Disclaimer: I don't own The Paranorman. I don't own the picture (cover). Or the song.

(qwertuno and SilentReadersMatter)

(Inspired by a How To Train Your Dragon Fanfic called 'Though None Can Ever Follow.' Mainly Chapter Nine: Https://m.fanfiction.net/s/10540708/9/ Check it out, it's pretty good lol.)

(Hope you enjoy.)

Honestly, he's never fit in with humans.

Humans are creatures who require assistance in their lives. Norman lives as a punching bag for all their anger to be unleashed on and he's expected it take it all.

But sometimes-

"Nerd!" Alvin lunched Norman to the ground, kicking his ribs whilst he held them trying to soothe the pain. "Your just someone who doesn't deserve to exist! Now, kiss my boots!"

It hurt.

Norman looked at his peers. No one ever came to his aid, so he obeyed and got into a position on all four, adjusting his head to he kissed Alvin's shoes.

It tasted disgusting.

"P-please..." Norman begged, gagging at the mere smell of the shoes. "S-stop. I have to get home. Mom and dad will be searching for me."

Alvin appeared to be considering the words. And he measured the consequences of potentially being caught and sentenced to prison.

It didn't sound pretty. Even an idiot like him knew kicking kicks and done expecting a happy ending was a fool's dream to have when he bullied the nerd.

Alvin decided it was time to leave.

"Fine, Normality." A nickname rarely used by the bully. It still hurt. "C'mon guys, let's leave this loser to lose in peace."

The other laughter Norman and Alvin walking away from the beaten kid. Norman just wanted to go home, was that so hard to want?

Apparently yes.

Norman stood in two feet. Dusting himself off, he rubbed his sleeves to clear any soil sneaking its way into his clothes. Dad wouldn't yelled if that case was presented back home.

He didn't want that.

"Norman!"

He turned to see who called his name. A smiled snaked it's way and he relaxed once realising it was someone friendly toward him.

Unlike everyone else.

The ghost hugged Norman close. Using its physical energy to manifest so it allowed its form to hold the boy close in the arms like he was their child.

Their child.

School was finished so Norman took his sweet time with chatter. The ghost floated all the streets and Norman was invisible via supernatural abilities.

He felt more comfortable than being visible.

"Thanks."

Even not knowing this ghost, Norman relaxed and felt safer around them than humans. He watched people passing the streets slowly. The ghost passed through walls clutching him thought as it wasn't used to accessing it for two creatures.

"Welcome. You are ours. Not then human's."

Ghosts crowded the streets more than the humans. It was probably due them being the dead, but Norman never mentioned these faces. His family aren't sensitive to people.

So he how learned sensitivity worked.

You don't cross boundaries. Ask unnecessary question, push anyone past their limits, etc. Health class really though the basic morals and human rights. For once, he's glad to be in school.

If not, Norman would sure become as cruel as his mom and dad. They didn't respect anyone.

"Sleep now. Little one."

Norman drifted off in their arms. Powers holding a grip over his mind making obey instantly. Though, it isn't in the unwilling sense. Norman can resist if he chose to. He just chose not to.

If someone made you safe, why fight against them?

And no, he doesn't have Stockholm syndrome. The ghost carried the sleeping boy to his home, almost taking away once it sensed the negative aura.

"Norman!"

The ghost kept his mouth shut once seeing the boy's grandma. Floating there with her arms cross adorning a disapproving look at seeing her grandson in the arms of a poltergeist.

"Let go of him."

The ghost immediately handed the boy over easily into his grandma's arms. Norman oblivious to the whole events due to his injured bleeding resulting in blood loss.

"Treat his wounds."

The ghost whispered gently, peering down at the with a small smile. The grandma moved a little further away in a nervous state.

"He's not yours."

"He's not yours either!"

Shrieking, the grandma was cornered by this particular ghosts. Poltergeists had a reputation of possessiveness over what they considered theirs.

"The boy belongs to the other side. Not with humans who neglect his health. We take care of him more than anyone else. Do not say he isn't ours. Because humans are not better than demons."

It floated into the distance giving the grandma moments to think before phasing inside the house and treating injuries until they covered by scars.

Needless to say, all other ghosts weren't going to happy to find out the seeker had been. The grandma sat in the chair to knit until she felt it was safe enough to leave Norman to his own parents.

She knitting up a new sweater taking her sweet time thinking how long it would take for anyone to notice the injuring on the boy's body.

"Not like just jackass son would notice anyway."

***

Grandma gave him permission to have the day off.

"Norman! Norman!"

Ghost kids ran across the room sticking their tongues out as the injured boy chasing them in circles left and right laughing at his playful misery.

"Guys!" He laughed, panting heavily. "Wait up! I can't run that far! And UP THERE!"

Norman had been left to babysit the kids whilst the ghost parents went out to do a few scares. He honestly didn't mind as it gave him something to do for the day.

The kids (he never referred them as ghouls, against the sacred rules of respect), ran up and done the stairs like little maniac and Norman wondered if the parents allowed them any food before leaving.

...They're ghosts.

He facepalmed. What a stupid thought.

"Norman? What's wrong?"

The toddler looking six years old hugged his leg. Not too tight nor too lose. She was a ghost anyway so she could cling and he wouldn't even now she was there.

At least she asked permission to do so.

"Nothing, little one." Norman lied softly, not wanting to place a burden on their shoulders. "I'm just thinking of life."

"Why think of life?" She asked confusedly, tilting her head. "We ghosts, we think of dead pact and churches to haunt!"

Norman had to stifle his laughter. Obviously the parents taught the kids how to haunt a building. He's honestly proud of the ghost.

"I'm alone. Human. Flesh bag."

She grimaced. Eyes darkening, she frowned.

"Flesh bag. They ruin lives. Killed me."

"Killed me to kid." Norman whispered, shrugging his shoulders. "Made me not feel anymore. Worthless. Killed me on the inside."

"So...you are dead?"

"Dead in a way I don't wanna be."

The kids parents those that exact moments to arrive and brought them all into a hug. Norman doesn't have even be able to see to know they heard every word he said prior to this.

"Flesh bags are evil."

Norman can't disagree.

***

It's the event of the ghosts gathering.

Surprisingly (and unsurprisingly), Norman's invited along with his grandma meaning missing another school day and not being beaten to a pulp.

"Alright!"

You guessed it, he agreed on the spot. How can he not when it meant avoiding human interaction? The flesh bags are no good except for annoyances.

Ghost greet Norman as if they're family. Some shake hands, nose just say hi and be on their way to attend whatever business they have going for them.

"Hey, little one."

A ghost ruffled his hair. Norman swatted their hand way and they have a genuine hurt look. He bit his lip and begrudgingly allowed it a few seconds more.

That's all it was.

"Hey!" He greeted happily, shaking hands. It was a ghost he didn't often so it was great when he did. "I like you outfit! Special occasion, huh?"

He winked cheekily. The ghost gasped, swatting his head with a smell 'ow' coming out his mouth. Rubbing the sore spot with a grumble. Ghost forgot their strength sometimes.

"Yeah." It wasn't capable of blushing, the tone is the only way Norman knew their emotion. "My one is here. He promised to be here."

Internally cringing, Norman exchanged glances with others heading the conversation. He expressed a sympathetic emotion. The ghost wouldn't reunite.

She died of a broken heart.

"...I'm sure you will."

The ghost squealed, hugging Norman before quickly floating off. He sighed, closing his eyes in processing the often tragedy of their deaths.

He forgot murder was a common cause.

"Hey. Boy."

An old man faced Norman. He was one of the more...old fashioned ghosts. So he agreed not to have his phone in his presence least he cause a scene. He'd be blamed for the dramatics.

"Heya." Norman forced a smile. "What can I do for you, sir? Need a drink?"

Always be polite.

Older ghosts are more strict than the youngest so it's best to ask before doing. Actions have consequences.

"You had food today, boy?"

Right on cue, Norman's stomach growled. Knowing he was screwed, he decided to tell the honest truth.

"My parents haven't fed me today."

And Norman meant honest.

The music suddenly stopped. Ghosts shrieked, some cursed obscenities, others rushed to the food table handing him sandwiches, fries, the works.

The one rule all is you cared for the kids.

Norman ate as everyone watched. Eating every single bite and chewing and swallowing the admitted tasty food. Until the place was empty.

"Good boy. Now we are satisfied."

Everyone resumed their activities.

Norman quickly becomes dead to any conversions that weren't with the the ghosts. The supernatural deciding to real themselves to the public.

Needless to say people were horrified. Most fainted, some watched in curiosity, others murmured amongst themselves seeing the ghost talking freak sitting between what was clearly two demons.

Chatting friendly like with them to be exact.

"NORMAN!"

Unfortunately, his family caught wind. Immediately packing and heading to the location of said event, they were terrified to see their little boy sitting with ghosts who could do him calm.

"Is there a problem?"

A ghost spoke politely. Standing there in a suit causing the mon and dad to jump back in startled.

"Yes!" The dad pointed a finger to his son. "My boy is in there! Get him so he can home!"

"Hmmm..." The ghost drawled, switching his head to look at Norman and the humans. "I don't believe that's possible. We won't kick one of ours."

The way he said they one word. The passiveness made it clear they weren't giving up the boy. The mom tried a peaceful route.

"He's our baby boy." She told him gently, trying a softening tone. "Please give him back. We are his rightful family. Norman's not yours to claim-"

"He's not yours either."

The ghost hissed, others now backing it up. Floating around the family in a way indicating they weren't messing anymore. It started out as a joke. Now it turned serious.

How unfortunate for them.

"The boy is ours. Came to us in need. We helped him, soothed the nightmares you cause with your little arguments. Norman isn't yours."

"Get a divorce already."

"Your obviously not right for each other~"

The ghost teased. Just to add extra layer on the pinch of salt, one ghost twirled their finger and Norman's head span to meet their eyes.

Their colours were green.

Norman walked over and his dad tried seizing his arm so they could leave. Norman flinched as he's burned the boy. The ghosts hissed protectively, floating front of the boy.

"Do you want to leave Norman?"

Norman shook his head. In his mind, there was just people coming to take him away from his friends and family. These people were strangers.

"No thank you. May I go back?"

The ghosts ruffled his hair and smiled approvingly. The family's faces were priceless in their eyes, looks of horror, shock, and most funnily, fear.

"Yes, you may."

A ghost kid took his hand and dragged him back in. He ended up in the middle of a food line and served a meal suitable to a human child.

Ghosts needed to adapt after all. Feeding a human isn't easy when your dead so cooking is essential at parties meant to entertain adult and children.

"Let this be a lesson."

The ghosts floated away leaving the family and one from earlier alone. He glared at them all before he muttered the words.

"Norman is ours. Not yours. Never will be yours."

The Grandma glanced over, her son begging for her help is getting Norman back to his true home. Paternal instinct fought against ghost instinct.

She looked at Norman entrusted with the ghosts kids. A sign of trust to leave a human alone with the child of their sworn enemy.

The Grandma shook her head, closing her eyes as she took a smoke in. You can't die if you dead. If was their fault for driving the boy into depression.

He found salvation and wouldn't leave. She didn't blame Norman if he never considered humans family.

The ghosts have taken him in.