Ghost Trick is such a great game and I've been stifling my geeking out for the whole day. I let it out in the form of this idea fanfiction thing. Which I'm not sure if it's good or anything, but whatever. Beware spoilers, by the way. This all takes place after the endgame. Or...before...? Time travel is confusing.

I'm still not actually sure what happens with this time travel thing. Who actually remembers what happens in an alternate timeline? Obviously those who died and the ghosts who helped out, but what happens in between with their memories? Are they unaware until the point after their death, when they go back into the present? Usually, it really wouldn't matter. It's just four minutes, you see, and by the end of everything, you would practically already be back at the present, you know. But with Yomiel, it was ten years. So did he remember everything he had done in the alternate timeline? In fact, who remembers the whole thing? Sissel (protagonist Sissel that is) obviously will remember (though again, will he remember over the course of ten years?) but did everybody else who was there remember? Missile? Jowd? And what about all the deaths you circumvented beforehand? None of that would have happened at all since you've stopped everything from happening ten years ago. So does that mean that Lynne now doesn't know Sissel at all? and Jowd's death is erased too. So he shouldn't have a core, so does that mean he shouldn't remember? Same goes with freaking Missle. So goddammit, who remembers besides the obvious Sissel and Yomiel? Gaaah.

I've made up random shit to answer some of these questions and it's really just speculation on my part and also it's sort of necessary for some plot stuff. I think. In any case, there might be more to come. I have quite a few ideas. I'm just not sure if I have the patience to write it all out.

BUT OH MY GOD GHOST TRICK IS SUCH A COOL GAME.


It had been a rather busy and trying night, and Yomiel was rather glad that he had been unconscious for most of it. He didn't particularly feel like taking part in another situation where someone's life was at risk, even if it was his own. He had practically inhaled the whole canister of gas in the ambulance so that he could fall into a blissful sleep while doctors around him debated back and forth whether his legs would need to be amputated or not. (It didn't really come to that, though he found he didn't particularly care if he had legs or not.)

The next time he was fully awake, he was in a hospital bed. There were a couple of guards about. Apparently the police were worried that he might try to escape again. If they saw a possibility, though, he didn't see it at all, what with all the casts and slings and IV drips and the whole shebang. Somehow, he could even feel something in his chest. Something around his ribs. He hadn't even been aware he had broken them.

His sunglasses were off and set on a small table beside his bed. And, with some embarrassment, he realized his clothes were off too and he had no idea where they were. But that's what happens when you have something approximating a full body cast.

Yomiel glanced at the stern-faced officers around them and gestured to one (at least they left his hands free). The officer stiffened and stared at him. He had no idea what to think of this strange, helpless criminal. Yomiel didn't particularly blame him. He had ran away and took a little girl hostage and then, immediately afterward, saved her from a rather grisly end.

The officer was not really responding. "Hey," Yomiel called out to him.

After some hesitation, the officer said, "Yes?"

"Mind putting my glasses on me?"

More hesitation. "…Why?"

"I just feel better with them on. Not like it'll hurt anybody."

Even more hesitation. This officer seemed like quite a newbie. If they were assigning newbies to guard him, maybe they really weren't all that worried he'd escape. "…I'm…not sure if it will fit around your, uh, bandages."

Oh. So his head was bandaged too. He just thought that he was having a headache (for rather good reasons). "Just try anyways. If it hurts, then I'll tell you."

It hurt. He didn't tell him. The guard went back to standing tall and looking sternly at anybody who passed the door (only nurses and other patients).

Now that his eyes were hidden, Yomiel stared at his feet (encased heavily in bandages) and thought about how weird it was having memories of another timeline. Memories of dying and having the power to possess and manipulate and of his time spent as a cat. He would have just called it a dream and forgotten about it if it weren't for the fact that, even now, the memories continued to play out in his head, playing out what he was doing at this exact moment. Or would have been doing at this exact moment if he had died. Which, right now, (or then?) was grieving. Over Sissel. Who had…who had…well, he honestly didn't want to think about that right now.

And besides that, he also seemed to have a nagging feeling that he had done something horrible, but he had no clear idea what. That memory was even fainter and more dreamlike than the other timeline memory. Though he had a feeling that if he waited long enough, he would get an idea of what he had done. Or would have done. Or would have will do.

The doctor came in, a short man with tired eyes, a heavy, chiseled nose, and the smell of smoke on his breath. What kind of doctor smokes? How many people would knowingly go to a doctor that smokes?

"How're ya feeling?" the doctor asked, rubbing the rings under his eyes and wiping his heavily furrowed brow.

Horrible. "Itchy."

"Yeah, casts feel quite itchy. You better get used to it though, you'll have them on for a long time." The doctor rubbed his eyes again and it occurred to Yomiel that the doctor might be a smoker because he was a doctor. Suddenly he felt sympathetic. The doctor glanced at him wearily. "…What are you doing with those sunglasses?" he asked sharply.

"I like having them on," Yomiel shot back defensively. The doctor stared at him for a long time before shrugging and turning his chiseled nose away again.

He sighed heavily before saying, "I'm glad to see you're up."

"If you have bad news for me, you may as well just say it," Yomiel said with a directness that surprised (and…possibly pleased…?) the doctor. "Am I not going to walk again or something?"

"No, nothing like that," the doctor said quickly, crossing his arms. "I just feel I must tell you about your…stay here." Sounds like bad news. "You've broken several bones in your body. Not to mention having cracked that noggin of yours."

As he moved to the end of the bed to pick up Yomiel's chart, the blond man said, "That rock never hit my head. Nor, for that matter, my arms."

"Maybe so," the doctor replied, sucking on a pen. "But don't forget that something else hit you rather hard. The ground. In any case, besides broken legs, a shattered pelvis, fractured ribs…"

"Wow. Is there any bone I haven't broken, doc?"

"Don't sound so proud. And for your information, your skull turned out rather intact." Yomiel detected an unsaid 'thank god' at the end of that sentence. "And you managed to keep all the bones in your ears in mint condition." Bones in his ears? There were bones in ears? "But that's not what I came to talk about."

"What?" Yomiel said absentmindedly, still distracted by the thought of bones in his ears. (How small were these bones?)

"We had to do a little surgery. You may have noticed the plate around your ribs and, of course, we've had to brace your spine as well..." That didn't sound safe. At all. "You will need a lot of supervision. No tissue have died yet, but they could if we can't keep blood and other such things running through 'em. Which is why you have several IV bags connected to you," the doctor added, casually flicking one of the bags beside him. That also didn't seem safe.

"Alright, what else?"

The doctor coughed a rather phlegmy cough before continuing. "Well, we may have to…continue doing some surgery."

If he could, he would have shrugged. "Alright. Anything else?"

The doctor paused again. This resigned acceptance was apparently off-putting. "Well, there is also still a chance…you will turn out deformed. Things may not, well, heal right."

"I wouldn't be surprised, what with having a giant mascot on my back for…how long was it?"

"Longer than you would have wanted," the doctor commented wryly.

"Yeah, that long," Yomiel agreed.

The doctor placed the clipboard back at the end of his bed and thoughtfully tapped his pen against his teeth. It made a sound that got annoying rather quickly. "Seeing as you have not gotten upset so far, I suppose I feel safe enough telling you the last thing…" He turned his nose to the couple of guards in the room before saying, "As soon as we deem that you are healthy enough to move, you will be moved to…well, prison." He felt uncomfortable saying it. Even the guards looked uncomfortable just hearing it. A man who had broken every bone in his body to save a little girl? Behind bars?

"Alright." Yomiel caught the incredulous stares. It was hard to miss all three of them. "Well, I committed a crime. How long do you think 'til I can actually move around, doc?"

"Eh? Ah, well…" The short doctor scratched at his chin. "My guess…you're actually quite well for someone who got crushed under a large rock. Your arms aren't even really broken, so those slings will be off shortly. I suspect you'll be moved as soon as you can sit up. That may be in a few weeks, though that's being optimistic. You'll still probably have an IV drip following you around, though."

Yomiel took all of this without blinking. Not that anybody would tell behind his shades. It was a lot to take in, though, on top of the strange alternate memories he was having, and so he took his time before replying, "Alright." And then something occurred to him. "Did anybody come to visit me?"

"I'm sorry, but for you, there are, ah, no visitors allowed." The doctor had glanced to the officers again. Yomiel followed his glance and the officers somehow managed to stiffen even more. Afraid of visitors, hm? "Oh, but it's not just because of that," the doctor added hastily. "In your condition, it's just not…safe."

Yomiel had never heard of a situation where it was not safe to have any visitors. Still, he said, "Alright. But did anybody try to visit me?"

"Mm, ah, yes. A rather upset woman who stormed out before even telling us her name." The details were vague, but Yomiel was certain he knew who this woman was.

At some point, the doctor finally left after checking more graphs and machines and needles and such, leaving Yomiel with the two guards, who seemed tenser than before.

Right now, he was feeling furious. Alternate dead him, that is. And he remembered evil, dark thoughts running through his head…

Not that he didn't understand, of course. It would be silly to not be able to understand himself, even if 'himself' didn't exactly exist. But, sitting in the comfort of a hospital room with the advantage of being able to look at the situation objectively, he couldn't help but think himself unreasonable. The alternate dead himself, of course.

"Hey," he called out to one of the guards. The guard seemed a little startled and stood to attention. If he stood any more to attention, he would have been standing on his toes. "D'ya happen to know if my sentence has been decided yet?"

The guard hesitated and turned to his friend. "Has it been decided yet?"

Guard number two rubbed the back of his head. "I…think I heard them say five years. Sentenced for not complying with police and holding a person hostage…"

"Five years?" Yomiel repeated.

"Yeah, usually it'd be a little longer, I think," the first guard said, not really talking to anybody in particular. "Holding someone hostage alone is usually—"

"Too short."

It actually took the guards a few seconds to realize he had even said anything at all. Even Yomiel was surprised. He had said it automatically, just without thinking. It was something about 'five years.' It struck a memory…he supposed it was an alternate memory again. Though this time, it was part of a hazy memory of some point in the future…it was that memory of something horrible again. And again, he still wasn't sure of any details. But he was absolutely convinced that something horrible happened and he was the cause of it all. It deserved punishment, this something he did…or will do or was going to about to do or whatever tense you use in this situation.

"Five years is too short," he repeated to the two shocked guards. "Give me the full punishment. Without the pity."

"But," one guard started, spluttering rather loudly. "But you, but right now,"

"Right now you are looking at a man who held a little girl hostage. She couldn't have been older than ten."

"But," the other guard spluttered. "But then, but you,"

"Whenever you get off duty, be sure to tell your superiors. It's a special request from their prisoner."

And he stared at them with such intensity behind his shades that the guards had to finally stop and say, "Alright."

A weight lifted off his mind and he sank deeper in his pillow, content. The tension in the air was ruining the mood a bit, though. Looked like the guards would collapse from…stress, or whatever.

This was no atmosphere for a man who broke all his bones to be in. He was definitely too tired to deal with this.

So Yomiel avoided it by taking a nap. And while he slept, he watched another him go insane with the idea of revenge.