#c lil

Somehow, Marcy always called during the worst moments. Regan had just plucked one of the remaining hermit crabs out of her lunch – a perfectly good sandwich – when her phone rang. The little bugger scuttled out of her hands and then out of sight as she answered the phone. But, as always, the calls were important. Marcy had someone to see her. Or more precisely, she had said: “There’s a next of kin here for you. She looks very sad. Not, like, emotionally, but as a person.” 

Regan sighed, scooped up her necklace, and tidied up her hair. So much for a lunch break. She never minded when a death scene interrupted her plans, but a next of kin? Couldn’t Rickers take them? She pushed through the double doors, scanning the lobby for whoever showed up in search of a deceased loved one. There was only one person there. Regan blinked at the young woman, who did indeed look pretty sad, but not in the tearful, distraught way one came to expect here. Most of the time, she was the one tracking down next of kin and calling them in. Very rarely did they take the initiative to check the morgue themself, unless they already knew about a loved one’s fate. 

Regan recalled her script. It sounded more forced and unfamiliar by the day, impossible to squeeze back into after years apart. Who was she to pretend to empathize, anymore? No one. She was no one. That was the point. Her tone ended up rote and bored. “I’m sorry for your loss, miss. What brings you here today? Can I ask who your loved one is? Their name, or identifying features – tattoos, birthmarks, any information you can provide?”

Lil didn’t want to do this. After all, she didn’t actually know if her family was gone. Still she couldn’t get it out of her head that they might just be stuck unclaimed in the morgue. It wouldn’t be right, and she couldn’t ask Jonas to come with her. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t call him immediately - but to ask him to do this now seemed selfish and unnecessarily hurtful. So she was resigned, at least a little bit to the fate of looking by herself. She figured that they wouldn’t necessarily know to contact Lil or Jonas if they found their family members. So she went in and softly but firmly that she wanted to see if her family members were there. 

So when the doctor came out Lil looked at the other, trying to remember what she had thought to say, having rehearsed to answer the questions. After all, she figured that they might fight her on going to look, saying that she shouldn’t go through other channels. Instead the doctor looked almost a little resigned - and not at all what she expected. Then again, Lil didn’t often look upset or personable in her job either. Working with the dead meant you had to keep your emotions at bay - even if it was specifically hurtful. 

“I don’t actually know if they are there, but it’s my family. It would be four people.” Lil said realizing that her voice was much calmer than she felt saying it out loud. “They’ve been missing, and - no one checked here to see if they were here. My Uncle Charlie just told me that he hadn’t so I figured I would. Their names are June and Jacob Ballard. Those are my parents. My sister Jane and my sibling Jude might be here too.” Lil paused for a second and started to pull out papers out of her bag of photos of her family members. “I know they might look different now if they are with you, but I - figured these might be better than me explaining right? I also have a list of identifying features as well.” Pulling the paper she tried not to look too closely at the list again. She’d spent the sleepless night before writing down anything that could possibly be helpful. 

“I know you probably don’t do this, but I - wanted to see if you would check and see if they might be here since my brother and I weren’t contacted right when they went missing. I figured that maybe no one contacted you all either. I have paperwork that I’m related to all of them .” Lil said her eyes glancing at a picture of her mom - her throat closing slightly as she tried to shake the thought away. She wasn’t going to cry here. 

It’s my family. Three words chiseled away at the nice, comfortable wall Regan had built for herself. This wasn’t about a missing father or lost sibling, but an entire family, presumed dead. It wasn’t the first time Regan encountered such a tragedy, and it wouldn’t be the last, but it was surprising. What was more surprising was the composure the girl managed to keep so far, given the immeasurable loss. Regan now looked at her with focus and a hint of determination. It was because her interest had been piqued. Nothing more. She didn’t care – not about this woman, only the state of her deceased family and whether they had been recovered. How could she care about the delicate emotions of a human? 

“I see. So they’re missing.” Regan tapped her fingers to her lips, mentally flipping through her open case files to consider a potential fit. The girl had anticipated everything, it seemed, and even had a photograph to present to her. She crouched, making eye contact with the individuals in the photo – whether they were truly happy was up for interpretation, but they were certainly complete. A big, cohesive family. She shook her own ghosts away. They weren’t welcome here, anywhere. “Yes, they almost always look different when they’re with me. That’s something to prepare yourself for. Well, normally…” In this case, however, Regan didn’t think they looked familiar, even taking post-mortem changes into account. Beneath swollen faces and glossy eyes, none of her current decedents looked particularly like these individuals. Although, she did recognize one of them from elsewhere.

She thought she didn’t do that? Regan blinked, then nodded. “Of course I do that. I often have families come here to confirm identity. Or inquire. But… you came prepared to hear the worst. Most people only come prepared for good news. That our forms of identification are incorrect, or that their loved one made it to the hospital and not the morgue.” She shook her head. “But I’m not certain that matters here. I’m afraid I may not be able to help you.” Not like this, anyway. Given the extensive documentation, there still might be things she’d be able to do. If she were willing to risk her secrecy to help. 

The girl looked on the verge of tears. Regan steeled herself, knowing she had to be as unmoved as death itself. So she had a potentially dead family. So did many in this damned town. The girl could justify her own emotions to herself, and Regan didn’t fault her for them. But she would not participate in the sorrow. She couldn’t. Still, Regan understood that sometimes a lack of an answer was worse than staring down at your loved one as they were reeled out of the freezer. Things might have been about to get worse, more tense, more difficult to deny. “What is your name? I – there is one individual who may be worth your viewing. I suggest you do not get your hopes up – whatever that means for you, in this situation.”

Lil was used to being the person delivering bad news. After all, an exorcist was never called because something was going well. She had been witness to plenty of people’s worst days and while she tried not to let it make her miserable, it was hard to deny it. So she didn’t think the doctor’s business demeanor was wrong, she’d seen it plenty with the people she worked with, even if Lil herself tended to be the one that wanted to make the client smile or at least comfort them. It wasn’t for everyone. 

Lil nodded at the statement trying to regain her composure and not think too deeply at the moment. “I figured. I know that they won’t look the same if they are here.” Another uncomfortable truth about being an exorcist is that death - both the spiritual and physical remnants were something that Lil had to experience. It never exactly got easy for her, but there were some duties that you had to do. Death - like most things in her life -was an inevitable thing that she wasn’t exactly scared of in concept- even if she wanted badly to stave it away from her family. 

Lil shrugged slightly at the observation of the other considering that she was looking at the worst. “I figured I shouldn’t give myself false hope.” It was partially true - but there was something else there too. Lil knew worse fates then to end up here. If they ended up here that means that they weren’t lost and scared. It meant that they weren’t being used by demons or - god forbid having their souls used. It wasn’t a pleasant thing, and it would hurt Lil badly, but if they were here it meant that she could properly perform funeral rites. That’s all she really could ask for. 

At the news she might not be able to help, Lil looked down and nodded lightly, “Ah - I mean it’s okay if you can’t help. - ” Lil stopped as the other asked for her name and there was a spark in her eyes as she went for her license fishing it out of her pocket focused on the little task to not think about the rest, “Oh. My bad - my name is Lilian Ballard - I go by Lil. I have my identification if you need it.” 

At the information there was a body, part of Lil wanted to freeze up. She wanted to say that she was mistaken and that she didn’t need the other’s help after all  - but that second didn’t last long. Lil had known coming here that this was a possibility, and if it was one of her family members - if they were down in the morgue waiting for her to come collect them she had to do it. Her jaw setting slightly she nodded and said, “I won’t. I appreciate it. Can we go see them now or do I need to sign something?” Her voice was slightly hollow, but at least she hadn’t fallen overself with the potential news. 

“Most hope is false, Ms. Ballard.” It was something Regan suspected from a young age and a lesson that was solidified during her time at Saol Eile. Banshees did not hope. To hope was to question Fate. And though Regan didn’t believe in such notions, one thing had become clear: there was no use for hope when you were going to die, anyway, inevitably. And everyone was going to die. Hope was nothing more than a delusion for cowards to usher themselves through their pitiable lives. Regan constantly tried to press all hope out of herself, but she wasn’t good enough, strong enough, and every once in a while some managed to work its way inside of her. Today, that wouldn’t be the case. She wouldn’t hope one way or the other whether the decedent she was going to allow Lil to view was familiar to her or not. 

“So long as you understand that, please follow me.” Regan nodded toward the door, gesturing for Lil to follow her. She swiped herself in and led her down the narrow hallway, past the autopsy suite and into the morgue. “The decedent in question resembles your sister, Jane, but only somewhat.” The individual in the morgue didn’t have the same pixie cut Lil’s sister bore, but hair could change, and the height, ethnicity, age, and face shape were at least similar. “I recognize your brother, by the way. Not from my morgue. Jonas, correct?” She wondered how much more she could say. Jonas would probably tell Lil how that interaction went, regardless. She decided to simply proceed with the grim affair of confirming visual identity. “I’m going to trust that you’ve prepared yourself now, and won’t delay.” 

Regan traced the names along the freezers with her fingers until she found the Jane Doe she was looking for – she’d come in a couple of weeks ago, autopsy still pending in hopes of identifying her first. No signs of external trauma on the body, but that didn’t mean there were none inside. Regan unlocked the freezer and with a metallic thump that sounded all-too-loud in the quiet morgue, she slowly rolled the sliding bottom of the cadaver locker out so that Lil could view the body. She preferred to do this in the viewing room, but given that Lil came to her and seemed to be prepared to tolerate any answer, there was little reason to waste time arranging for something so superficial. “What do you think?” She eyed Lil, knowing the girl would probably be lost staring at the cadaver either way. “Do you know her?”

“You can call me Lil,” She said softly. After all Ms. Ballard was Jane not her. Still, she didn’t comment on the idea of most hope being false. It wasn’t exactly a new idea for Lil to be presented with, after all she heard a lot of different conflicting thoughts surrounding death. Some people held comfort in a great beyond and others insisted that there was nothing. It wasn’t something Lil dwelled on as - well frankly any answer would be cruel. To hope against the odds Lil saw, was worse than accepting what happened. She just wanted to know at the end of the day. “Okay,” Lil said simply, following the other wondering what exactly she should feel. There was bits of her that were tugging at the worst feelings that she knew - sadness, anger, rage, guilt - but they seemed a little dulled going towards the morgue. That was until she heard who Regan thought the other might be. Jane. It was a shock that Lil tried to hide in her face. Jane Ballard was a demonologist - so there was always a chance she could die - but Lil didn’t actually think it was possible. She was so strong and full of life that Lil couldn’t picture her dead with anything less than the Devil after her. She wasn’t sure who she thought might be laying here, but she hadn’t expected it to be her. At the question though Lil was brought back to the other and said even headed, “Oh yeah Jonas is my twin. He’s not missing though.” 

At the statement Lil nodded trying to keep herself calm and collected. After all, if it was Jane she wouldn’t want Lil to cry. She didn’t think she’d want Lil to cry. Although little bits of thoughts kept moving through her brain that made Lil sink bit by bit. If Jane was here, it meant they never got to move past what Jane had did. It meant that Lil would never get her big sister back - her hand itched as she moved through the room reminding her that Jane wanted her to be strong and knowing that she was not like her. She moved through the room with her ears ringing at words that sounded an awful lot like her sister. Lil come on - No don’t do that - Lil Lady if you don’t get back here -. She could almost hear her laugh as she picked Lil up to twirl her, and felt her hands in Lil’s hair as she braided her hair - something that she missed terribly even if she couldn’t say it. 

Closing her eyes for a second Lil counted to three letting go of memories as she looked at the body, her face blank as she looked at the person carefully. She could tell why the doctor had matched Jane to them and if Lil didn’t know her sister as well as she did she might have thought it was Jane. She could have been Jane, although her hair was longer. Death changed faces, and Lil knew better than anyone that fact. Moving closer, not at all afraid of the dead, she looked closely for a moment thinking what might push the identification over the edge. Jane had a small blue bird - one that Matched Jude’s on her shoulder bone. They had gotten that as Jonas and Lil had gotten a little black bird on their hips. 

“Is it okay if I move the cloth further down on her shoulders?” Lil asked the doctor her face as neutral as she could make it as she looked back. “I - don’t think this is Jane, but if she is Jane she would have a little blue bird on her shoulder. I wasn’t sure if I would be allowed to move the cloth.” Lil said mostly in explanation. She had no problem touching the dead - but she figured there was probably protocol, and she wanted to be respectful.  

Impressed by Lil’s readiness, Regan waited in silence and allowed the woman’s emotions to run through her. She was strong. She felt intensely, Regan could tell, but she controlled it better than most. What kind of a tool was she? What instrument? Or had she simply seen death enough times that she could approach it with such grace now? “You can’t move anything. I will.” Though Regan spoke with a firm, commanding edge, Regan tried to be gentle too. Slowly, she lifted her hand and looked at Lil. Checking to see if she was ready. The rolled cloth revealed… nothing. No tattoo. Just to be sure, Regan checked the other shoulder, too, which yielded the same result. “It’s not Jane, then.” Regan said with some finality. She studied Lil, trying to see if there was relief or disappointment or both. These moments often evoked a strange mix of emotions in people, which Regan could understand but no longer relate to. 

“It’s good that we checked,” she assured Lil, “sometimes ruling out an identity can help tremendously with an investigation. Mine, and… yours.” She chewed her lip for a moment and decided to re-cover the decedent and slide them back into the freezer. The force of it made a loud whoosh that felt out of place in such a silent room. “We’re done down here, but I don’t think we’re done. I would still like to assist… if I can.” Regan discarded her gloves and held open the door for Lil. The walk back would allow for some questions. “What does this mean for you? Are you assuming Jane is still alive?” And the rest of them? She wanted to ask. But it was best to focus only on one. The emotional weight of losing a whole family, even the thought of it, was a lot to bear, and Regan knew it. “Where are you going next?”

Lil nodded as Regan moved to move the cloth, Lil’s eyes still focused on the person who had died. As she realized the tattoo wasn’t there Lil wondered what she should have felt. It should have been a relief that the person laid in front of her wasn’t Jane - she was. She was glad that her sister might be alive, but it was still a possibility not a certainty. Jane was maybe alive. She could be somewhere worse then here - and Lil couldn’t do anything about it. So she did what she knew best, what Jacob had taught her. She shut down the emotion, and tried to focus on what she could do. After all, if Jane was out there she needed Lil to find her and quickly. Still, instinctually she rubbed at the back of her hand on the scar there, wondering if she could be steady enough to do all of this. 

“No they aren’t Jane,” Lil finally said softly as she readied herself to figure out her next move, looking at the doctor who seemed to be assessing her carefully. She wondered what she looked like. Probably odd, but it was all Lil could do to not feel the edges of despair that seemed to follow after her. She could let it swallow her up - no one was weak for breaking down over something like this - but she had a brother that needed her to be the strong one. There were people that needed her, as broken as this was going to make her, to be strong and keep it together. Even if it hurts - especially when it hurts. A Ballard Persists, and Lil was going to walk to the end with her head high. 

At the doctors words Lil nodded and said, “I’m glad if it could help you identify the person.” It was true, Lil had a strong want to make sure that everyone who passed away was seen and their wishes done. Part of that was selfish - unhappy people became poltergeists so easily - but much of it was a sympathy that was earnest. As she listened to the whoosh Lil prepared herself to move back from the room - when the doctor continued to speak. It felt - kind. Like the other had seen more than Lil had wanted to show and wanted to help. It wasn’t the warmth that most people expected, but it felt honest. So as she started walking back through the morgue Lil thought about it honestly. 

“I don’t think I can assume she’s alive or dead,”Lil said with a certainty she probably hadn’t earned. After all, it wasn’t odd for either scenario to be right. “If she’s alive, she’s in a dangerous position and needs help. If she’d dead - I need to find her in either case.” Her voice caught at the idea still - part of her now rebelling now that she knew that Jane wasn’t in the morgue. The little hope in her that wanted to be twirled around by her big sister again and hear her laugh. The part that wanted to hear her say ‘I’m sorry’ and start over. Still, Lil held the idea for a moment and let it go quickly. 

“I’m - probably going to go tell my brother that they aren’t here. I didn’t want to tell him until after I checked. Then I’m going to continue looking. - There’s been some clues so I’ll probably look back over them. I know that there are people that aren’t happy with them, so I’m going to start looking at this as something intentional.” After all, with everything Lil had done it was clear that they weren’t messing because of a haunt gone wrong. She would have found them by now. She had to consider the possibility that someone or a group was targeting them, and that the people following Jonas and her were involved. Part of her had thought this anyway, but now she was resigned to the fact. 

 Lil looked at the doctor for a second and nodded, “I know you're probably worried I’ll do something stupid - I won’t. My family is my responsibility and I have to make sure that they are found. Either way. But - if I leave my number would you be willing to tell me if you find anything? I don’t want to bug you by constantly checking in. ” 

This was one of those times where it was hard to discern defeat from relief, and Regan knew she couldn’t say anything to make it easier for Lil to distinguish between the two. She would need to sit with it. Probably every day, every night, until she found her answers. She was clearly driven, and though Regan rarely hoped for much of anything, not believing in the concept, she did want Lil to be able to receive closure. 

Regan slowed to a stop and turned to Lil in the hall. “I think it’s commendable you’re taking responsibility for your family. Trying to find them. Find answers.” She thought of Reilly, who hadn’t given up after six years, even though he really should have. If Lil was half as dogged as Regan’s brother, she would have success eventually. Regan believed that. She gave a nod and continued, but paused again right by the doors to the lobby. Once they pushed through them, they’d be in the presence of others – Marcy, and maybe some next of kin or other ME’s office employees buzzing around. There was some quick business to attend before that.

She met Lil’s eyes, which swam with thick emotion – Regan could identify it no more than Lil herself probably could. “Yes. You should leave your number. Look, I…” Regan started, already regretting it. She let the silence linger just as her thoughts were. But it felt right. “I won’t explain my methodology. It doesn’t matter. But I want to, um, offer something, of sorts. Because you don’t know whether they’re alive or dead.” Reilly told her, several times, that the uncertainty was the worst part. Not knowing if he’d lost his sister along with his father. Now that she was back, she didn’t have the heart to tell him that he had. “I might be able to help. If you have a belonging of one of theirs. Something especially important to them. I might be able to determine whether or not they’re deceased.” Or, by process of elimination, alive. 

Regan gave a small bow of her head and stepped away from the doors, motioning toward them. “When you’re ready, you can head out. I’m sure you have much to think about.”

Lil hadn’t expected that the other would be - proud of her for doing what was right. In her own mind it was the only thing she could do. Still, she couldn’t deny that it felt nice for someone agreeing with her and as she met the doctor's eyes she wondered if she had experienced something similar. Lil didn’t have a supernatural sense about these things, but she was around people usually on one of the worst days of their lives. It carried with you tragedy, and while Lil tried to make exorcism less depressing it was always something there. Still, she didn’t ask about it. Tragedies were personal, and she didn’t want to push kindness down a road that made the other miserable. “Glad you agree,” Lil said carefully, not wanting to thank Regan in so many terms but wanting to be grateful nonetheless. 

At how she continued Lil was confused with what she was saying, not knowing what she meant but listening carefully. After all, it wasn’t like anything else was really working out. Jude’s notebook was getting close to the end and while Lil would still try any leads she found she knew it was getting bleak. Even if she didn’t understand what help was or how, she did believe that Regan could help and that was enough.  “I - understand. That would be helpful at least to know. I would have to find something that was one of theirs -” Lil said, thinking of which person in her family she might be able to find something that was close enough to them that it would connect them. It wouldn’t be her dad. The only thing he’d ever connected himself to was his focal point and he was a pain about that. He thought it was a weakness to be exploited - after all objects could get you attached here. She also wasn’t sure about Jude or Jane either, both so different in personalities but so practical. 

Still, Lil paused for a moment and thought about her Mom. Her sentimental mom who always seemed to keep little things that made them smile. Surely if one of them was attached to an object it would be her. “I think I know something, but I’d have to find it. I would also have to tell my brother about it. I appreciate it.” It wasn’t hope exactly, it didn’t feel like something so fragile or beautiful. Instead it felt something more like a resignation to Fate - something closer to relief than panic. Her mom had been the source of feelings like that before, and maybe she could be again.