Chapter Text
Trevor was in the TV room giving the ghost snail, Shelly, a full breakdown of The Cutting Edge—plot, characters, unnecessary trivia—when the conversation drifted, a little more seriously than he meant it to, about the dog he’d never gotten to say goodbye to.
Until a shaft of light shot down from the ceiling.
He stopped mid-sentence, staring up.
He knew exactly what that meant.
“Uhh, it's happening! Uhh, guys! Get in here. Quick!” His voice climbed higher with every word.
Thor rushed into the room first, Hetty hot on his heels, a startled yelp caught in her throat, with Alberta and Flower rushing in behind them.
“The shaft!” Thor shouted, pointing upward. His wide eyes darted between Trevor and the glowing column of light from the ceiling.
Trevor stood frozen beneath the white light, blinking up at it in awe and disbelief.
“Trevor’s getting sucked off!” Flower exclaimed.
Trevor glanced around, wide-eyed. “I think I am?”
Alberta gasped, looking up at the light, mouth agape. Hetty stared at Trevor encased in the bright glow of the light, breath hitching—caught somewhere between panic and heartbreak. Her hands clutched her middle, as though she could physically hold herself together.
This could be the last time I see him. Fear seized her entire body, a dark pit settling in her stomach.
Hetty’s eyes flicked to Alberta’s, clutching her shoulder, trying to ground herself. Her other hand clenched into a tight fist at her side, fingernails digging into her palm—but she didn’t notice. Her heart thundered with a million tangled feelings: joy for him, devastation for herself. She didn’t know how to untangle what she felt—only that the thought of losing him forever made her want to scream.
“Last one in, first one out, boom! T-money,” Trevor said, half-laughing, forming his signature T with his hands.
“What about Carol?” Flower asked, offhandedly.
“I think he just talking about main eight,” Thor gently offered.
Trevor opened his arms, gazing around the room. “I’m gonna miss you all. What’s happening to me now—I want this for every single one of you.”
Hetty’s face was flushed, eyes glossy, lips trembling as she struggled to hold herself together. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, knuckles white. Uncharacteristically shaken, her usual composure lost, nowhere to be found, she reached out and clutched Alberta’s shoulder, breath caught somewhere between panic and disbelief.
She should have been happy.
Happy that her…friend? Housemate? Ex? She didn’t know what they were anymore. But regardless—this was supposed to be a good thing. Someone was being taken to a better place—whatever that meant. That was the point, wasn’t it?
But her heart splintered all the same.
Because Trevor had not been merely a friend. Not for a very long time.
Her body was rigid with it—grief and longing and something sharper still. An ache she couldn’t name fast enough before it overwhelmed her.
Unaware of the inner turmoil unfolding in front of him, Trevor kept talking—his voice carried farther than he realized. Drawn by the light and commotion, Sass and Isaac drifted in from nearby rooms.
Hetty barely heard him.
A flash of blue cut through the room.
“Wait—not yet!”
The words came out muffled, half-sob, half-plea as she surged forward and grabbed him, arms winding around him with desperate urgency. She kissed him—not with passion, but with necessity, conveying every pent-up emotion she felt for him.
When they parted, she stayed pressed against him, hands framing his face, breath unsteady.
“You can’t leave,” she whispered, eyes wide with panic. “I—I love you!”
The room went utterly still.
A sharp, collective gasp rippled through the room as Hetty’s words landed.
“Ooh, good gasp, everyone!” Isaac stage-whispered.
Flower and Alberta linked arms, sparing a glance at each other and murmuring a shared, reverent, “Aww!”
“Oh my god, it’s really happening now! A love confession while getting sucked off—you don’t see those every day.” Alberta whispered excitedly. But Hetty paid them no mind.
“You mean more to me than I can possibly put into words. I—” She swallowed, tears spilling freely now. “I know we’re not anything anymore, but you should know that…” Her breath hitched. “That I love you. I’m sorry I never said it before. The truth is, I didn’t know how to—and then we agreed to keep things casual, because that was easier than actually confronting our feelings. Or whatever this is.” She gestured weakly between them.
“You made this seemingly endless purgatory feel like a sliver of heaven,” she continued, the words tumbling out now. “You have shown me pleasure, affection, joy—hope—when I didn’t think that was possible. I didn’t think those were things I’d ever feel or was ever allowed to feel—until you stumbled into my life.”
Her hand slid to his chest, fingers splayed over his sternum.
“I know what it feels like to be alive because of you. And I cannot bear a world in which I do not even see you.” Her voice faltered. “The truth is: you see me, Trevor. You always have. And I have taken that for granted—you for granted. I shouldn't have—and I never will again. I just wish we had one more chance. Maybe then we’d get it right.”
“Hetty—” Trevor’s voice broke, tears welling in his eyes.
She cut him off gently, her chin lifting as if composure alone might hold her together.
“Anyway,” she said softly. “I know this can’t change anything. But I wanted you to know, before you go, that you mean more to me than you could ever possibly fathom—I’m sorry for only telling you now.”
She reached up, cupping his cheek.
“I will miss you dearly, Trevor. Even your infuriating quips. Your dreadful jokes. And yes—even that absurd hand gesture you insist upon. And that ghastly tie. And, God forbid, your bare legs.” She shook her head fondly.
“I’m glad I met you, Trevor Lefkowitz.”
Trevor huffed a shaky breath, swiping at a tear that slipped free. “Well,” he tried, voice unsteady, “that’s… quite the power move—dropping all that on me right before I get sucked off.”
Despite herself, Hetty rolled her eyes.
Of course, he would try to make light of it. Yet her inner thoughts kept spiraling, begging for him to stay—to somehow defy all ghost logic.
Please don’t go. I would take him in any capacity. A glance. A presence. Merely knowing he was near would be enough.
Alberta stopped short. “Wait. Shouldn’t Trevor be in mid-air by now?”
“Look!” Thor suddenly shouted. “The snail! It’s floating.” He pointed at the snail, which was indeed slowly levitating within the glowing ray of light.
Trevor and Hetty looked at the snail, then at each other. Without letting go of her waist, Trevor shifted sideways, pulling her with him out of the ray of light.
The pressure in Hetty’s chest eased, still lingering in the pit of her stomach, still tight with adrenaline, her body not quite believing it yet. Hetty blushed, suddenly bashful, fingers curling into Trevor’s tie until she flattened her palm over his heart. She took a steadying breath.
“You’re still here,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I guess I am.”
That was all it took.
Hetty surged forward, hugging him fiercely before kissing him again, unafraid.
Alberta, Sass, Thor, and Flower watched, teary-eyed and a little stunned, to see Hetty allow herself to be this open in front of everyone. As the kiss grew decidedly less PG, the group started to avert their eyes, looking increasingly uncomfortable every second. Alberta winced. Isaac shielded his eyes and turned his back at the sight. Sass muttered something about needing ghost bleach for his brain.
“So…they’re back together again?” Sass commented, pointedly not looking at the couple.
Alberta rolled her eyes and replied dryly. “Ya think? They never broke up to begin with anyway, it was all a ruse so they could sneak around again.”
Sass questioningly looked at Alberta. “I thought they broke up when Hetty tried to get with Thor to get sucked off? God, I must really be slipping.” Crossing his arms, Sass frowned, considering Hetty and Trevor’s dynamic over the past few months, trying to figure out how he missed it again.
In a moment of lucidity, Flower shrugged, “Man, these guys are exhausting. Talk about unbearable romantic toxicity.” She continued to roll her eyes and cross her arms while everyone looked at her, shocked.
“Yes, I suppose that is an astute observation, Flower…Shockingly.” Isaac hesitantly responded, glancing at Alberta and Sass, sort of shrugging.
“Umm…yeah. No kidding, Isaac.” Alberta sarcastically piped in.
While the others dissolved into bickering, Hetty and Trevor stayed wrapped in their own quiet bubble. As they parted for air, Hetty ran her hands through his hair, bringing them to cup his cheeks. She looked at him, teary-eyed.
“That was too close,” she breathed, half-laughing, half-sobbing.
“Don’t worry,” Trevor said, rubbing her back. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”
Hetty nodded, letting go of his cheeks and sliding her hands down to fiddle with his tie.
“It’s getting a little loud in here, don’t you think?” she murmured, tilting her head toward the group bickering on the other side of the room.
Trevor spared them a quick glance before smirking and pulling Hetty closer, whispering in her ear. “Wanna get out of here?”
Hetty’s breath caught in her throat, her heart beating faster (somehow) as warmth fluttered through her chest and down her body. Without sparing a glance at the others—no hesitation—she grabbed his hand as they slipped through the nearest wall and hurried down to their basement room.
By the time Pete wandered in, hands on his hips and smiling, the space they’d occupied was noticeably empty.
“Hey guys! What’re you looking at?” Pete asked cheerfully. “Ooh, anything good?”
Sass gestured vaguely toward the empty air where Hetty and Trevor were. “It’s a long story but—”
“Wait a minute,” Isaac cut in, looking around. “Where are they? Did anybody see them leave?”
The low bickering immediately escalated into a full-blown argument, growing louder by the second. When Hetty and Trevor heard the commotion, they grabbed each other's hands and ran—already on the same page.
“Alright, everybody, that’s enough.” Pete clapped, stepping in front of the group. When they ignored him, he clapped louder. “Excuse me! Can I have everyone’s attention? Can everyone, please, calm down! I’m sorry, but I’m at a loss here—can someone explain to me what the heck is going on?”
Alberta rolled her eyes, suppressing a laugh. “Basically, we thought Trevor was getting sucked off, but it turns out it was the ghost snail instead, and—”
“—and Hetty and Trevor declared their undying love for each other!” Flower cut in. “Or maybe it’s dead love? Dying love? Dead, undying love? Undead love? No, that sounds like a zombie thing. Wait—do ghost snails feel love?” Flower continued, going down an acid-fueled rabbit hole over the semantics.
“A ghost snail?” Pete blinked. “Jeez Louise. How much did I miss?!?”
The others collectively decided they’ll deal with this new development tomorrow. None of them wanted to imagine what the couple had run off to do—or risk interrupting them. Lord knew Sam couldn’t afford the amount of therapy they’d need after being scarred from accidentally walking in on Trevor and Hetty.
Sass sighed, watching the chaos unfold. “Man, for a house full of the dead…they sure know how to make drama live on.”