#ghost!harper

Even in death, old habits die hard. It’s what Ava told herself to justify what she was about to do, knowing full well what Jason would say.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this, Bekker…”

He wasn’t there, though. He didn’t see what Ava saw, he never could. As much as Jason wanted to understand her over-emotional attachment to things, he never would. He could warn her about the shadow people all he wanted. It wouldn’t change the fact that ignoring the scene in front of her would make her as heartless as the living chalked her up to be.

The emergency department was crawling with people, as loud and uncomfortable as Ava remembered. It wasn’t the bloodied faces of patients or screaming of grieving family that upset her that day, though. Instead it was the barely there figure crouching behind a privacy curtain, tiny blue socks just peeking through. Ava had watched the scene unfold merely by accident and she knew better than to interfere, yet something in her was screaming not to turn away.

“Hey, little one,” she tried to speak quietly, though her voice somehow rang out over the bustle of the ED. A tiny squeak told her she had been heard, though no words proceeded.

“Harper?” She remembered the name falling from Doctor Marcel’s lips like a broken promise all those months ago. She had watched the toddler follow her father around for weeks, just barely touching him before he slipped from her tiny grasp yet again. Jason never let her get involved, telling her they couldn’t interfere. It would only hurt the baby, risking her becoming trapped in the hospital just like they were. It was too late now, though. Ava couldn’t let the child’s spirit go, not after what she saw.

“P-papa,” her voice was shaky and Ava wondered if she had even used it after her death. She peeked through the curtain at the woman in front of her, Ava tried not to take it to heart when she cried out. The large wound in her neck was a shock to anyone, even without the blood, but to a baby it would be mortifying.

“Your papa is busy helping people now,” she said slowly, “Did you get scared, Harper?”

Blue eyes met hers again, chemo having robbed her of any eyelashes to catch her tears. Instead they slid freely down her cheeks as she nodded, clutching her stuffed animal tightly to her chest.

“I know it must have been scary…” Ava couldn’t help but think of her own childhood, the things she saw before she could tie her shoes would be enough to make a grown woman weep. She knew Harper went through an insurmountable pain before she was out of diapers, so being haunted by it in death was an injustice no one deserved.

“I’m Ava,” she added as an afterthought, “I can help you find a safer place to play, you can wait for your papa there.”

“Wanna see… see papa…”

“He’s working, darling, and this isn’t a good place for you to be. He’s helping people feel better, you know that?”

It took some more coaxing before Harper would come out from her hiding place. She did eventually, though, and Ava couldn’t help but be relieved. She didn’t know where she would take Harper or what would happen now that she spoke to her. All Ava knew was an ED after a shooting was no place for a toddler and she couldn’t let more trauma befall the kid.

Ava knew better, she really did, but that didn’t stop her from going to the ED. She promised herself it was just because she was bored, with no surgeries to watch in her OR for hours she felt her energy crackling like the campfires she would have with her friends back home. She needed stimulation and what better place to find something interesting than the emergency room.

The halls of Gaffney had finally begun to feel like a second home for Ava, no longer overwhelmed with the way her reality was slightly warped. She glided down the corridor comfortably now, slipping between nurses and watching as Doctor Charles shivered when she passed by him just a bit too closely. It was easy to forget how much she could still interact with the human world, especially with how much power she could feel just under her skin.

The ED was filled with life as always, yet it was also clouded by the weight of the other side. Ava had seen more spirits in this department than any other part of the hospital, somehow they all managed to come back to the emergency room even if they passed elsewhere. The wave of pain and fear that washed over her never failed to surprise Ava, though she had learned to ignore it for the sake of her stability.

There was one spirit she had trouble ignoring, though. One that always appeared like a little flash of blinding light. A pure soul, Jason had explained the light to her, someone who hadn’t done anything wrong in their life. It was near impossible to find a true pure soul, since most people had a couple sins under their belt by late childhood. This one was different, though, and Ava couldn’t seem to keep her attention on anything else as of late.

As chance would have it, she saw a flash of that light once again. She perched herself on a spare gurney, eyes tracking the man that the light always followed. Doctor Crockett Marcel, all southern drawl and confident eyes, seemed to be a pretty popular doctor since he showed up. Ava didn’t have a reason to hate him yet, though she didn’t really have a reason to like him either. She was more worried about his attachment, if she was being honest.

Eavesdropping wasn’t polite, she knew her mother would have chastised her for it even as a woman in her thirties. Still, it’s hard not to overhear everything when you’re a ghost stuck in a hospital whose walls hear everything. She had simply been floating around, trying to find something to do, and a familiar voice had caught her attention. It was Natalie Manning speaking to the new trauma surgeon, discussing something in hushed voices. Ava heard it all, though, and the story hadn’t left her mind since.

Harper had just turned one when the cancer took her, leukaemia ravaging her small body before intervention could help. Losing her had hurt Crockett far more than he let on, though Ava could feel it in the way his voice became guarded while speaking of his daughter. He wanted to protect her even in death, afraid that his memories could become tainted if in the wrong hands. Ava felt that way about her memories of Connor too, she knew it far too well.

After learning about Crockett’s daughter, Ava had trouble ignoring her. Jason said it was for the best, they shouldn’t interfere with a spirit attachment because it could harm the soul or leave them trapped. Especially for someone so young, telling Harper what was going on or why her dad didn’t pay her any mind would only damage her.

Still, she was only a baby and it hurt Ava to watch her like this. She was toddling after Crockett, watching him with big eyes as he instructed nurses to get labs and waved Will over to help with the transfer of a patient. She looked on the verge of tears, clutching onto a faded stuffed animal that seemed to resemble a rabbit. Wherever the trauma doctor went, so did his daughter, a little hand reaching out to grab the edge of his scrubs but always missing just by a thread.

It was heartbreaking, wishing she could just pick Harper up and hold her for a minute. Ava wasn’t necessarily a maternal person but she knew about sick kids, she knew they craved stability and just one good day. They never wanted to hurt and they always wanted comfort, especially from their family. She knew how hard this must be on the baby, stuck in an endless loop of trying to reach her father but missing him each time. Even as a ghost it would be so damaging to her psyche. Terminal cancer may be the worst part of being human, but the spirit world offered a never ending cycle of what if’s and pain.

“Ava, don’t do it.”

“She’s a baby, Jason.”

“She’s not your baby,” he said pointedly, materializing on the gurney to flank her right side. Ava rolled her eyes, annoyed at the way her friend always had a dramatic entrance in store.

“I know that,” Ava huffed before adding, “Don’t be an ass.”

“I didn’t do anything. You shouldn’t either, you know. Interacting with her will only make it worse.”

“She’s dead,” the blonde couldn’t tear her eyes away from where Harper stood against the wall and stared at a trauma patient her dad was working on. She looked terrified and it took all of Ava’s willpower to not let her energy go at the sight.

“So are you.”

“Yeah but I’m not a literal baby who died of terminal cancer,” she retorted, “We caused this for ourselves. She did not, she didn’t even have a chance to live.”

“And that sucks but there’s nothing we could do.”

“We could talk to her? Give her a real interaction so she doesn’t feel alone at least. The poor kid looks prettified, Jason.”

“It’s a bad idea,” he followed her gaze across the ED, “I know you care but you know-”

“Yeah yeah, the shadow people won’t like it and the hospital will react poorly if I get too upset or attached. I know, you’ve told me billions of times.”

“And yet you never listen.”

“Fuck, I hate this,” the spirit in question didn’t bother looking at her companion, knowing who was behind her before he even full appeared. Her and Jason had become pretty inseparable since her death, even if they did annoy the life out of each other. Something about their relationship had started to remind Ava of her relationship with Connor pre-romance, which hurt just as much as it soothed her broken heart.

“Rhodes isn’t here again, is he?”

“No.”

“Then what is it, Bekker?” Jason phased into her view, peeking over her shoulder through the ED window she had been staring through.

“New trauma doc,” she muttered, her faded hands repeatedly clenching and unclenching as she tried to contain her energy. Ava was a huge energy reservoir, the most powerful that Jason had seen in his time there, and it was a struggle for them all. She felt far too many emotions at once, a result of her near constant depersonalization while she was still alive. As a ghost one doesn’t have anything to depersonalize from, Ava realized quickly, and that meant everything hit her like a bus.

“Oh yeah, him. Doctor Marcel?”

“Couldn’t tell you,” Ava admitted, “I could not care less. But look.”

“At what?” Jason nudged her to the side so he could peer into the emergency room from a better angle. He saw the new doctor in question, talking to April Sexton about something, but that clearly wasn’t what was bugging Ava. Behind the man, clearly not visible to him or anyone around them, was another spirit.

The way Ava’s energy rippled with distress and stabbed at his own due to their proximity told Jason this was the problem. A new spirit was hard to adjust to but it was even worse when they hadn’t died at Gaffney, moving places in the in-between could be painful. That wasn’t the worst part, though.

“Look at her,” Ava’s eyes were still glued on the figure behind Doctor Marcel, “She’s a baby…”

“Can’t be older than two,” he agreed as they watched her toddle after the man she was clearly attached to. She was impossibly tiny, a baby blue hospital gown hanging off her emaciated form. With lips almost matching the shade of her outfit, the child looked more like a corpse than any baby should. Her hair was patchy, clearly just starting to fall out, and that gave them a pretty clear idea of what had killed her.

“Cancer,” Ava voiced what they were both thinking, “Or something autoimmune.”

“Poor kid, she probably has no clue why she’s here suddenly.”

“I hate this, Jason,” Ava’s hand had travelled to her throat, idly running over the unhealed wound that no longer bled. She did that when she was anxious, he had noticed, and he understood why. An attached spirit was difficult to get through to, since they came and went with whoever was their human host. The fact that she was a toddler complicated things, since the little ghost probably didn’t even know what being dead meant.

“Let’s just hope she can adjust,” he said slowly, “Don’t let yourself get upset again, Bekker. the shadow people can deal with it, we shouldn’t interfere.”

“She’s a baby,” the glare he received was harsh and Jason was slightly surprised by the anger in her tone, “There’s no way in hell I would trust them with an infant.”