The Last 24 Hours

Summary: Rebecca finds herself back in time
Warning(s): Spoilers for the series; AU; canon character death; elements of horror
Pairing: Peter Quint/Rebecca Jessel

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“It’s you, me, us.”

She stared into his eyes. Stared into Peter Quint’s eyes. And she waited for the compulsion to hit. Waited to have her voice taken over by the past. To say the words, as she had done so many times before.

It’s you. It’s me. It’s us. The words echoed through her mind, but wouldn’t reach her lips. And Peter was staring at her, expecting her to let him in. As she had done so the last year.

“No.” The word escaped her mouth without conscious thought. Without her making the decision to say it.

It wasn’t the first time she’d tried to say no. Every time she slipped back into those memories, she tried to change it. She’d screamed herself hoarse, if a ghost could lose her voice. And still, it had all played out the same way. Still, she’d accepted him into her body. Been caught up in their happy memories. And then he’d abandoned her. Left her to feel the cold water closing over her head. Just the memory of trying and failing to catch her breath filled her with such panic, she came close to hyperventilating.

“No?” Peter’s ghost drew back, eyes widening in shock.

His shock only matched her own, but she didn’t waste the second chance she’d been given. If it was a second chance. Maybe she was lost inside a dream. Was this what it felt like to lose herself? Even now, was her ghost losing its features? Was she unrecognisable to Flora and Miles? How long did it take before her featured blurred into obscurity?

It didn’t matter if this was dream, memory or, somehow, real. She grabbed the chance she’d been given tightly with both hands and said the words. “No. I won’t let you kill me again. I won’t let you trap me here again.”

“Bex, wait.” Peter stepped forward, but he couldn’t touch her. His form just went through her, like a rush of cold air.

Like he was a spirit and she was still alive.

Rebecca turned round and stared at Peter’s back. “We’ve done this before.” She shook her head. “Are you playing games with me?”

He turned round to her and stepped forward, reaching out a hand as if he was going to stroke a lock of hair out of her face. But he couldn’t touch her and his hand curled into a fist as he lowered it. “I’m not playing any games with you. I just want us to be together.”

“You want us to be together by killing me.” Rebecca skirted around Peter’s ghost, because even if he couldn’t touch her, she couldn’t bring herself to just walk straight through him. She left the wing and walked along the corridor.

“Bex! Come back here! Don’t leave me alone.”

She ignored him calling after her, half-expecting it all to fade away. To find herself lost in another memory, or back in the attic with Peter’s ghost and Flora and Miles.

But nothing faded away. There were sharp edges surrounding her, instead of the soft, hazy blur she’d come to associate with the blend of dream and memory. It felt real. She looked down at herself and she pinched her arm between her thumb and forefinger.

It hurt, the pain sharp and sudden.

Rebecca released her skin with a sharp gasp and let her body sag against the bannister. She gripped on tight, her legs suddenly unable to support her. Was she truly alive? The different sensations and the fact she could feel pain seemed to suggest she was, but how was that even possible?

“What are you doing to me?” She didn’t know who she was addressing the question to. Bly Manor, perhaps? This was her home now. This was where she was trapped. Peter wanted her to take over Flora’s body, but how could she do that to the little girl? It wasn’t fair to take over the children’s lives. Flora and Miles would only say yes because they trusted her and Peter. And how were they going to repay that trust?

“Are you all right, Miss. Jessel?”

Rebecca raised her eyes to Mrs. Grose. To Hannah. She locked eyes with the other woman and then strode forward. She grabbed Hannah’s upper arms and spoke in a voice intense with passion. “Don’t confront Miles at the well.”

Mrs. Grose laughed, but it was a nervous sound that lacked any kind of humour. She took a step back, forcing Rebecca’s hands to drop. “What are you talking about?”

“There’s something evil in this house.” Rebecca spoke quickly. She didn’t know how much time she would have. If anything she did or said now could truly change anything. But she had to try.

“Miss. Jessel….”

“No, listen to me,” Rebecca interrupted. “You have to know that something’s wrong here. Corrupt. Rotten. And it’s going to kill you. It’s already killed Peter. And me.”

“Miss. Jessel, Peter isn’t dead.” Mrs. Grose took another step back. “I know you’d prefer it if he was dead, because that would mean he hadn’t left you. Believe me, I know what the pain of heartbreak is like.” Her smile was gentle and sympathetic. “He isn’t worth breaking your heart over.”

“Bex.”

The word, the nickname, belonged to Peter…but the voice was Miles’. Rebecca turned round to see the boy standing behind her, a dark look on his face. He came towards her like a predator stalking its prey. “You walked away from me. You shouldn’t walk away from me.”

“Miles.” Mrs. Grose stepped forward, moving towards Rebecca’s side. “You should be in bed. It’s past your bedtime.”

Miles looked at her and his lower lip curled in a sneer of contempt. “Don’t tell me what to do,” he stated. “You are not in charge of me, Hannah.”

“Miles.” Mrs. Grose stepped forward, as if she was preparing to scold him.

The possessed boy glanced at the housekeeper and then at the bannister. He took a step forward and then another one, bringing him into Mrs. Grose’s personal space.

Rebecca saw the look on his face. She saw him lift his hands and prepare to push. And she leaped into the way and felt the hands slam into her with far greater force than a preteen boy should be able to muster. She toppled over the bannister and fell through the air and….

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“It’s you. It’s me. It’s us.”

Rebecca frowned as, rather than find herself stuck in a different memory, she was instead in front of Peter’s ghost once more. She looked around and then back into his eyes. “Is this you?” she asked. “Are you holding me here?”

Peter frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“You want to kill me.” She stared at him. Stared into his eyes. Her voice dropped into a low, hurt tone. “You’re going to possess me and walk me outside. You’re going to drown me. I know, because I’ve gone through it once already.” She swallowed and took a hesitant step back, whispering, “You just pushed me over the bannister.”

“I would never….”

“You were trying to kill Hannah. Mrs. Grose. Why…?” She shook her head. “Why would you do that? You killed her in the future too. Pushed her down the well. I don’t understand why you’d do that. I thought maybe it was because this house turned you. Corrupted you. But I think now that you just have this darkness inside you. And it’s got worse, now that you’re dead.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m losing my mind,” she whispered. “Losing myself. I have to be. I can’t change the past. It’s not possible. I’m dead. I need to find my way back.”

“Bex….”

“No.” She ran through him, out of the wing and along the corridor. Her feet made hard, almost pounding sounds against the floorboards.

“Rebecca. What are you doing, running like someone’s after you?” Mrs. Grose stopped in front of her, eyes narrowed in concern. “Is someone in the house?”

“Yes. No. I don’t….” Rebecca shook her head sharply. “I have to go.” She pushed past the housekeeper and headed for the stairs.

“You can’t leave me, Bex.”

She turned round, seeing Peter’s form standing behind Mrs. Grose. “I can’t do this again. I….” She shook her head. “No, I….”

“Miss. Jessel!”

A tiny form threw herself at Rebecca, sending her stumbling to one side, away from the staircase. At the same time, a rush of freezing cold air went past her. She turned to see the featureless ghost sweep past her, on her usual journey into the old room. Looking for whatever it was that held her here in the manor.

“Flora!” Mrs. Grose quickly moved past Rebecca and grabbed the little girl.

“She killed me.”

Rebecca’s body jerked at the voice that sounded in her ear. She turned round, heart pounding ferociously in her chest, and locked eyes with Peter. “I can’t be trapped here with you,” she whispered. “There’s not much else I want other than to be with you, but I can’t turn into that. I can’t turn into her.”

Peter stared at her and then lifted his hand, as if he wanted to touch her. Instead, his hand dropped back to his side. “You should follow Jamie’s suggestion. Call Henry. Follow your dreams.”

She blinked and he was gone. Leaving her behind. Living out a second chance she wasn’t even sure she deserved. She turned and she looked at Mrs. Grose, hugging Flora…and she let the tears come. She let herself grieve.

There would be time enough to figure out her next step later.

The End