the dancers are moving to. But he somehow knows all these things about what he's seeing, or more correctly, he feels them; how out of place Agnes feels in the middle of this glittering society crowd, how much she would rather be home, and the deep fondness for her younger sister that makes it all worth it.

He watches Agnes dancing with the young man, still awkward, but clearly flattered and charmed by him. Then the picture shifts suddenly, and it's a scene that's been in Agron's dreams before, of Clara sitting in the garden with a young man--the same man who was just dancing with Agnes, he realizes. He's looking down on them from above, through an open window.

Then he sees Agnes rushing down the attic hallway, and then it's not Agnes, it's Duro standing at the top of the stairs and swaying like he's about to faint. Then suddenly it's not an outside point-of-view anymore, it's Agron himself looking down the stairs as his vision swims and he tries to steady himself, letting out a shout as he overbalances and starts tumbling down.

"Agron? Agron!"

Agron jerks awake to a voice in his ear and a hand on his shoulder, and realizes after a second that it's Nasir, that's he's on Nasir's shabby couch in Nasir's cozy apartment. He's sweating all over, but he's cold, much colder than it seems like he should be.

"Hey," he says thickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine," Nasir says, and squeezes onto the edge of the couch, pressed against Agron's hip. Agron shifts to accommodate him, turning onto his side. "Are you okay?"

Agron swallows hard and nods. "Yeah. Yeah, just a bad dream."

Nasir reaches for his hand; his eyes widen and he puts his other hand to Agron's face. "Shit, you're freezing."

Nasir's hands on his skin seem almost feverishly warm, and without thinking Agron closes his eyes and leans into the touch. Nasir cups his cheek gently and squeezes his hand. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asks softly.

Agron sighs. Part of him still doesn't want to talk about what's going on--like talking about it is admitting that it's really happening--but part of him wants to make that admission, wants Nasir's help in figuring it out.

He pushes himself into a sitting position and reaches up to take Nasir's other hand in his. "I was dreaming about the Foster sisters," he says in a low voice, and then, even quieter, "And Duro thinks he saw one of them."

Nasir curls his hands around Agron's, rubbing them until they start to warm up. "Okay," he says, a look of focused concentration in his eyes. "Tell me about it?"

Agron relates what Duro told him, then describes his dream. Nasir listens without interrupting, still holding his hands.

"I can explain it all away," Agron says at the end. "I can say that Duro was confused after his accident and didn't really see what he thinks he saw. I can say that my dream was just the research we've been doing and what happened to him getting mixed up in my mind. But he seemed so sure, and the way I felt when I woke up...I don't know. I don't know what to think anymore."

"I'm not sure what to think, either," Nasir says, and squeezes his hands. "We'll figure it out."

Agron looks up at him, smiling faintly. "Thank you. For everything you're doing. We don't even know each other that well, and I have no idea how I'd be coping with this without you."

Nasir returns the smile, shrugging. "Maybe I don't know you that well, but I know if it were me lying in the hospital and my brother in your position, I'd hope someone would help him. And I know this is one of the most fascinating things I've ever been involved in. Duro getting hurt makes it scarier, but it also makes me feel like I can't turn my back on you now." He ducks his head, smile growing. "And I know I've liked you since we met. You think I go out with every library patron who asks me?"

"Hey, I didn't ask you," Agron points out. He tries for a joking tone, though it falls a little flat.

"Still," Nasir says, looking back up at him. "I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't have a good feeling about you. And obviously you've got a lot on your plate right now, and I don't want to push you into anything--"

Agron sits up, freeing one of his hands to lift it to Nasir's cheek, and Nasir falls silent, looking at him with his lips parted slightly. Agron leans forward, and Nasir's eyes hold his for a moment and then drop to Agron's mouth just before their lips meet.

The kiss is soft and gentle, but Agron feels it like an electric shock all the way down to his toes. Nasir shifts closer to him, reaching to brace one hand against the arm of the couch, and puts his other hand on Agron's shoulder. Still cupping his cheek, Agron brings his other hand to Nasir's waist, fingers rubbing against the soft fabric of the t-shirt he's wearing.

Nasir tilts his head and parts his lips slightly, and Agron takes that as an invitation to deepen the kiss, pressing forward and tracing Nasir's lower lip with his tongue. Nasir makes a soft, pleased noise, so Agron keeps kissing him. His fingers curl around to where Nasir's shirt rides up in the back and slip under the hem, pressing against warm skin.

Eventually Nasir breaks the kiss, tipping his forehead against Agron's. Agron moves his hand back and up into Nasir's unbound hair, fingers tangling in the thick, soft strands.

"You're right that this probably isn't the best time for me to be starting anything," Agron says softly. "But...right now I just want to be close to you. Can we just go with that for now?"

"Okay," Nasir replies, just as soft. He shifts to stretch out along the edge of the couch, and Agron lies back down and wraps an arm around him. Nasir's small enough and the couch is big enough that they fit pretty well, Nasir pressed against Agron's side with his head on Agron's shoulder and one arm stretched across Agron's middle.

Agron wraps both arms around Nasir's shoulders, tilting his face down to breath in the scent of his hair. It feels ridiculously good to have Nasir in his arms, Nasir's warmth against him driving the last of the cold away, and Agron closes his eyes and lets himself sink back into slumber.

***

When Agron wakes up the second time, it's daylight and he's alone on the couch. He can smell coffee brewing and hear Nasir moving around in the kitchen, and it sounds like he's talking to someone on the phone.

Agron reaches for his own phone, lying on the coffee table, and sees a missed call and a voicemail. It's Mira from the archives, saying she couldn't get hold of Duro but she's found something she thinks they should see.

He gets up and goes into the kitchen, where he finds Nasir leaning against the counter drinking coffee. Agron walks over slowly, not wanting to assume anything, but Nasir smiles and stretches up to kiss him gently.

"Hey. Want some coffee?"

"Coffee sounds good," Agron says. "So, I got a call from Mira."

"Yeah, I just talked to her," Nasir says as he pours Agron a cup. "I thought maybe instead of going to the library, we could meet her at Lugo's and see what she's got? I figure it might be easier to take on the supernatural with a good breakfast."

"Works for me," Agron says.

They stop off at the house so Agron can brush his teeth and change his clothes, then head to the diner. Mira's already there, a manila folder sitting on the table in front of her.

"Nasir told me about Duro's accident," she says to Agron. "I'm sorry to hear about it."

Agron nods. "Thanks."

"And in light of what happened to him, I apologize in advance for what I'm about to show you, but I think you ought to see it," Mira goes on, pulling a photocopy out of the folder. "It's an obituary for Agnes Foster, dated August 1910. She...she fell down the attic stairs and broke her neck."

Agron feels a chill run down his spine, but while it's jarring, it's not really a surprise. The noises that sounded like someone falling, Duro's accident and his dream--it all fits together too fucking well, as much as he wishes it didn't.

"Fuck," he whispers, and feels Nasir's hand come to rest gently on his knee under the table. The touch steadies him, and he takes a deep breath and then reaches for the copy, looking it over when Mira hands it to him. "She was twenty years old," he says softly.

"There's also this," Mira says, producing another sheet of paper. "Three months before Agnes died, there was an announcement of her engagement to a Thomas Milburn."

Agron takes that sheet from her as well, with a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knows what he's about to see. Sure enough, there's an engagement photo with the newspaper article, and Thomas Milburn is the man he's seen twice now in his dreams. A man he's certain he's never seen any pictures of, never seen at all while he was awake, until now.

He swallows hard, then asks in a low voice, "Nasir? Remember when you said there's a medium in town, and I said I didn't think we were at that point yet?"

***

They're finishing up breakfast when Duro calls to say Naevia's cleared him to leave the hospital. Nasir makes a call on the way over there, and they pick up Duro and his brand-new arm cast and then head across town, filling Duro in on the way.

"Wait, so the guy you saw with Clara was Agnes's fiance?" Duro asks. "Do you think there was something going on between them?"

"I don't know," Agron says. "They were just sitting and talking, but I could kind of tell Agnes was upset about it. And in my dream it seemed like it was right before Agnes died. I don't know if it really happened that way, but if it did..."

"You don't think she threw herself down on purpose, do you?" Nasir asks, brow furrowed.

Agron hesitates. "I can't be sure, but I don't think so. At least, I didn't get the feeling she meant to do anything like that. Could be she just took the stairs too fast and tripped."

Nasir directs them to a small, neat house on a tree-lined street, and when the door opens after they knock, Agron blinks. "Sergeant Nakos?"

"Agron, Duro," Nakos says with a nod and a faint smile. "Nasir. Come on in. Sura's out in the backyard."

They follow him through the house and into a yard with a small patio and a well-tended garden. There's a woman kneeling on the ground with gardening tools laid out next to her; when they come out, she stands and tugs off her gloves.

"Hi," she says with a welcoming smile. "I'm Sura. Nasir tells me you two have a problem I might be able to help you with."

She's not what Agron would have expected a medium to look like, possibly because his idea of what mediums look like is heavily influenced by Zelda Rubinstein in the Poltergeist movies. She's dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved flannel shirt over a tank top, with no jewelry but a wedding ring and a small silver pendant and her hair pulled back into a ponytail. As unassuming as her appearance is, there's something arresting about her--when she looks at Agron she seems to be looking straight into his core, her eyes deep blue and too old for her face somehow.

Agron and Duro introduce themselves, and Sura shakes their hands and gestures to a wrought-iron table and chairs on the patio. "I thought we'd sit out here--there's only so many warm days left in the year, I like to take advantage of them. Want some tea?"

Sergeant Nakos gets dispatched inside to bring out the tea tray, and passes the cups around when he returns. When he hands Duro his, Duro says "Thanks, Sergeant," and he smiles.

"People who sit in my backyard drinking tea get to call me Spartacus," he says.

"Tell me what's been happening," Sura says once they all have cups.

Duro starts off, and after he explains about his fall Agron takes over, telling Sura about his dreams and what Mira showed him this morning. When he's finished, Sura nods.

"I can definitely see why you got in touch with me. If you'd like, I can go to the house and see if I get anything."

"If?" Agron echoes, and she smiles.

"It depends on a lot of things. Why the spirit's there, whether or not it wants to talk to me, or sometimes just the mood it's in. From what you've described, it does sound like whatever's there, whether it's Agnes Foster or not, wants to make some sort of contact with somebody."

"Did you ever hear about anything happening there before?" Duro asks. "We never heard anything from the last owner, and we can't exactly ask him now. I mean, unless you can seánce him up or something."

Sura's smile widens. "I have to say, in almost a decade of being a practicing medium, that's the first time I've ever been asked if I can 'seánce someone up'. I probably can't, by the way--the vast majority of people who die don't hang around as ghosts. And no, I've never heard of any paranormal activity there. Which could mean that your uncle experienced things but never told anyone about it, or something's been stirred up recently, maybe by the presence of new people in the house or you two going through the things left behind there."

Duro nods. "Makes sense."

Agron snorts before he can think better of it. "As much as any of this does. Sorry," he adds quickly, looking over at Sura. "I don't mean to disrespect what you do, it's just..."

She nods, studying him calmly. "All of this can be hard to come to terms with, I know. You're not going to offend me by being skeptical, Agron. You reached out to me, and I'll help you if I can."

"Thank you," Agron says. "When can you come to the house?"

"Today, if that works for you," Sura says. "I have some other things to do first, but I can meet you there later."

They trade contact information and finish their tea, and Agron helps Spartacus carry everything into the kitchen.

"I used to be fairly skeptical myself," Spartacus comments as he's putting things in the dishwasher. "When Sura and I met, I didn't believe in...a lot of things, really."

"And now you do?" Agron asks.

"After five years living with her, I can't not." Spartacus straightens up and leans against the counter, a look on his face that's both thoughtful and fond. "We'd just barely started dating when she told me she'd dreamed about me before we met. I thought it was some kind of joke at first, I mean, the most incredible girl I've ever met telling me I'm literally the man of her dreams? And it was always like that--she never hid anything about herself, and if I wanted to be with her I had to take the whole package. So I did. And now, after all the things I've seen her do...I don't know about anyone else out there who claims to be a medium, but I believe in her, and I always will."

***

"Can you drop me at my place?" Nasir asks when they leave the Nakos's. "I'd stay with you and see how it goes with Sura, but I have a shift on the desk soon."

Agron nods and turns in that direction, swallowing his disappointment that Nasir won't be with them. He always has been the type to get attached quickly, and he reminds himself sternly that Nasir's not some sort of human security blanket.

He walks Nasir to the door when they drop him off, and Nasir pauses, taking his hand.

"I'll call you later," he says, looking up at Agron with faint concern in his eyes. "Both of you be careful, okay?"

"Okay," Agron says with a smile. He leans down, meaning to kiss the top of Nasir's head, but Nasir tilts his head up and curls a hand around the back of Agron's neck, pulling him down into a deep, lingering kiss.

When the kiss breaks, Agron just stands there with a big dopey grin on his face while Nasir goes inside, then gets back in the car and glances over at Duro.

"Shut up," he says before Duro even opens his mouth.

"Why yes, Agron, I was right when I said you should go for it with the hot librarian as well as being completely and totally right about the house being haunted," Duro says cheerfully, and then holds up a hand. "No, no need to apologize, I'm just glad you're man enough to admit you were wrong." He pauses, head cocked to the side as if listening to something, then adds, "Aww, that's so sweet of you to say! You're my favorite brother, too."

"Don't think I won't kick your ass just because you have a cast on," Agron informs him, trying to sound menacing even though he still hasn't managed to wipe the smile off his face.

***

They're both a little wary when they get back to the house, but things seem uneventful there for the moment. Sura arrives a few hours later, and they lead her up to the attic.

Agron holds onto the banister tightly as he goes up the steps, and notes that the others do as well. Sura pauses at the top of the stairs, catching her breath as if she's had a shock, and closes her eyes.

"There's definitely something here," she says. "I'm getting a lot of emotional energy--anger, sadness--"

She lifts one hand to the pendant around her neck, fiddling with it absently, and walks forward with her eyes still closed. "Agnes Foster? Agnes, are you here?"

A sharp gust of wind goes through the hallway, and Agron doesn't bother wondering if there's a window open somewhere. He and Duro stand off to one side watching Sura, who stands there calmly as the wind ruffles her bangs and flutters her sleeves.

"Agnes, we want to help you, if we can," she says. "If there's something you want to tell us, we're listening."

The wind intensifies, and doors start banging shut and then swinging open again. Agron hears noise from the room closest to him and glances in, careful not to get too close to the door; photographs and papers are swirling around in the air like there's a miniature tornado in the room.

"Uh, guys? I don't think she's very happy with us," he says.

"I know you're angry, Agnes," Sura says in a low, soothing tone. "I would be, too. I know you died suddenly while you were still very young, and I know you were going to get married. Is that why you're still here? Are you still not ready to let go?"

All the doors slam shut at once, and there's sounds of breaking glass and something heavy toppling over.

"Shit," Agron says. "Sura, maybe we should call time on this."

Sura opens her eyes, but doesn't move aside from that, standing firm in the middle of the hallway. There's a loud crash from one of the rooms, but she doesn't even flinch. "We want to help you, Agnes," she repeats. "What do you want? What is it you need to be able to rest?"

That sets off another flurry of activity, banging and rattling from every corner of the attic while the wind howls around them. Then, only a few seconds later, everything stops.

Sura waits another few moments, head tilted like she's listening for something, and then nods. "Okay. Let's go downstairs."

They go all the way down to the first floor and into the kitchen, which always seems to Agron like the most solidly normal part of the house. Sura braces her hands on the island and takes a deep breath, and Agron notices she looks a little pale.

"Are you okay? Duro asks. "Do you want a glass of water or something?"

She smiles faintly. "I wouldn't say no to something a little stronger."

Agron smiles and gets her a beer. "So...was that definitely Agnes? Could you tell?"

"It's hard to be certain, especially when I can't get a spirit to communicate with me clearly," Sura says. "But I think it was. Actually, it's more accurate to say I feel like it was."

"Did you get any answer about what she wants?" Duro asks.

Sura shakes her head. "No. I didn't get any kind of clear intent, just anger and hurt. Everything that's been happening here...it seems to me like it's all been Agnes lashing out because she's in pain."

"Not that I don't sympathize with her tragic story and all, but how do we get her to stop?" Agron asks.

"I really wish I could tell you," Sura says, and then looks over at him with her sharp, clear gaze. "Honestly, I feel like the two of you might be in a better position to figure that out than I am."

Agron blinks. "Us? How?"

"You two coming here seems to be what stirred her up," Sura points out. "Duro's seen her. You've been dreaming about her. Maybe the reason I couldn't get a clear answer up there is that I'm not the one she wants to talk to."

"Well, that's just fucking great," Agron growls, pacing a little in agitation. "Maybe if she wants something from us, she should find a way of communicating with us that doesn't involve sending my brother down a fucking flight of stairs."

Sura lets out a sigh, her shoulders dropping. "I wish I had something more helpful to tell you," she says. "Unfortunately, being a medium doesn't mean I have all the answers."

"Thank you for doing what you can," Duro says.

After Sura leaves, they go into the parlor. Agron sinks down onto the musty velvet couch in there and Duro sits next to him.

"Maybe there's something we haven't found yet that'll help us figure it out," Duro says. "Something in the attic or the archives."

Agron raises a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "And maybe we should just lock the place up and go home."

Duro looks over at him solemnly. "Is that really what you want to do?"

Agron looks away. "Nasir and I have been on one date. Don't make it into something it's not."

"I wasn't just talking about Nasir, but since you brought it up, he's awesome and he's into you and if you just walk away from that, you're an idiot. But I know you don't want to walk away from the town or the house either, any more than I do. And we need to help Agnes, if we can."

"Why?" Agron asks truculently. "Why should we help her after what she did to you?"

"We don't know that she made me fall on purpose," Duro counters. "Even if she did, I'm all right--"

"And you could just as easily not have been--"

"--And frankly, if I were in her position, I might want to push someone down the stairs, too. Agron, she died over a century ago and she still can't rest. We can't just leave her here."

Agron's reluctant to admit it, but Duro's right. As angry as he is over what happened to his brother, he's literally seen things from Agnes's point of view, and the thought of leaving her to stay stuck in the house for who knows how long doesn't sit well with him.

And Duro's also right about him not wanting to leave for other reasons. As short a time as they've spent in Woodfall, he can already see a whole future here; working on the house with Duro and turning it into a home, getting to know the town and the people in it better, spending more time with Nasir and seeing if this thing between them goes anywhere. He doesn't want to walk away from all that, not without at least trying to fight for it.

"Okay," he says. "I still don't know what the fuck we're going to do, but fuck it, let's give it a shot."

"Yes!" Duro exclaims, fist-pumping with his good arm. "That's my big bro."

Nasir call when he gets off work, and shows up a little later with pizza from what he says is the best place in town. They sit around the kitchen table to eat, and Agron and Duro fill Nasir in on what happened with Sura.

"And you haven't been back up to the attic since she left?" Nasir asks.

"No," Agron says. "We should probably at least go see what the damage is, but I'm not exactly in a hurry to go back up there."

"I'll go up with you, if you want," Nasir says.

Duro stays downstairs at Agron's insistence. He rolls his eyes, but Agron feels better with him down there. It's not just for Duro's safety, either--in case anything happens while they're up there, it seems like a good idea to have at least one of them out of the danger zone.

Agron hesitates at the foot of the attic stairs, and feels Nasir's hand slip into his. He looks over and Nasir gives him an encouraging smile. Agron smiles back, squeezing his hand, and they start up the steps together.

Everything seems quiet in the attic hallway, so Agron pushes open the door to the first room he comes to. All the furniture in it has been knocked over and the window is shattered. The room across the hall is where they've been keeping cleaning stuff they brought up; it's also a mess in there, but he picks his way through and finds a broom and a dustpan.

Room-by-room, he and Nasir right the furniture, sweep up the glass and board up the windows, and get anything that's broken into a pile. Agron stands for a long moment in the room with all the pictures and papers, now strewn all over the place, some of them torn or bent. He and Duro have done a lot of work since they got here getting this stuff organized.

Nasir comes up behind him, putting a hand on his back. "Why don't we take some of this downstairs and start putting it back in order? I'll help."

"You don't have to," Agron says.

"I know," Nasir replies simply, and bends to start scooping up photographs.

An hour later, they're downstairs in the parlor surrounded by piles of stuff. Duro went to bed a little while ago, but Agron and Nasir are still sorting.

"I love going through old stuff like this," Nasir says as they work. "I'd say if you really want help, you should get Mira in here, but some of this stuff might wander off if you let her at it."

"Hey, if you think the archive might really want some of this, they're welcome to it," Agron says. "I mean, a lot of it is from people Duro and I have no connection to, better it be in the library than our attic."

Nasir picks up a color photograph, looking at the writing and date on the back. "Is this your family?"

Agron looks over at what he's holding and smiles. "Oh, yeah, those are from a family reunion when I was about ten. Duro and I are over...here," he says, pointing, and Nasir follows the path of his finger and then grins. "Yep. I had a big growth spurt that year, but I stayed all gangly like that until I started lifting weights in high school. It was an awkward time."

"I think you were adorable," Nasir says, looking up at him. He has a gorgeous smile, wide and bright, eyes crinkling at the corners, and Agron's leaning in almost before he realizes what he's doing, like Nasir has some kind of magnetic pull on him.

He can still feel a hint of a smile on Nasir's lips when their mouths meet, and Nasir's eyelashes brush his cheek as his eyes flutter closed. Agron lifts a hand to the side of Nasir's neck, thumb tracing the line of his jaw, and Nasir shifts closer to him on the floor, their knees bumping in the process. The kiss deepens after a moment, Nasir's tongue teasing Agron's mouth open, and they kiss and kiss until both of them are flushed and breathless.

Agron pulls back enough to look at Nasir, smiling crookedly. "I'm not doing a very good job of not starting anything, am I?"

"I'm not exactly helping," Nasir replies, and leans in again, hands sliding up Agron's arms to rest on his shoulders. Agron brings his hands down, one curving around Nasir's waist and the other pressing against the small of his back, and it's a while before they come up for air again.

When Nasir finally draws back, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks the time. "It's getting pretty late. I should probably go."

Agron lifts a hand and tucks Nasir's hair back behind his ear. "You could stay, if you want," he says softly.

"Mm, sleepover in a haunted house, tempting," Nasir replies teasingly, but he looks like he actually is tempted. He leans close and murmurs, "I'll take a rain check on that," before pressing a swift kiss to Agron's lips.

"Your loss." Agron stands, reaching a hand down to help Nasir up. "Want me to drive you home?"

"I'll be fine walking," Nasir says. They walk to the door together and when Agron holds an arm out, Nasir slides both arms around his waist and hugs him tight. "'Night, Agron."

Agron squeezes Nasir's shoulders and smoothes a hand over his hair before letting him go. "Goodnight."

***

Agron wakes up to a noise in his ear that sounds distinctly like a woman crying. He blinks and reaches for his phone on the nightstand, squinting against the brightness of the display. It's almost four in the morning.

He sits up, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly, and then hears the crying sound again. It's so close it's like whoever's making it is standing right over his shoulder, and he looks around reflexively but isn't surprised when he doesn't see anything.

Agron gets out of bed and slips out of his room and down the hall. Duro's door is slightly ajar and there's a light on, but Agron's soft knock gets no answer. He pushes the door open and finds Duro lying on his back, broken arm resting carefully on his chest. The lamp on the nightstand is on and Duro's laptop is open on the bed next to him; he probably fell asleep looking at one of his dumb paranormal investigation sites. Which Agron guesses he really shouldn't be calling dumb anymore.

The crying echoes in Agron's ear again, and he takes a few steps into the room. "Duro," he half-whispers. "You hear that?"

Duro stirs, but doesn't open his eyes. "Wha--?" he mumbles.

"Never mind," Agron says. He crosses to the bed and picks up the laptop, closing it and setting it on the nightstand, then grabs the covers where they're bunched up by the foot of the bed and pulls them up to Duro's waist. "Go back to sleep."

Duro grabs the covers and pulls them up further, nestling into his pillow. "Mmkay."

Agron's halfway up the attic stairs before it occurs to him that he's not afraid. He's alert, and very aware that he's dealing with things he doesn't understand and didn't think existed until yesterday, but he's not afraid. He can't explain it any more than he can explain any of this, he just doesn't feel like he's in any danger.

When he gets to the attic he sits down on the top of the stairs, elbows braced on his knees.

"Agnes?" he says softly. "Are you there?" Nothing but silence greets his words. "If you want to tell me something, you can. I don't know if you can talk to me, like, with words, or if you want to, but if you do I'll listen."

More silence, then the crying again, soft but heart-wrenching sobs. Agron swallows hard, looking down at the bottom of the stairs. The image of Duro lying there is still nauseatingly clear in his mind, but now he finds himself picturing Agnes there as well, her neck twisted at an angle it shouldn't be, twenty years old and never going to see her wedding day.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I know I was angry about what happened to Duro--fuck, I still am--but I'm so sorry about what happened to you. And if there's some way I can help you, I want to. I just don't know how."

He doesn't hear anything else after that, no more crying, which he hopes is a good sign. Maybe he was able to give Agnes some comfort, if nothing else. Not knowing what else to do, he goes back downstairs and back to bed.

The next time he wakes up it's several hours later, but still pretty dark out thanks to a thick layer of dark gray clouds, the kind that look like one hell of a storm just waiting to happen. Agron shuffles downstairs and makes coffee, drinking it slowly and staring into space. His phone rings, and he perks up a little when he sees Nasir's name on the display.

"Hey," Nasir says when he answers. "How are you?"

"Better now that I'm talking to you," Agron says, and then winces. "That sounded less corny in my head."

Nasir laughs softly. "Not that corny. And in that case, I'm glad I called."

Agron smiles. "So, what's up?"

"Mira and I think we might have a lead on something," Nasir says. "Can you and Duro meet us in the archives in, say, an hour?"

"Sure."

An hour later, he and Duro pull into the library parking lot. A gust of wind blows Agron's hair back from his forehead as he gets out of the car, and he glances up at the sky, which still looks ominous.

Mira and Nasir are waiting for them upstairs. Just the way Nasir smiles at Agron when they walk in makes Agron's stomach flip over.

"So, what have you got?" Duro asks.

"Something about Clara's name was nagging at me, so I did some more digging," Mira says. "Turns out, a couple of years after Agnes's death, she married a man named Richard Hopewell."

Agron raises his eyebrows. "As in Hopewell Memorial Library?"

Nasir nods. "And Hopewell Auditorium, and the Hopewell Wing of the Woodfall History Museum, and a bunch more. At least a third of the civic buildings in town were either built by them or used to be Hopewell family property."

"And while their history of philanthropy goes back to the early nineteenth century, a lot of the big stuff, including donating this building to the public library system, was done by Richard and Clara," Mira goes on. "Which, in addition to being very nice of them, means we have a bunch of their personal papers archived here."

"Sweet!" Duro says. "Maybe we can find something useful there."

"Could be," Nasir agrees, a smile growing on his face. "Something like, say, private diaries Clara kept dating back to her childhood."

With a matching smile, Mira holds up a slim cloth-bound volume from behind her back. "Including one in particular that seems to cover most of 1910."

"Oh, man, I could kiss you," Agron says. "Well, one of you. No offense, Mira."

"You're not my type," she tells him with a grin, and holds out the journal. "Come on, we figured we should wait for you guys to read it and I want to know what's in there."

Agron takes the journal, the cloth cover soft and worn against his hand. They all crowd around Mira's desk, and he opens it carefully, flipping through until he finds August. The first few entries seem unremarkable--there's an occasional mention of "A" or "T", presumably Agnes and Thomas, but all pretty innocuous as far as he can tell. He keeps paging through, getting closer and closer to Agnes' death.

The innocuous entries go on up to a few days before the date given on Agnes's obituary, and then Agron turns another page and finds the obit itself pasted into the journal, Agnes staring out at him from the faded, yellowed newsprint. It was clipped and pasted with fastidious precision, no ragged edges or wrinkles in the paper, but there are places where it looks like the print smeared and ran a little, as if Clara was crying while she did it.

He turns the page to find an entry dated about a week later, and his eyes widen as he scans it.

"Shit," he says. "Guys, I think we've got something here."

***

Agron calls Sura from the library, and she asks if he can come over.

"Can I take this out of here?" he asks Mira when he gets off the phone, holding the journal up.

"I can," Mira says, reaching for her jacket. "Just let me tell Lucius I'm going."

Nasir heads toward the elevator with them, and Agron glances over at him. "You're coming, too?"

"You need to ask?" Nasir replies, and Agron grins and reaches for his hand.

They drive over to the Nakos's and Agron shows Sura the journal entry. She reads it in silence, skimming gently over the page with her fingers.

"I guess we know what happened, then," she says in a low voice. "Unless Clara felt the need to lie about it in a private journal entry."

"I think this could be what we need," Agron says. "If Agnes died not knowing the truth, and we told her--do you think that would be enough for her to be at peace?"

Sura looks at him, head cocked to the side. "Do you?"

Agron wants to protest that he doesn't know, that she's the one who's supposed to know about this stuff, but after the events of the past few days, he knows that wouldn't be honest.

"I do," he says. "This all still seems fucking crazy to me, but…" he pauses, running a hand through his hair. "But I can't pretend I don't feel a connection to her, and what it tells me is that Agnes loved her sister more than anything, that there was nothing she wouldn't do for her." He glances at Duro, smiling faintly as their eyes meet. "I guess maybe it's not so weird that she and I have a connection, after all."

Duro puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, and Agron looks back at Sura. "So if she thought Clara betrayed her...I can imagine how angry and hurt she must have been," he goes on. "And then dying suddenly without being able to resolve that…yeah, I think that could be why she's never been able to let go."

Sura nods with an approving look. "I think you could be right. It's worth a try, anyway."

***

The five of them pile into Agron's car, and he drives back to the house. They're on the way there when the storm breaks with little warning, just a loud clap of thunder and then pouring rain seconds afterward. Mira tucks the journal carefully into her purse, and they dash from the driveway to the house and stand in the foyer dripping and shivering.

"Shit," Duro says, struggling out of his jacket. "Anyone mind if I go change before my cast gets any wetter?"

"That's not a bad idea," Agron says, taking his hoodie off and wringing it out. He glances at Nasir, Mira, and Sura. "Don't think I can help any of you guys out in the pants department, but you're welcome to dry shirts, if you want."

They troop upstairs and find clothes for everyone; Sura and Mira go down the hall to change in the bathroom, while Nasir gestures toward Agron's room and asks, "Okay if I…?"

"Oh, sure, come on in," Agron says, stepping back to let him through the door.

Agron turns his back as he pulls his shirt over his head, but he can't resist glancing over his shoulder. He finds Nasir doing the same, and they both laugh sheepishly.

Nasir's more muscular than Agron would have guessed under his cardigans and button downs, and there's a tattoo of a bird in flight between his shoulder blades and another of Arabic script along the cut of his hip, just visible above his jeans. His hair's curling more than usual, clinging to his face and hair in damp tendrils, and Agron wants to touch him maybe more than he wants to breathe.

Nasir lowers his eyes, smiling crookedly. "If we're going to go do ghost stuff, you should probably stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Agron has a dry t-shirt in his hand, but he drops it on the bed as he steps closer to Nasir.

"And put a shirt on, would you? Walking around like that is just...irresponsible."

"Yeah?" Agron steps closer and reaches out, hands settling on Nasir's hips. "What are you gonna do if I don't?"

He bends down, but Nasir braces his hands on Agron's arms and leans back, making him work for it. Their lips brush, but just when Agron's about to deepen the kiss there's a knock on the door and Mira calls out "So are we doing this, or would you two rather have some alone time?"

Agron sighs, leaning his forehead against Nasir's. "When this is over…"

Nasir reaches up to cup Agron's face in his hands presses a tiny kiss to his mouth. "Let's hope we're close to getting there."

Agron puts on the shirt he grabbed, and Nasir shrugs into the sweater Agron gave him. It's an old blue cable-knit Agron's had since college, and it hangs almost to Nasir's knees, the sleeves engulfing his hands. They go back out into the hall and Mira hands Agron the journal and Nasir a towel for his hair.

"Okay," Agron says. "Everyone ready to go talk to a ghost?"

Nasir and Sura both nod.

"No, but lead on," Mira says.

"Let's do it," Duro says eagerly.

"All right," Agron says, and heads for the stairs.

They go up in single file, Agron in the lead with Sura right behind, and fan out in the attic hallway when they get there.

"Agnes, are you here?" Agron asks, and glances at Sura, who closes her eyes for a moment and then nods. "There's something we think you need to hear. It's from Clara's journal."

At the mention of Clara's name, the doors and windows start rattling, not as intensely as the other night, but enough of a reminder to be unsettling. Agron swallows hard and keeps talking.

"After you--after you died, your parents sent Clara to stay with family in New York for a while. And then--well, I'll let her say it." He opens the journal to the page he marked with the little ribbon attached to the spine, and reads.

"'Thomas took the train down and came to see me today. It was the first time I've seen him since the funeral, and I pray it shall be the last. I had thought my refusal in the garden that awful day would put an end to his advances, and I certainly never thought he would have the gall to renew them after what happened…he actually suggested that we ought to seek comfort with each other, and it was all I could do to keep from slapping him!

I wish I could simply forget everything that happened that day, but the scene plays out in my mind over and over. Thomas said that I had encouraged his attentions, and looking back on my own actions I can see, as much as it shames me, how it might have seemed I did. It seemed harmless flirtation at the time, and I certainly never imagined he would think me in earnest. How could he have thought I would betray my dear Agnes, my sister, for a mere dalliance?'"

As Agron reads, he hears the rattling get worse, and swears he can feel the floorboards start to shift ominously beneath his feet. Until he reads that last part, and all at once everything goes still, leaving no sound but his voice and the rain still pouring down outside. He goes on.

"'And then anger turns to guilt and dread when I remember the moment I thought I saw Agnes at the window above, so soon before her fall. If the shock of seeing us played any role in it--the thought is too awful to contemplate, yet I cannot banish it from my mind. If she had only stayed a moment longer she would have seen me push him away...but "if only" can do me no good now. Agnes is gone, and I must go on without her, and try to live my life in a way that would make her proud.'"

His eyes are still focused on the page, but he hears Nasir's breath catch and Duro say his name softly. He looks up and almost drops the journal. About three feet in front of him is a pale, luminous form. It has no features he can make out, but from the outline it looks like a woman.

Agron holds the journal out toward her like an offering. "Clara never betrayed you. She never would have. She loved you."

Duro moves forward until he's standing shoulder to shoulder with Agron. "And what she said at the end there--I think she did that," he says. "She became a philanthropist. She did a lot of good things. I think that was the kind of life she thought would make you proud."

The shape reaches out toward the journal, glowing fingertips resting lightly on the page.

"She loved you," Duro says softly, echoing Agron's words. "You were her big sister."

The glowing shape moves forward suddenly, straight towards them. Agron flinches, closing his eyes, but all he feels is a slight rush of air. It's a little cold, but it also feels fresh and clean, like opening a window to an autumn breeze.

When he opens his eyes, Agnes is gone.

"Is that it?" Duro asks after a moment. "Is she, like, gone gone?"

"I can't feel her anymore," Sura says. "I'd give it a few days, but if none of the phenomena you've experienced continue, she's probably gone for good."

Agron draws in a breath and lets it out, then turns toward Duro at the exact moment Duro turns toward him. They hug tightly, Duro's face smushed into Agron's shoulder.

"We did it," Duro murmurs, and Agron says "Yeah," and squeezes him tight.

***

No one says much as they head back downstairs. Agron hands the journal back to Mira, who takes it almost distractedly, a solemn, thoughtful look on her face.

"Thanks," she says. "I should get this back to the archives."

"I'll drive you back," Agron offers. "And Sura, I'll drive you home--Nasir, you going back to the library, too?"

"It's my day off, actually," Nasir says, and looks up at Agron with a faint smile. "Wouldn't say no to a ride home."

The unspoken invitation in his eyes is clear, and it sends a shiver of want through Agron's whole body. He glances over at Duro. "You gonna be okay here on your own for a while?"

Duro leans back against the banister, smiling crookedly. "Fine. I don't think there's anything here to be worried about anymore."

***

By the time they get to Nasir's apartment, the downpour has tapered off but the rain's still falling steadily. Agron parks out front, and Nasir's hand covers his while it's still resting on the gear shift.

"We don't have to--I mean, whatever you want," Nasir says.

Agron turns his hand over under Nasir's, gripping tightly. "I want you," he replies in a low voice. "I think this is what I need right now."

Nasir smiles at him. "Okay."

They dash through the rain to the front door, and Nasir fumbles with his keys and swears under his breath when it takes him a minute to get the door open. He grabs Agron's hand again as they get inside, and Agron follows him up the stairs and into his apartment. They're barely through the door when Nasir turns, raising his hands to Agron's shoulders and stretching up to kiss him.

Agron wraps his hands around Nasir's waist and pulls him closer, and Nasir presses against him eagerly, running his hands up to cup Agron's face. Agron pulls back just enough to change the angle and then they're kissing again, fierce and hot and searching. Their hips press together, and Agron slides one hand around to cup Nasir's ass through his jeans, rubbing against him. Nasir breaks the kiss and ducks his head, panting against Agron's neck for a moment and then kissing the underside of his jaw.

Agron slides his hands up under the blue sweater--his sweater on Nasir with nothing else, not even an undershirt between the fabric and his warm skin, and somehow that's the most brain-meltingly sexy thing Agron can think of at the moment--and Nasir lifts his arms to let Agron pull it over his head. He tugs at Agron's t-shirt a moment later and Agron shrugs it off, leaving them both bare to the waist.

"Fuck," Nasir breathes, running his hands over Agron's shoulders and biceps. "Is it just me, or does it feel like we've been waiting, like, five years to do this and not a few days?"

"It's been a fucking long couple of days," Agron replies, hooking his fingers in Nasir's belt loops to pull him close again. They kiss for a few moments, and then Nasir steps back and takes Agron's hand again.

"Bedroom," he says simply, and leads the way, kicking off his shoes as he goes. Agron follows suit, and when they step into the bedroom he moves up close and tugs Nasir back against him, dropping his mouth to the side of Nasir's neck. Nasir reaches back and runs his fingers through Agron's hair. Agron tilts his head down, pressing his face into Nasir's shoulder and inhaling deeply. Nasir's other hand lands on Agron's arm where it's wrapped around his waist, and they stay like that for a long moment.

Nasir pulls away and leads Agron over to the bed, which takes up most of the floorspace in the small room. Standing by the foot, he reaches for Agron's fly, eyes flicking up in a silent question that Agron confirms with a quick nod. Nasir undoes Agron's jeans and pushes them down, leaving his boxers on for now. With his hands on Agron's hips, he leans up for another kiss, and Agron cups Nasir's face in his hands, stroking his thumbs along Nasir's cheekbones.

He moves backward, sitting down on the edge of the bed when the mattress hits his legs. He spreads his knees and Nasir moves to stand between them; Agron leans forward and kisses his chest as he reaches for his fly. Nasir's hands curl into his hair, and when Agron looks up at him, he smiles.

"Hi," Nasir says softly, smoothing Agron's hair back.

"Hi," Agron replies, smiling up at him.

"I'm really glad you're here," Nasir tells him.

"It's mutual," Agron says, and tugs at Nasir's hips. "C'mere."

He scoots back on the bed and Nasir settles next to him, their legs tangling. Agron wraps his arms around Nasir's waist as Nasir leans down to kiss him, gently at first, then deeper. He slides his hands over Nasir's back and up into his hair, tongue exploring the inside of his mouth. Nasir moves his hands over Agron's chest and stomach, humming softly into the kiss.

After a few minutes Nasir pulls back, hair falling around his face as he pushes up on his elbow to look at Agron and murmurs, "Do you want to fuck me?"

The question sends a surge of heat through Agron, and he runs his hand back down the length of Nasir's spine to his lower back, pressing their hips together. "Fuck, yes."

Nasir grins wickedly and rolls onto his back, shimmying out of his briefs. Agron shoves his boxers down and kicks them away, swearing when they get tangled around his feet for a second. Nasir laughs at him, then twists to the side, opening his nightstand drawer. He rummages inside for a moment, then rolls back toward Agron.

"Get me ready?" he asks softly, pressing lube and a condom into Agron's hand.

Agron nods and takes the lube, settling between Nasir's legs. He slicks up two fingers and reaches back behind Nasir's balls, probing gently. Nasir's thighs tense slightly, and Agron hears his breath catch.

"Okay?" Agron murmurs.

"Yeah," Nasir says quickly. "Been a while."

Agron leans forward to kiss him, sliding one finger in. He goes slow, opening Nasir up gently until Nasir is breathing heavily and pushing back against his hand. Agron scissors his fingers and Nasir moans sharply, hips arching off the bed. He grabs Agron by the back of his neck and pulls him down into a fierce kiss, teeth grazing his lower lip.

"Okay?" Agron asks again, and when Nasir pants "yes, yes, fuck--" against his mouth, he pulls his fingers out and reaches for the condom. He fumbles with the wrapper and makes himself slow down, rolling the condom down over his cock carefully. He looks around for the lube, but Nasir's already got it, squirting some into his palm and wrapping his hand around Agron's cock.

"Fuck, fuck," Agron chants, thrusting into his grip as Nasir strokes him firmly. "Nasir--"

Nasir lets go and scoots back so that he's half on the pillows, lifting his hips. "Come on."

Agron slides his hands under Nasir's thighs, spreading them and kneeling in between. He frees one hand to hold the base of his cock, guiding himself, and sinks into Nasir in one slow, smooth motion.

Nasir makes an incredible noise, back arching. His hands go to Agron's hips, clutching at him, and he's biting his lip until Agron leans down for a kiss. Agron kisses him soft and gentle, holding his hips still, giving Nasir time to adjust. After a few moments, Nasir's hands tighten on Agron's hips, and he pulls back far enough to meet his eyes, breath coming hot and unsteady against Agron's face.

"Come on," he says again, and Agron braces himself with one hand on the mattress and thrusts gently, drawing another moan from Nasir. He angles his head to the side and trails kisses down Nasir's neck, sucks a red mark into the skin at the base of his throat while he moves his hips in slow, steady rolls.

"Fuck, you feel so amazing," he murmurs against Nasir's skin, resting his forehead in the curve of Nasir's neck and shoulder. Nasir moves against him and slides his hands over Agron's back, one pressing between his shoulder blades and the other running up into his hair.

"I thought about this," he whispers, lips brushing Agron's temple. "That night you slept here, before I woke you up? I kept thinking about you lying out there and wishing you were in here with me instead."

"Yeah?" Agron pushes in hard, drawing a moan from Nasir. "Did you think about having me inside you?"

"Yeah," Nasir replies, his voice rough. "It's better than I imagined. You--fuck, Agron--"

Keeping one hand braced on the bed, Agron works his other hand between their bodies and wraps it around Nasir's cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts. He can feel himself getting close, and he wants to make Nasir come first. He keeps stroking, rubbing his thumb over the head of Nasir's cock, and Nasir moans and swears, clutching at Agron and pushing frantically into his hand. He comes hard, shuddering all over and clenching around Agron's cock, and Agron thrusts a few more times before he follows Nasir over the edge, chanting his name and kissing wherever he can reach.

They lie still for a long moment afterward, no sound in the room but heavy breathing and the patter of the rain outside. Finally Agron stirs, kissing Nasir softly and then pulling away. He goes into the bathroom, deals with the condom and comes back with a damp washcloth. They get cleaned up and then nestle back down in bed together, Nasir pulling his duvet up around them.

Agron slides his arms around Nasir's waist, turned on his side to face him. "I'm staying," he says softly.

Nasir smiles warmly, reaching out to cup Agron's cheek. "I'm assuming you mean in Woodfall and not just in my bed? Not that I'd object to the latter."

Agron grins. "Yeah. I'm gonna keep the house and fix it up. Duro, too, I know he doesn't want to leave." It's been in the back of his mind since they left the attic. They could sell the house with a clear conscience now, but Agron finds he can't imagine giving it up, not anymore.

"Good." Nasir leans forward to kiss him, then pulls back with a teasing grin. "You sure small-town life isn't going to be too dull for you with no ghosts around?"

"I'm pretty sure I'll be able to find ways to keep things interesting," Agron replies, sliding one hand around to Nasir's hip.

Nasir snuggles closer, nuzzling against Agron's shoulder. "What about right now, can you stay for a while?"

Agron wraps Nasir up in his arms, pressing his face into his hair and breathing in deeply. "Oh, I'm staying right here until you kick me out."

"Good," Nasir says again.

***

Agron leaves Baltimore as early as he can on Halloween. It's a perfect late October afternoon, the sky a crisp, clear blue, the weather breezy but not too cold.

He put in his notice at work the day he and Duro got back from Woodfall, but he's still finishing out his time there. He's been spending weekdays in Baltimore, working and packing, and weekends in Woodfall, starting the work on the house, spending time with Nasir, and looking for a job there. Duro's been staying in the house full-time, working at Lugo's.

By the time Agron gets to Woodfall, there are already some kids and parents out trick-or-treating. He pulls into the drive just as one group is heading away from the house, smiling and waving in response to one little girl's enthusiastic "Happy Halloween!" as he gets out of the car.

They don't have much up in the way of decorations--some orange lights and fake cobwebs, a jack-o-lantern on the porch--but the house looks kind of perfect for Halloween anyway, standing in disrepair against the backdrop of the sunset. Next year, Agron thinks, it'll be in better shape, and they can go all-out with decorating.

He heads up to the door and knocks, and Nasir answers. He's wearing a Dracula cape and a black silk waistcoat over a crisp white shirt and balancing a bowl of candy on one hip.

"Trick or treat," Agron says.

Nasir smiles, showing off the plastic fangs over his canines. "You're supposed to be in costume."

"I'm in costume as a guy who hasn't seen his boyfriend in five days, now get over here." Agron grabs him by the waist and tugs him close, and Nasir cups his face in one hand and stretches up to kiss him. Agron grins when he pulls back. "Is it weird if I say the fangs are kind of doing it for me?"

"Okay, I didn't need to hear that, like, ever." Duro's voice comes from the stairs, and Agron looks over to see him coming downstairs with some sick zombie makeup on. "And you better have a costume, or I'm not hanging out with you tonight, you know the rules."

"Of course I have a costume," Agron replies, rolling his eyes. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a fedora, beating it back into shape and putting it on.

"Seriously?" Duro asks. "Weren't you Indiana Jones just a couple years ago?"

Agron holds up a finger. "One: Indiana Jones is awesome. Two: you've been a zombie how many times?"

"Yeah, but my zombie look keeps evolving, it's a continual work in progress."

Nasir laughs. "If you two are done bickering--Duro, want to take over on candy duty for a while?"

Nasir hands off the bowl and he and Agron head upstairs. As soon as they make the second floor hallway, Nasir grabs Agron by the back of the neck and pulls him down for a kiss, longer and deeper than the one at the door.

"Don't think we're not going to be revisiting that remark about the fangs later," he says when he lets go.

Agron grins, heading into his room to put on the rest of his costume. "Thanks for coming over to help with the trick-or-treaters."

"Are you kidding?" Nasir asks, following him into the bedroom. "I never get them at my apartment, and this place is perfect for it."

"It really kind of is," Agron says. "I was thinking outside about how hopefully we'll have it more fixed-up by this time next year--maybe we can have a party here."

"That'd be great," Nasir says. "Speaking of parties, Chadara's having one tonight and I promised we'd stop by. And the theater downtown always shows old horror movies all night on Halloween, so maybe we can do that later, if you want."

"That sounds perfect." Agron finishes lacing his boots and stands. He shrugs on his jacket and then turns to reach for Nasir. "But really, as long as we get to spend tonight together, I'm down for anything."

Nasir smiles, sliding his arms around Agron's waist and leaning into him.

It's a while before they make their way back down. When they finally do, Agron pauses at the foot of the stairs. There's an end table there, and since the last time Agron was here Duro's set two framed pictures on it. One's the two of them at Duro's college graduation, and sitting next to it is a picture of Agnes and Clara, that first one they found in the attic.

"Oh, yeah, I was gonna tell you about that," Duro says, coming up next to him. "We don't have to keep it there, I mean, if you think it's weird."

"No," Agron says in a low voice. He reaches out and brushes one finger against the surface of the picture. "No, it's good."

Duro bumps his arm against Agron's gently. "I figured we should have something to remember them by," he says. "Not that I thought we were likely to forget."

Agron nods and bumps him back, and they stand together in silence for a moment before Duro says, "So. I'm going to the kitchen for a candy refill. Hold down the fort for a minute?"

Agron goes to the front door, where Nasir's exclaiming over some kids' costumes. As they head off, Agron comes up behind Nasir and wraps his arms around Nasir's waist. Nasir leans into him, tilting his head back. "Hi."

"Hi," Agron replies, and kisses the top of his head. "It's good to be home."