How Brompton Cemetery started being considered ‘like a park’ Maggie didn’t know. Who looked at an old cemetery and thought ‘park’? Someone must have because it was managed by the Royal Parks. It didn’t really matter Maggie supposed as she walked along old Brompton Road after leaving west Brompton station. A green space was a green space, right? The station wasn’t too far from the cemetery and she was soon walking along the brick wall, glancing through the cut outs and cast iron gates. It looks pretty quiet in there, Maggie thought as she scanned the grounds. There was a bit of activity but they could be alive and it wasn’t as bad as Maggie thought it would be. I should have probably picked a newer cemetery, she thought, chewing on her bother lip. I can’t believe this is how I’m spending Father’s day.

Tramping through an old London Cemetery with a ghost of a man who wasn’t even her father. Which she was grateful for, certainly. Arthur Stonewall was alive and well in Toronto, Canada and having a lovely father’s day even if he was missing his only child Maggie. She had called earlier, as soon as she knew he would be awake and had a nice long chat. The rest of the day she had to unfortunately spend with Ilya but if the ghost knew it was father’s day or gave a shit, he didn’t show it.

For one stupid moment Maggie had picked up the phone and dialled Tadeas’ number, wondering if maybe he wanted to see his father or talk to or whatever before coming to her senses and ending that call before the second ring. The rest of the afternoon she had distracted herself with her laptop, researching, emailing, checking out that chat room Jacob had sent her the link to. Killing time until the rain of the afternoon let up and she could go out.

Here we are, Maggie thought with a glance at Ilya who looked about as happy as Maggie did to be here. Which was not at all. She still wasn’t sure this was a good idea but if she was going to learn how to deal with this power then she needed to be around the dead. London did have lots of dead people. The city was large and had a bloody history so Maggie had seen quite her share of ghosts walking through the streets but that was different. They were more spread out and with the living mixed with them and among them, it was easier to ignore the dead.

A cemetery was a place for the dead and while the living came to visit, the dead outnumbered the living here. Maggie took a deep, calming breath as she stood outside the gates. She liked it so much she took another and another until she was just wasting time at this point. I can do this. I can, she silently psyched herself up as she entered the cemetery. See, this isn’t so bad. It’s calm and the only dead guy I see is Ilya. I can do this.

So Maggie started walking deeper into the cemetery and deeper and deeper still. Everything was bright and green and wet thanks to the rain. Beautiful in the slowly setting sun and Maggie felt strangely at peace. At first. Slowly a feeling of being watched spread over her, making the hairs of her neck stand on edge. It grew stronger followed by a strange pulling feeling in the pit of her stomach and that should have been Maggie’s clue to turn around and walk out of the cemetery. Like an idiot, she kept going and went off the path to walk around some of the graves. They’re really pretty, she thought as she stopped to examine one ornately carved headstone. Morbid but pretty. She reached out to trace her finger along one name when something caught her eye.

What was that? Maggie glanced down at the ground. Oh gross, was it a bug? OH GOD! A ghostly hand suddenly shot up through the ground, scaring the shit out of Maggie and causing her to fall backward, landing on her ass. The hand was connected to arm that was connected to a body, all of which was climbing out of the grave....and it wasn’t the only one. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod. Maggie, who didn’t even believe in God was suddenly repeating that over and over as if it was a mantra that would protect her from the ghosts that had begun to swarm out of the graves. Out of the graves and coming at Maggie.

Regardless of what Victor claimed, Donnie was not crazy for picking Brompton as the place for them to meet. It quiet, mostly empty and probably the last place either of them would run into anyone they knew. Besides, it was close by to where Donnie was crashing lately. Ever since the blow up at Rania’s, Donnie had been couching surfing with any of his ‘friends’ who would take him in. A shady group who lived in shitty houses. Fuck I need to find a spot to live. Somewhere quiet that’s not a fucking slum.

He had a bit of money put away now thanks to extra work he had been getting as a delivery driver for Angel’s flowers and the extra fights but Donnie didn’t know where to look. Yeah, the classifieds were a good start but a lot of what Donnie had found was either out of his price range or total shit holes. The only way he’d be able to afford anything half decent was if he got a roommate but where was he going to get one of those?

Maybe I can dig one up, he thought sarcastically as he leaned against a tree and looked over the rows of graves. Aside from his living circumstances, Donnie was also worrying about this meet up with Victor. He had managed to get a bit of information on Ian McKinley but not much, not enough for what Victor was paying him. Vicky boy is gonna be pissed.

Normally that wouldn’t worry Donnie so much but after learning Victor was a mutant courtesy of Tadeas, Donnie was a little more wary. He couldn’t remember what exactly Kriz had said Victor’s power was and he vaguely remembered not being very impressed but he had been drinking a lot that night. It was very possible he might have heard it wrong and very possible that it might be something he should worry about.

For fuck’s sake, is he ever going to show? As far as he could see, no one was around but Donnie was completely oblivious to the fact that Maggie Stonewall was exploring the boneyard about twenty feet away behind the thicket of trees. It was Victor he was looking, not the redhead he knew from the flower shop yet after few minutes of impatiently waiting and tapping his foot against the pathway, Donnie decided to stretch and move away from the tree. That was when he noticed the woman, who he did recognize thanks to those vibrant red locks. Is that Maggie? What’s she doin’ here? Donnie opened his mouth to call to her when she tumbled backward.

Clumsy bird, he scoffed. Maggie was always knocking stuff over at the shop so seeing her fall flat on her ass wasn’t unusual but Donnie figured he might as well check to see if she was okay. “Alright there Maggie?” he called out as he walked up behind her and offered a hand up. “Jesus Christ!” She was as white a fucking sheet! “Are you alright Maggie?”

A dark haired young man stopped outside the gates of Brompton Cemetery with a look of pure arrogance as he regarded the brick and cast iron that border the outside. Out of all the things Victor Wellington could be doing tonight, meeting a man like Donnie Galloway in a place like this was not what he would have picked. Go in, get this over with and get the hell out, Victor thought as he entered. Already he had grown weary of this bullshit with Donnie and with no other repeat break ins or strangeness, Victor had once again grown comfortable. Did this McKinley even matter anymore? Frankly, Victor found it all a bit boring and he couldn’t stand boredom. I’ll end. Give Donnie his money and get this over with. Hopefully I’ll never have to deal with the little troll of a man from hereafter.

Stopping on the path, Victor turned his head and looked over the wide expansive cemetery. How am I going to find him in this place? What a waste of my time. It wasn’t just this that made Victor feel wasteful however, it was the whole damn summer semester. He was doing a few summer courses but otherwise his time was his own and Victor found he had nothing to fill it. His uncle Rupert had offered him a job but who wanted to spend the summer working? It wasn’t like Victor needed the money although he had to admit it would be nice to get some that was his own.

The rich man had no qualms about living off his father’s wealth but he had been thinking lately, there had to be a way to make his own money. The first step is to stop wasting it on idiots like Donnie. I could talk to Tad, he knows— Victor halted as he heard a voice calling out. Male, baritone, Scottish accent. There’s Donnie. Victor turned toward the direction it was coming from and spotted the lanky fighter. Who’s he talking to?

With quick, sure strides Victor moved across the overgrown grassy path and through a cluster of trees and neglected graves to see Donnie talking to a very frightened Maggie Stonewall. What is my old tutor doing here? “Donnie, Maggie? What are you doing?”

Those brown eyes were as wide as saucers as Maggie slumped on the ground and watched the people pass up through the dirt. Distantly she could hear Ilya speaking but Russian was the background noise of her life these days so Maggie didn’t pay him any mind. She couldn’t, not with every head in the cemetery turning toward her. They weren’t like Ilya, Charlotta, Ysabell or most of the other dead people Maggie had the misfortune of seeing. Those ghosts hadn’t looked dead, they had just looked like regular people...except they could walk through walls and the like. They hadn’t been blue or transparent like one saw in the movies and the only reason Maggie knew ghosts like Ilya were dead was because no one else could see them.

It wasn’t the same with the ghosts Brompton cemetery, not all of them. Not even most of them. These ghosts here were old and they looked it. It wasn’t just the decaying appearance or clothes telling Maggie this either, she could feel it like aching sensation in her bones. Her hands grasped the wet grass, digging in till she was holding clumps of dirt in her hands. Too much at one time, too many. They were all coming toward her now. Whispering, muttering, exchanging looks and glaring. Maggie swallowed and tried to scoot backward.

“Ah!” Maggie jerked her head too fast and got that god awful warm painful sensation flooding the back of her head and neck. Ow... fuck...ow ....is that Donnie? She had thought it was one of the ghosts and freaked inside thinking they knew her name but it was just Donnie, the occasional delivery guy from the flower shop. I know Donnie. What is he doing here? Dropping the clump of dirt and brushing her hand on her jean, Maggie reached up to let Donnie help her up. Just when a ghost decided to walk through the Scot.

“AH!” She dropped backdown painfully to her backside, shivering as the ghost passed through her. The dead were swarming now like an angry nest of hornets. Who are you? What are you doing here? What are you? The questions they asked, whispered and shrieked. Why are you bothering us? “I’m...I’m alright”, she stammered as Maggie let Donnie help up again, this time shutting her eyes to block out the sight. She couldn’t block out the noise or the cold. It’s too many, there’s too many.

“Victor?” Her eyes snapped open as she recognized that voice and immediately sought out the handsome man. Why did he have to be here out of all people? One of the last people Maggie would want to see in this situation because if she looked anywhere near as bad as she felt...well, she had to look pretty awful. “Um...out...out for a walk”, she stammered again, trying to ignore the ghostly man sticking his hand through Victor’s abdomen. I think I’m going to be sick. “What are you guys doing here?”

“You’re acting weird”. Beyond weird even for Maggie who was always a little odd in her ways. Awkward and always sort of distracted but Donnie had never seen her like this. She’s terrified. What’s she so scared of? Me? That didn’t make sense, Donnie had been seeing more of Maggie lately and she never acted like this before. Scared of the cemetery? If that’s the case, why is she here then? “Maggie, it’s alright. Calm the fuck down”, the Scot advised as he helped her up the second time.

You daena sound alright. You daena look alrignt, he thought but said nothing. Part of him was concerned about the girl. Maggie was a nice girl, always nice to him and Donnie wasn’t such a bastard that he wasn’t a little concerned. Part of him was concerned about Maggie interfering with business. He glanced at his watch. Vicky boy’s late, could be he’s not going to show.

Of fucking course, right on time. Brillant. Useless pounce. “You’ve the worst timing Vicky boy, you know that right? Save your smart ass remarks, nobody cares”, he added before the pounce could retort. I like you Maggie so why the fuck are you putting me in this position? The right thing to do was to take care of the girl but this was Donnie Galloway. He had made a lifestyle of doing almost every wrong thing a person could do to make a buck. He wasn’t going to make money by helping Maggie, now was he?

“We’re here to pick up the ladies. Jesus Maggie, we’re in a fucking cemetery! What do you think we’re doing?” On second thought the picking up ladies part was more likely since Donnie had no family or friends here in this old boneyard. Vicky might though. “We’re here to pay out respects to Vic’s Uncle Warbucks”, he lied. “You regularly go walking through cemeteries Mags? You’re fucking creepy. It’s not agreeing with you, looks like you’re ready to keel the over and take up a hole yourself”.

"I told you not to call me Vicky, dickhead", Victor asserted. "Not if you're still looking to get--" No, no it was better if he didn't bring up business, not with Maggie gaping at the pair in bewilderment, which Victor couldn't blame the redhead for. Was there ever an odder pair to run into at place the cemetery than Donnie Galloway and Victor Wellington? Great, how are we going to get rid of her? Victor considered the situation, deciding that Maggie was a gullible little twit. Surely they could feed her some horse shit and the bubbly nerd would bounce off and out of the way. She doesn't look particularly bouncy tonight, Victor noted as his gaze swept over her. It's a shame some girls just don't take a pride in their appearance, Victor disdainfully added. She's got a nice little body but needs to loose the glasses and get a better waredrobe. Victor opened his mouth to answer but Dickhead beat him to it.

Victor slowly turned his head, fixing a disbeliving glare at Donnie. Really? That was the best thing you could think to say there? Moron! Donnie went on to prove his stupidity by hauling an absurd excuse out of his ass about seeing Victor's deceased uncle. You've got to be kidding me, Victor rolled his eyes and leaned in to harshly whisper to Donnie. "Warbucks? Who the fuck am I? Orphan Annie? That was the best name you could come up with?" Moron! Oh Victor had made a mistake hiring Donnie. I should have hired Tad. He's quicker on his feet than this cocksucker.

Donnie was right about one thing though, Maggie did look like she was going to pass out and even Victor felt a rare pang of pity for the girl. He didn't have a clue what was wrong with her but something was. "Maybe you should sit down", Victor suggested. "I saw a bench not too far from here. It's better than sitting on the wet grass. Less dirty too", he added with a glance at the grass stains on her jeans. Victor offered his arm to the shakey girl. "Come on then".

Had she not been terrified out of her mind at that moment by the swelling group of dead rising up and surrounding them, Maggie would have gotten the Orphan Annie reference. She didn’t even notice when Victor pointed it out and berated Donnie. Her eyes remained on the dead through out. They look angry. No, pissed was a better way to describe it but why? What did I do? Are they mad because I touched the headstone? That was the only thing Maggie think of but that was ridiculous….wasn’t it? Maybe its not. This is the first time I’ve been in a cemetery since getting this power, maybe the dead always act like this and we just don’t know it. It was a mystery she’d have to figure out later.

“No, I don’t go for walks in cemeteries normally”, she answered Donnie, trying to look him in the eye and ignore the leering half rotted ghost over his shoulder. “And I don’t plan on any more in the future”, Maggie muttered, shivering as the cold air intensified. There were ghosts that felt cold to be around but Maggie rarely noticed it before now. One on one? Not bad. Surrounded by many? Like being in a freakin’ freezer! My teeth are chattering, she realized. “No…no, I need to get out of here”, she insisted with a shake of her head but she took Victor’s offered arm. “Will you take me outside? I’ll be fine outside”.

Maggie didn’t really wait for an answer as she stumbled toward the director of the main gate and tried to drag Victor with her. “You should leave too”, Maggie told the boys as she tired hard to ignore the ghostly forms surrounding them and walking through the living. Men and women, she even saw children which Maggie could never stomach seeing in the best circumstances (if there was such a thing with dead children) and right now seeing the smaller ghosts, little bodies with cold, dead eyes made Maggie feel like she was going to retch. “I think I’m going to be sick”

"Oi, shut it", Donnie growled at Victor quietly. "It was the best I could come up with alright?" Maggie wasn't giving a shit so Donnie didn't know why Victor was getting his knickers in a twist about this. "Just calm yer shit", he said in aside to Victor. "Aye, that so?" Donnie raised an eyebrow with a glance back at Maggie. Jesus, why is she so pale?....what is she looking at? It was hard to miss that Maggie seemed rather distracted. "That's probably for the best Mags", Donnie agreed. "Cemeteries are nasty places to go trolling around by yerself".

Another shock for the night, Victor Wellington the third actually being nice to someone. Donnie raised his eyebrows at Victor. "Right. Nothing wrong with a little dirt but yeah, you might be right". Maybe if Maggie sat down, she'd feel better and then maybe she'd take off so they could get down to business. "Alright there Mags?"

Even better! "Sure, if that's what you want but Maggie, what the fuck is wrong?" Donnie asked as he turned to lead the way out of the cemetery but she was already going ahead as if the devil was on her heels. "What? Why? What, are ye allergic to the dead?" Donnie shook his head when Maggie made like she was going to throw up. "Alright", Donnie took her other arm and hurried the pace. "C'mon, it's not that far Mags. You can hold it in till we get out through the gate. Just take deep breaths, alright?"

Donnie lead her out over the grassy plots and past the head stones, idly noting pale and cold her hands were. "Maybe you ought to go see a doctor before you head home", Donnie suggested. "Where's home anyway? I can tell you were the nearest hospital is to".

"Okay", Victor replied but he doubted Maggie would have given him any other option as she started toward the entrance gate. Someone's in a hurry, he thought but Victor was soon in step with Maggie, guiding her over the grassy pathway to the asphalt. Donnie was being his usual idiotic self with his inane questions. Who the fuck cared? For all they knew she had the stomach flu or...

A memory surfaced, one of Salome in the dressing room of Coco Der Mer about to be sick thanks to her power. Victor frowned at the memory, wondering what connection his mind had made between Salome getting sick and Maggie looking ready to upchuck. Then it occurred to him. Is Maggie a mutant too? He had wondered off hand about that before, after Tadeas told the boys of his misadventure with the redhead and some freaks grabbing him off the street. It seemed more likely that was because of Tad's shady business dealings but there had been suggestions it could be mutant related and if Maggie was involved and she was now getting sick, did that mean...?

Oh who the fuck cares? Victor thought selfishly as he pawned off Maggie onto Donnie, letting go of her arm lest she decide to vomit in his direction. With Salome, he would be sympathetic but that was Salome and this was Maggie. Completely different situations in Victor's mind. Besides, Donnie was taking over the compassionate role, almost to the point of being annoying about it.

"She doesn't need a hospital, right Maggie?" Victor said flately as they steadily reached the main gate. "She just needs a moment". If it was her mutation making her sick like Salome's had a tendency, Victor was certain the redhead would recover like Salome had after a few moments. I wonder what her power is? if she is a mutant I mean, Victor thought but looking at the pale woman who looked like shit, Victor felt pity and decided not to pry. Knowing Maggie, it would probably be something lame anyhow. "Are you feeling any better?" Victor asked once they got outside the cemetery.

Doing as Donnie instructed, Maggie focused on her breathing and tried to ignore the dead surrounding them. Tried and failed miserably but at least she tried. It was tempting to close her eyes to try to shut them out but knowing herself, Maggie knew that was just a tumble waiting to happen. When they made it to the gate, Maggie felt the cold air surrounding the ghosts receeding and though the ghosts didn't disappear, they weren't following either. Did they just want her out of there? That was the impression Maggie got, which was confusing but so long as they weren't following, Maggie wasn't complaining. "No, no hospital", Maggie agreed. "Home's around Sheperd's Bush. 88 Loftus. I just need to go home", she added.

Home to an empty flat where another ghost is waiting to pester me, Maggie thought and was subciquently depressed by that thought. "I wish I didn't live alone", Maggie groaned, closing her eyes. It would be so nice to go home and find her old roommate Leonie there but that wasn't going to happen. Even if Leonie did ever return to London, she was married now and not likely to move back in to her old room. "I really need to get a roommate". She was talking out loud but really just talking to herself, not expecting the boys to paying attention to her muttering.

Maggie opened her eyes again, her stomach no longer turning and her body beginning to warm up again. "I'm feeling better", she said to Victor although she was feeling embarrassed now that both Donnie & Victor had seen her in such a state. "Thanks for helping me out of there. I'm sorry I...er...interupted visiting your relativies". Now seemed like as good a time as any to take off before she further embarrassed herself so Maggie added with a weak smile, "I'm going to head home, take some aspirin and lie down I think. I'll see you guys around, okay?"