"You'll need to find my body," Alastair told her as she emerged out of the bathroom, still red and pink.

Apprehension crawled under her skin but she set her lips into a fine line and nodded.

"Do you know where it is?"

A brief silence. Then a tight, "Yes."

"I don't-" Tara paused as a few students walked past her. Whispering and pointing at her bloody dress.

She bared her teeth at them and formed her hands into claws, growling to the best of her efforts as the kids ran away, scampering.

"Mean." Alastair chided her as he walked in her step.

"I am a mean, lean, smoking machine." She peered into several classrooms, going into one she saw to be empty.

"As I was saying, I don't understand what our play is here," Tara confessed and watched as Alastair poked his head through a wall.

"Oh no..." He whispered.

"What?" Tara stiffened.

"Sara Lee is cheating on O'Brien."

"What?" She almost forgot that Alastair watched the students daily like his personal television.

"I was rooting for them too." He sighed, walking back to Tara.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "We have bigger problems, here."

"Yes but Sara Lee?"

Tara resisted the urge to say 'I know right?' and instead said, "Alastair." in her firmest voice.

"Right well - what was the question again?"

Tara glared at him. "What would we do after we find your body? We still wouldn't be able to get Jake - wherever he is now."

"The knife is still in me, darling."

"But won't have the fingerprints degraded?"

Alastair gave her a look. "What do you do in school? No, fingerprints can stay up till forty years on an object after its deposition."

"Know-it-all."

"I'm the reason you're still passing."

Tara scoffed but didn't argue.

"What would I do if they ask me what I was doing around in there when I find your body."

"You tell them you were looking around for a private place to bang your boyfriend or something of course."

It was like he had this all planned out.

Tara almost hit herself. Of course, he had this all planned out. He must've been dreaming of this moment since he died.

"But I don't have a boyfriend."

"Is that post still up for grabs then?"

Tara reached out to slap him in the arm, but her hand passed right through.

She huffed.

"Really? You're literally passing gas and God knows how many years older than me."

Alastair gave her an incredulous look.

"You make me sound like one of those creepy ass sixteen-hundreds' ghosts'."

"Don't be stupid." She rolled her eyes. "You're one of them four-hundred BC ones."

Alastair stepped closer and narrowed his eyes at her forehead, blatanly using his height as an advantage to his argument.

"Funny how i'm still younger than you."

Tara grinned. "Hilarious, considering you're the one with wrinkles."

"Those are called smile lines dumbass." He smacked his hand through her head. "Of course you wouldn't know what those are you sour-puss."

She crossed her arms over her chest defensively and pouted. "I know how to smile."

"And I know how to eat Pineapple Pizza and not barf. Lets not lie here, beautiful."

Tara let out a loud disbelieving laugh. "What are you talking about? Pineapple pizza is the best."

"Dear God." He paused, "I should've helped you sooner."

"I just transferred last year - what were you going to do, fly your toxic gas over to Missouri?"

Alastair pouted. "I'm not a fart, nor some toxic gas."

"Radiation, then."

Alastair frowned, passed through the floor and left.

"Alastair!" Tara shouted, dropping to the floor and pounding on it. "Get back here!"

No reply.

"Come on, boy. Here, here." She patted her thighs and whistled for him. "Come on boy."

No reply.

Tara sniffed, gritted her teeth and bellowed, "Alastair, come here now!"

Alastair flickered into existence in front of her. His kneecaps to her eye-level.

She looked up and glared at him. "I'm the only one helping you, remember that."

Alastair smirked. "Yes, but your classmates below sure think you've gone a little... Senile."

Tara's lips parted in surprise. "What?"

"Mhm," Alastair looked so pleased with himself that he sat himself down beside her. "I heard your friends down at the chemistry lab practically disown you, darling. You're an orphan now."

Tara suppressed a shudder. "Don't call me that."

"What? An orphan?"

"No. Darling, Love or whatever it is you call me."

"Why shouldn't I, sweetie?"

Tara glowered daggers at Alastair, who gave her the sweetest smile he could muster.

"You never said I couldn't call you sweetie."

"Don't call me anything."

Alastair put a hand on his chest, an expression of hurt crossing over his face. "Why, I would never call you anything, sweetheart."

"Good." Tara nodded at him and got up from her spot on the ground, starting towards the door, oblivious.

Alastair followed.

"Where are we going?" Tara asked just as she bumped into someone.

"I should ask you that, Tara Banks." Said a tight nasally voice.

Tara blinked at the face in front of her. And the massive glasses.

"Oh, glasses!" Tara grinned at the hall monitor like she was a dear old friend. "How are you today?"

"I was doing fine." She said in disdain. "Before you came along."

"Come now, I'm not that bad."

"You are," Alastair whispered in her ear.

"Shut up." Tara hissed at Alastair over her shoulder without a second thought.

"What?" Glasses breathed.

"What?" Alastair and Tara said in unison.

"Um..." Glasses took in Tara apprehensively. "Where are you going?"

"The bathroom."

"The bathroom's that way," Glasses pointed behind Tara and at Alastair unknowingly whose eyebrows shot up. "And that was your excuse the last four times. Pick something new."

"But, hello," Tara pointed to her clothes. "I really do need to go to the bathroom."

Glasses smiled knowingly at her. "Then I'll drop you off at the bathroom since you're so lost. And then take you to your class, that is if you don't have any problem with it."

Tara's left eye twitched. "None at all."

"Great."

Glasses took hold of Tara's hand and took her back to the bathroom. Which was already stained with various drops of red.

"I suppose you don't have your hall pass, either?"

Tara huffed. "Well you see, i had it but then this crazy freshie came in screaming and-"

"Save it." Glasses sighed, an exhausted look drifting onto her face.

She looked back at Tara and pushed her spectacles up her long nose, the haughty look climbing back onto her features. "Are you sure you haven't already been?"

"Of course, I haven't."

Glasses glanced at her wet shirt and the mess in the bathroom.

"I'll be waiting then."

Then she closed the door.

"Can you kill her?" Tara turned to Alastair who raised a brow.

"Well no, most I can do is possess people."

A dark thought popped into Tara's mind.

"You could do that to me too. Why not possess me and do all the work you need me to do without having to explain yourself to me?"

Alastair bristled at the accusation.

He stayed quiet for a while, the room only growing colder by the second. "I don't."

Tara's brows furrowed. "Huh?"

"I don't possess people, I'm not a fucking monster."

Alastair didn't wait for Tara to reply he only walked out of the bathroom, through the wall.

Tara couldn't help but feel guilty and... stupid for asking that - but that feeling was short-lived as a few seconds later she heard a scream and loud, receding footsteps.

Alastair stepped back in. "We can go."

"What did you do?" Tara's voice came out harsher than she meant.

Alastair looked up at her. A fit of silent anger in his eyes. "I only scared her off. We can go."

Alastair stormed off, Tara hurrying behind him.

They didn't talk though. And even though nobody could see Alastair, they could definitely feel the tension in the air.

He only said one sentence to her, when they reached the basement.

"Get a shovel."