Tonight it's very clear
As we're both lying here
There's so many things I wanna say
I will always love you

"I don't understand why I have to be here," said Séance irritably.

Pogo shot him a dirty look.

"If you didn't want to come," he said crossly, "Then you shouldn't have gotten out of the car."

"Now why would I do that?" asked Séance, "It's not like there's anything fun to do in there."

He took a long drag from his cigarette. Turning away in disgust Pogo said;

"Show some respect."

"Ben doesn't mind if I smoke," shrugged Séance, "Don't you Ben?"

There was no answer, at least not one that Pogo could hear. After a minute Séance looked satisfied and inhaled again.

"See?"

"Just because you can smoke at your brother's grave doesn't mean you should," snapped Pogo.

Séance shrugged again and Pogo sighed. He knew he was in for a bumpy ride when Séance had announced his intention to check into rehab. Of course, Pogo hadn't expected to drive him there, though he approved of his decision. It was just that the day that he had picked to go wasn't exactly the most convenient.

The anniversary of Horror's death had been two weeks ago, and on that day Pogo always tried to visit his grave despite, and possibly because, no one else did. That day a giant rat had attacked the mansion though, so he hadn't had the chance. Then with one thing and another things got out of hand. At least he was there now, even though it was after dark and on the way to check the resident sociopath into rehab.

He sighed and shifted his feet. Although there was a memorial of a sorts to him on the grounds of the manor, he'd actually been buried in an upscale cemetery in the City. Pogo had known that things were going to go downhill from there, and in the four years since he'd died things had fallen apart. No one knew where Vanya was, Rumor had gotten married, Kraken was somewhere in the City, and Spaceboy was leaving for the moon that Saturday. Séance…he should've been checked in years ago.

"We gonna be here long?" asked the man in question nonchalantly.

Pogo wished he had come to the cemetery on the way back. However, cemeteries late at night tended to creep him out. He usually went during the morning hours because of this very reason. There had been too many zombie invasions that the Umbrella academy had had to fight off for them to do otherwise. That was why, understandably, when he heard the footsteps behind him he turned around.

There was a woman standing there, blinking at them as though confused. She was wearing a long overcoat, perfect for the chilly weather. The woman looked as though she'd been prepared to be out awhile, since there were gloves and earmuffs to match. Her eyes, still blinking, were an odd shade of blue.

Odder still was her hair color. Pogo had made it a policy of his never to speak to people concerning their hair color, not after living with Rumor's purple hair for so long. However, she had a kind of dark amber color that was unusual for any normal person. From one angle it might be blonde, from another a light brown.

However, what really caught his attention was the bag of cookies poking out of her tote bag. It was Keppler's Chocolate Cream. Keppler's was a middle class cookie brand, nothing special. During his life they had been Horror's favorite, and putting that together with her appearance at her grave…it was more than just a coincidence.

Even Séance had turned to stare now. Looking embarrassed the woman took a few nervous steps back.

"Ah, Academy," she said, "I'll, I'll just be going then."

She took a few more steps backwards. As she moved away though Pogo saw Séance swat the air irritably. His face scrunched up into a scowl before muttering;

"Fine."

He looked up to see that the woman was still backing away.

"Hey, you!" shouted Séance to her.

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving!" she said, putting her hands into the air, "Didn't I just say that? Geez…"

"Klaus," snapped Pogo, "You don't just shout at people."

Pogo turned to the woman with an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry, Séance doesn't have wonderful people skills," he said.

"Yeah, that's what I've read," she said, still backing away but now eyeing Séance as if he were uranium.

"Aw, come off it!" Séance said, jerking his thumb to Horror's grave, "Not gonna do anything. It's just squid boy here says to tell you glory be. Whatever the hell that means."

The woman froze. She looked between Séance and Pogo for a minute, her lips moving wordlessly.

"I can talk to dead people," Séance said helpfully.

"Yeah…yeah I know," she said, "But, glory be? That's exactly what he told you?"

"Uh, duh," Séance said, "Now what-"

He was interrupted as the woman burst into tears. Glaring at Séance Pogo moved forward. He paused before her awkwardly, not quite sure that he knew how to do this.

"You uh, you knew Ben?" he asked gently.

Nodding the woman wiped away her tears with her gloved hand.

"It's complicated," she sniffed, "And…well, kind of personal."

Reaching into her tote bag she took out the cookies he had seen earlier. Sidestepping Pogo and Séance she placed the bag on his grave. Sniffing again she said to the air in general;

"Thanks. Really means a lot to me."

She turned back to the stares of both Pogo and Séance.

"He can hear that, right?"

"Yeah, but what's that all about?" asked Séance.

"Like I said, personal," she said, "Now there's somewhere I need to be-"

"Hey, he was my brother," Séance said irritably, "And hell, I didn't need to tell you what he said. Thinkin' you owe me somethin' here."

For a moment the woman looked like she was about to smack him. Then she sagged visibly.

"So maybe I do. But look," she said, "it's a very long story."

"I'm not goin' anywhere," Séance said.

Pogo ached to contradict him, but he was curious now to. She gestured with her arm.

"You can listen," she said, "But you have to follow. I need to get…it's kinda on the other side of town-"

"We've got a cab," Pogo offered.

"I prefer to walk," she said scornfully, already moving fast out of the cemetery.

Sighing Pogo trudged after her. Séance was close behind as well, his hands shoved in his pockets. The woman, seeing that they were following, rolled her eyes.

"So, I guess it started about five years ago…" she began.