Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"MARCUS! Watch out!"

Matilda opens her eyes. Her vision is blurry. She lifts her head from her chest, groaning at the sharp pain on the left side of her head. She rests her head back against the headrest of her boyfriend's passenger seat. Her boyfriend!

"Marcus?" She croaks, turning her head slightly towards the driver's seat. "Marcus?"

Her boyfriend sits unconscious; hands strewed across his lap.

Matilda reaches for Marcus' hand, feeling for his pulse, her first aid instincts overtaking her panic. A sigh of relief escaping her lips as she feels it. His pulse is there, although weak. Her mobile phone had been in her hand before everything went dark. Her hands feel around for the device, not wanting to move her head too much, for she most definitely has a concussion. It's no use; she can't find it. She remembers they had driven past a gateway for a large manor house. If she could only climb out of the car, she could ask for help.

Unbuckling her seatbelt, she climbs out; the car door must have opened in the crash. She zips her winter coat up to her chin, hoping for added protection around her neck, and she sets off slowly. Once she makes it back on the road, she can see the gateway.

She stumbles down the road, wishing a car would drive past and help her. Every step she takes sends shooting pains down her neck. Her vision is becoming even blurrier as she becomes dizzier.

"Button House," she mutters when she reaches the gateway and reads the sign.

Every part of her body is aching. She pauses for a moment to lean against the brick post. Closing her eyes, she takes a few deep breaths. Upon opening them again, she glances down the driveway, spotting a small car. She hopes more than anything that the owners are home.

"I can do this," she breathes, limping on her way down the driveway.

Blood, sweat, and now tears are dripping down her face. The pain is almost too much to handle. She dares not reach up to feel her head wound. Right now, she has only one thought on her mind, 'help'!

"NO, B4, B4," Robin argues with Julian, who had moved his chess piece to the wrong square on the board.

"It's exhausting," Julian complains. "I don't see why we can't play like we usually do." He mutters to himself, exerting more energy in moving Robin's piece to B4.

Robin grunts, "B4," and nods.

"Alison, Alison!" Kitty follows behind her best friend. "Do you think I might be able to read the next page of my book?" She asks. "The last page ended in quite the cliff hanger, and in the middle of the sentence," Kitty explains her strife as they wander through the common area.

"Absolute filth, I will not tolerate such literature in this house," Lady Button exclaims, following behind them.

"Not enjoying this one, eh, Fanny," Julian smirks.

Lady Button gasps in indignation, "How dare you?" She turns, walking through the nearest wall.

"Must you, Julian," Pat sends his fellow ghost a disappointed frown, standing to follow Fanny.

"There be a girl bleeding on 'er 'ead outside," Mary announces from the window. "Oh, we be 'aving a new friend." She adds, excited.

The rest of the ghosts eagerly rush to the window.

"I order you all to step aside." The Captain's request goes unheard.

"You couldn't even order a dog to do your bidding," Thomas tells him, turning to gaze out at their visitor.

"Now, Mary, when you say 'girl' just how young are you talking?" Julian adjusts his tie, attempting to peer over the other's heads.

"She looks to be the age of twenty-five," Thomas stares longingly. "Her blonde wavy hair frames her fair face, though the wound upon her temple bleeds red as her lips, for never has one seen such beauteous grace from a lady, from nature, or the moon's eclipse." He sighs.

"Moonah eclipse?" Robin stares up at the cloudless sky. "No, Moonah," he frowns at Thomas.

Julian rolls his eyes, losing interest.

"She no dead," Robin claims, stepping away.

"She certainly looks dead," Thomas counters, almost hopeful.

"Me here longer. Me know when people dead." Robin boasts, returning to the chessboard.

"I know when people dead," Thomas corrects the eldest member of their group. "Are dead? He corrects himself with frustration.

"Who's dead?" Kitty asks, wandering back through behind Alison.

"Alison, it appears a young woman has died nearby. She's making her way across our driveway." The Captain rocks forward on his toes; his swagger stick gripped behind his back.

Alison turns on her heel, running straight through Kitty, who doubles over in pain. "A dead woman," Alison frowns.

The other ghosts step aside as she rushes to the window, peering down as the young woman trips over, onto her knees. From her vantage point, Alison can see her blonde hair drenched in blood, running down her face.

"Poor thing," Mary sighs.

"So, what happens now?" Alison wonders aloud. She had been curious about how the ghosts accept new members into their group. "Does someone go introduce themselves?" Alison asks, scanning the ghosts' faces behind her.

"Not it!" They all exclaim, one after the other.

"Alison, as the most present occupant of Button House, perhaps she will be less frightened if you were to greet her." The Captain suggests.

"I can't; I'm not a ghost. I can't explain all this." Alison's eyes widen as she gestures to her ghostly friends.

"We've all had a go or two at comforting the newly dead." The Captain explains. " I did Patrick." He adds, then clears his throat. "In that, I helped him settle that first day, showed him around the place, to his room." He says, chin high.

"I vowed never again after Julian," Thomas announces, glaring at the man relaxed across the sofa. The man in question shrugs, smirking across the room at Thomas.

"I'm technically the youngest," Julian announces, then gestures to his lack of trousers when he gains their attention.

"If someone were to hold me, I'll give it a go." Humphrey's head says.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Alison awkwardly admits. "Fine, I'll do it." She sighs dejectedly, she heads out the common area, towards the front door. "What should I say? " She asks, feeling both parts nervous and excited.

"Ask what her names be," Mary tells her.

"I can do that." Alison nods.

"Do what?" Mike asks, sat at the kitchen table with a cuppa tea and the daily newspaper.

"We have a new tenant."

"Oh," he nods, lifting his mug up. "What?" he asks.

"New ghost. She looks mid-twenties, head injury, possible car accident I'm thinking" Alison explains. "I'm going to say hello."

"Good luck." Mike goes back to his paper, now used to his wife's ghostly abilities.

"Okay, guys, you stay here. We don't want to scare her." Alison tells them, before stepping outside, closing the door behind her.

"She's talking about you, Robin." Julian comments, walking into the kitchen to read the newspaper over Mike's shoulder.

"No, you," Robin follows behind, childishly.

The woman is leaning against the broken fountain, trying to regain some energy to stand and attempt walking again. Alison takes a deep breath, walking over to her.

"Hi, my name is Alison." She crouches down to the woman's level. "What's your name?"

"I need help." She says breathlessly. "Our car, we hit a tree, something came out of woods, please, my boyfriend." She turns back towards the gate, where she came from, but winces from her head injury.

"Of course, what's your name?" Alison asks again.

"Matilda, my boyfriend is Marcus." She answers. "Are you calling an ambulance?"

"Look, Matilda, there's no easy way to say this, but... I'm afraid you're dead." Alison breaks the news.

Matilda stares up at her, sudden fear in her eyes. "I'm not dead." She uses the fountain to lift herself up to her feet. "I need help, my head; there's blood." She lifts her hand up, wiping the blood from her eyes.

Alison frowns, the ghosts she knew looked the same as when they died. Pat can't remove his arrow. Mary can't clean the soot from her face. Most importantly, Thomas can't clean the blood from his waistcoat. Matilda shouldn't be able to clean the blood from her eyes. Hands quivering, Alison reaches out slowly for the other woman's arm, gently lowering her fingers to grace her forearm. A shiver runs down her spine.

"MIKE!" She screams, wrapping her arms around Matilda, helping her towards the house.

Mike bursts out the front door, the newspaper still in hand. "Who's that?"

"She's not dead, call an ambulance!" Alison shouts.

Mike stands frozen in a panic for a moment, then runs back into the kitchen as Alison helps Matilda in behind him, sitting her in a chair at the table. She gently brushes Matilda's hair out of her face. Her injury runs around from her hairline to behind her ear. Alison grabs a tea towel, applying pressure to her wound.

"I need an ambulance," Mike says, phone to his ear.

"What's happening, Alison?" Kitty asks as the ghosts follow her in.

"She's not dead." Alison quickly answers, soothing Matilda.

"We not be getting new friend?" Mary asks.

"It appears not." The Captain grumbles.

"Me say not dead." Robin jumps up and down.

"Well done, Robin." Pat grins, having joined the group again.

"Clean that girl's face; she's bleeding all over the kitchen table." Lady Button complains.

"If she were to die, Alison, she should not be covered in blood. No one wishes to spend eternity covered in blood." Thomas sighs dramatically, hand covering his musket ball wound.

"They're going to be ten minutes," Mike says, phone in the crook of his neck.

"My boyfriend, he's still in the car," Matilda mutters, leaning back in the chair.

Mike looks at Alison.

"Their car crashed into a tree." She explains.

Mike goes back to the '999' operator on the phone to relay the new information.

"Alison, clean her up," Fanny repeats.

"Okay, okay, Matilda, I'm going to clean your face a bit." Alison places the tea towel down.

She grabs a mixing bowl from the cupboard, filling it with warm water and soaking a flannel. She returns, wrings the flannel and gently cleans the blood from Matilda's cheek, eyes and forehead.

"Much better," Fanny pouts approvingly.

Alison picks the tea towel back up as a thin trickle of blood starts down her forehead. She cleans it back up, applying the pressure back on the wound.

"Oh, goodness, Mike, how long?" She asks, seriously starting to worry. The wound is deeper than she expected.

"Five minutes," he answers.

"Why did you think I was dead?" Matilda asks, her head becoming heavier in Alison's hand.

"I don't want to scare you, but you don't look too lively right now." She tries to lighten her mood.

"Can you see dead people?" Matilda coughs a laugh, blood spluttering onto her chin. Alison rushes to wipe it away.

"Sixth Sense." Pat grins. "I hope she stays. She sounds like a hoot."

"She's not dead, Patrick." The Captain frowns.

"'Course not." Pat lowers his head in embarrassment.

"You could say I'm haunted," Alison turns to the group behind her, sending them a 'be quiet' look.

Matilda looks behind Alison but doesn't manage to lock eyes with any of the ghosts. She gives up looking, tiredness taking over as her head falls back.

"Matilda?" Alison calls her name.

The woman groans, eyes rolling back in her head.

"Mike, help me lie her down." Alison calls her husband.

Together, they lift Matilda from the chair, lying her down on the kitchen floor.

"Oh, isn't she a pretty one?" Humphrey's head states, somehow having found his way onto the kitchen floor himself.

"Oh, Go- Humphrey," Alison jumps in shock. "Can someone pick up Humphrey?" She asks, using the flannel to apply pressure to Matilda's head injury.

"Wee, woo, wee, woo." Robin starts screaming.

"Isn't this fun?" Kitty giggles. "Wee, woo." She attempts to harmonise with Robin.

"Guys, please," Alison shouts, shaking the unconscious woman's shoulders gently.

"What Robin is trying to say, is that the ambulance is coming." The Captain explains.

"The ambulance is coming," she repeats to Mike.

"I'll go meet them," Mike leaves.

"Matilda, can you hear me?" Alison asks softly. "Matilda? The ambulance is here."

The ghosts all part for the paramedics to usher into the kitchen.

"Please, step aside, ma'am." A paramedic gently pushes Alison out of the way.

Mike pulls her into a hug. "I hope she doesn't die."

"Mike!" She leans back to stare up at him.

"I just mean, we don't need any more ghosts in this place. Well, you don't." He explains, but Alison shakes her head, burying it back in her husband's neck and sighing deeply. "The phone operator said they sent a second ambulance to the boyfriend in the car." He adds.

"Good, Matilda was worried about him." She turns to watch the paramedics.

They've removed her large coat to check her chest for any injuries, but as far as Alison can see, her only injury is the head wound. One paramedic is wrapping bandages over a gauze as the other leaves to fetch the gurney. She had heard them radio to the hospital that their patient's pulse was becoming faint; they would be fifteen minutes and would need a bed free in the Intensive Care Unit.

The ghosts are stood around Alison and Mike, watching intensely as the second paramedic returns with the gurney and a board to manoeuvre Matilda onto. He passes a brace to the first paramedic, to attach around the patient's neck.

Without warning, Matilda bolts upright. Alison gasps loudly in shock, trying to step back but ends up stepping onto Mike's feet, causing him to yell in pain.

The paramedics look over, surprised.

"Are you okay, love?" the first paramedic asks.

"The shock just hit me, sorry," she apologises.

"Aw, she dead now," Robin complains.

"That's a shame," Pat sighs, patting Robin's shoulder.

"Oh, my, goodness," Matilda's eyes flitter back and forth between the nine faces stood in front of her.

"Ah, yes," The Captain nods, gesturing at the woman sat in front of them on the kitchen floor. "I do believe she can see us now."

"What gave it away?" Pat sarcastically asks the Captain.

"Well, there's certainly no need for that tone of voice," the Captain rolls his shoulders back, standing tall.

"Sorry about this lot, Miss Matilda," Humphrey's head apologises, gaining the woman's attention, who then proceeds to scream in terror at the sight before her, scrambling to her feet.

"Humphrey, what did we say?" Alison sighs, regretting it immediately when the paramedics look at her again, as they roll Matilda's dead body onto the board. "Sorry, just talking to my husband," she pats Mike's chest.

"Yeah, I'm Humphrey," Mike lies dreadfully.

The paramedics quickly go about their job, lifting Matilda onto the gurney.

"What's happening? Alison, please tell me what's happening?" Matilda begs the one person she recognises, walking over to the woman who had helped her.

Alison looks over to the gurney, and Matilda follows her gaze, shrieking when she comes face to face with herself.

"Am I dead?" Matilda follows the paramedics out to the ambulance. "Marcus? What about Marcus? Where is he?" She asks, but the paramedics don't answer her.

"I'm afraid they can't hear you?"

Matilda turns to find a short man with part of an arrow sticking out of his neck. "Bloody hell," she averts her eyes.

"Sorry, it's not easy looking at me, is it?" He sighs.

"No, it's not," she awkwardly looks back, feeling strangely calm in his presence.

"I'm Pat, been here since 1984," he holds his hand out, grinning sincerely.

Matilda looks up over his head at the gathering of people, from apparently many different periods, outside Button House.

"I'm dead?" She asks.

"Hi dead, nice to meet you," Pat jokes.

Matilda's laugh turns into a sob. She rubs her face, her hands coming off clean. She reaches up to touch her wound, but her fingers meet the gauze and bandage the paramedic had dressed her head with before she died.

"A little joke to lighten the mood there, but yes, you're dead, we all are." He gestures behind him. "Except Alison and Mike, they own Button House, but Alison can see and hear us, so it's not all bad."

Matilda nods, not entirely sure this is real, or a coma induced dream, well, rather a nightmare. If she is in a coma, she doesn't want to stress herself into actually dying, so she might as well go along with it. She's certainly had weirder dreams.

"Hello Pat, my name is Matilda." She holds her own hand out, and they shake. "Nice to meet you."

Chapter Text

Pat had guided her into the common area for 'food club'. It's all too overwhelming. She sits in a chair, staring into the fireplace, trying to come up with a logical explanation to why she is here. All the while, the so-called ghosts of Button House discuss which foods they favoured and missed from when they were alive. Matilda still felt alive. She's hopeful this is a coma and she would wake up in a few days or weeks with an amazing novel idea.

"Matilda, what's your favourite food?" Pat asks, having gone around the group, asking the same question.

"I, erm-" She stutters.

"Speak up; a lady never mumbles," the Edwardian woman sat pin straight on the couch snaps at her.

"I-" She begins again, feeling all eyes staring into her soul. "I need some space," she stands, quickly vacating the room, and walking straight through the front door out into the cold, late afternoon air.

Not that she could feel it. She couldn't feel anything. There's no pain from her head wound, and there's no shivering from the cold. That was a blessing at least since the paramedics had removed her coat. Matilda knows there isn't likely to be anything left on the country road to indicate a crash had occurred there, but she wanted to go back to the site anyway. She needs to be close to Marcus.

Matilda sets off down the driveway. It was a lot darker now as it nears the end of October. She hopes she can wake up from this nightmare before Christmas. As she nears the gatepost, she cranes her neck, trying to see the crash site over the broken wall, but when she reaches the end of the drive, she finds herself turned around walking back towards the house.

"What?" Matilda mutters, turning back around and trying to jog onto the road, only for the same thing to happen. "NO!" She cries, trying, again and again, tears streaming down her face, as she runs faster and faster, in her attempt to return to Marcus, and escape this hellhole.

On the first floor, Pat watches with unease from the window as their newest resident of Button House attempts to leave the grounds, over and over again.

"I should go help her," Pat states, feeling a sense of obligation, since he had been the first, and only one, to introduce himself.

"Leave her be, Pat. She asked for some time alone." The Captain reminds him, eyes glued to the laptop where Alison had put on a Netflix documentary, 'World War II in colour'.

Lady Button and Thomas have sat themselves either side of the Captain, feigning disinterest in the programme, but still paying attention. Kitty had somehow convinced Julian to turn the pages of her current book between games of golf on Alison's phone. Alison and Mike were in their bedroom, no doubt discussing current events. Mary and Robin were off in the garden, doing whatever they do when they disappear together. And who knows where Humphrey had gotten to, his head or his body. It didn't seem like anyone else was going to help their distressed housemate.

"It's my fault, we should have postponed food club, or cancelled it altogether. She needed time to adjust," Pat sighs, his heart heavy as Matilda drops to the ground, hugging her knees as she appears to be crying. "That's it, I'm going," Pat announces.

"If you're going will you just go, Pat, some of us are trying to watch this television programme," Thomas sighs, without taking his eyes off the screen.

"The lack of empathy is astounding," Pat reprimands them before storming off.

"Matilda?" Pat stands a few feet from the young woman. She's leaning against the gatepost, facing the road and quite audibly crying. "Oh, dear," he sighs sadly when Matilda looks up, her cheeks tear-stained.

"I'm fine," Matilda reaches up to wipe her eyes to find them already dry. She frowns, running her hands down her face to find no trace of her tears.

"Yes, that happens," Pat tells her, sitting down beside her. "We can't change our state of being for too long, so tears quickly dry, we don't get sweaty, our hair returns to it's perfectly styled do," his hand flutters up to gesture his own seventies styled hair, making Matilda chuckle. "And if I were to remove this arrow from my neck, it would return but moments later." He smiles sadly.

Matilda stares at the arrow, "I'm sorry, am I selfish? I'm just struggling to understand what's going on here. I wanted to be close to Marcus." She sighs. "I'm complaining again, sorry, there are much worse ways to spend however long we're here for, and I'm assuming none of you can leave either?" She asks.

Pat shakes his head, "It's a lot to take in, Matilda, but you'll get there." His face lightens up, "What's good though, is that we've all gone through the same thing, and we all complained about it, but we had each other to get through it. If you ever need a shoulder, we're here for you," he remembers his fellow ghosts currently watching the television. "Well, I'm here for you, anyway."

Matilda smiles sadly, "Thank you, Pat." She faces back down the drive, chin resting on her knees.

"And I am sorry for throwing you in at the deep end back there, with food club." He apologises.

"Do you have a lot of clubs?" She asks, turning to face him.

"Yeah, we've had tons over the years, but once you've been around a few decades, you run out of things to talk about," Pat explains. "With you here now, and when you feel like it, you can tell us about all the interesting things you did in your life." He suggests.

"I'm only twenty-six," she scoffs "I've not done anything exciting. Marcus and I have booked a holiday to Italy in the summer actually. Three weeks backpacking from Palermo to Milan." She feels her mood brighten as she thinks about the future; she just hopes she can wake up and recover before then.

"Well, any old story is more interesting than the repeated rambles of that lot," Pat points out, nodding back to the house.

Matilda chuckles, leaning her head against the man's shoulder with a sigh. "Thank you, Pat. You've been the calming presence that I need." She tells him.

Pat's eyes widen with pride; he lifts his hand to pat her head soothingly. Memories of his son, Daley, flood back to the forefront of his mind. He feels himself tearing up and sniffles to prevent the inevitable.

"Are you alright, Pat?" Matilda asks, glancing up at him.

"It's been a while since I've had someone to comfort like this. I had a son, Daley; he was only seven when I died, he's got his own son now. He's got my name," he grins. "They visit once a year, on my death day."

"Do you celebrate your death day?" Matilda asks curiously.

"No, not really, it can be upsetting" He explains. "Actually, you're taking your day of death quite well."

"To be honest, Pat, I'm quite convinced I'm in a coma at the hospital and all this is some nightmare," Matilda admits, staring back off into the woods.

"I'm not sure how I can convince you otherwise," Pat says. "Only time will tell."

"At least you didn't dismiss it," Matilda smiles.

Pat smiles, suspecting they'll be there a while, he begins telling her stories of his time as a scoutmaster until the sky grows darker still. "Shall we head back?" He asks. "I can show you around the house."

Matilda nods, allowing Pat to help her to her feet. She had lost track of time, absentmindedly listening to Pat's stories. She was always getting lost in her own head, daydreaming the world away. It was how she and Marcus had met at university. She pauses when they reach the fountain, spotting dark spots on the wall where she had been leaning. Walking over, she realises that's her blood.

"Matilda?" Pat calls her attention.

She turns, smiling sincerely at the man. "I'll just be a minute; you go ahead."

As soon as Pat is inside the house, she sits on the fountain wall staring up at the clear night sky. She has always found the vast nothingness of space to be very calming. It's reassuring that, even though she's stuck in this hellish nightmare for the foreseeable future, the world is still spinning and moving forward. Matilda takes a deep breath, feeling very content all of a sudden. Perhaps the nurses have just given her a shot of morphine. Closing her eyes, she sighs, "I can do this."

"Look out below!" A voice calls from above.

She opens her eyes just in time to see a head fall into the fountain, and not make a splash. She scrambles to her feet, screaming.

"I'm sorry, Miss Matilda." The head speaks from beneath the water.

Matilda squeezes her eyes shut. "You're not real, not real." She mutters to herself, covering her ears to stop hearing the head's voice.

Pat had been catching up the Captain on the progress he had made with Matilda when they heard the frightening scream from outside. The two men share a look, before dashing out of the front door.

"We be sorry," Mary is trying to tell the new woman, who has her ears covered and is talking to herself.

"What the bally hell is going on here?" The Captain heads straight to Mary and Robin, both of whom start blaming the other.

Pat rushes over to Matilda, placing a gentle hand on her wrist, trying to pull it away so he can talk to her.

She screams again, opening her eyes as she jumps back in fear.

"It's just me, Matilda." He tells her. "You're okay. What happened?"

"The- the head," she stutters, pointing to the fountain.

"That's Humphrey," he explains.

"It has a name!" she exclaims.

"Course he has a name, he's a person."

"Bit rude, innit," Humphrey comments.

"Make him stop," she cries, hands covering her ears again.

"Yeah, Humphrey, I don't think you talking is helping, mate," Pat tells him.

"I'll zip it then," he hums.

"Robin, go get Humphrey," the Captain orders.

"Go get Humphrey," Robin complains, stomping over to the fountain and lifting Humphrey's dry head out of the water.

"I apologise, Miss Matilda," Humphrey calls behind as he's carried back into the house, Mary following after them.

"Well, that's that, Matilda, perhaps it's time we retired to our rooms for the night," the Captain suggests. "It's been quite an exciting day."

"Can we sleep?" Matilda asks, unsure since she's already convinced, she's unconscious in a coma. "Because I'm exhausted."

"Ah, yes," The Captain nods. "That's to be expected." He rocks on his toes, attempting to sound understanding, but failing.

"I can help you chose your room, Matilda." Pat offers.

"Thank you, Pat." She nods, following him closely into the house.

Pat points out everything he believes to be of interest as he guides her down the corridor of the first floor but Matilda is still too overwhelmed to pay attention.

"Who was the war officer?" Matilda asks, interrupting Pat midsentence.

"That's the Captain. He can be stern and a little bossy, but he keeps us all in line. I don't know the sort of trouble we'd be in without him." Pat adjusts his glasses.

"Just the Captain?" She asks.

"Yeah, he likes to keep to himself, but he's there whenever you need him."

"He sounds like a typical war captain," she comments, remembering her university module on European conflicts of the Early Twentieth Century.

"Most of us sleep on this floor." Pat goes back to his tour. "There's a couple of spare bedrooms down that end," he points. "Or there's one on the ground floor, and one on the second floor, which is technically the attic." Pat lists off the vacant rooms.

"Could I have the one in the attic?" She asks, excitement taking over. "I wanted the attic bedroom at home as a teenager, but my parents gave it to my brother." She explains.

"What's your brother called?" Pat asks. "It's important to remember, Matilda." He tells her, guiding her up to the attic bedroom, beside the attic library.

"Mathew." She tells him. "We never got on. He was three years older than me, but, at the end of the day, we always looked out for each other."

"Well, that's what siblings are for, aren't they?" Pat chuckles. "Actually, I don't know. The closest I had was my best mate, who my wife had an affair with and then married after I died." He shrugs.

"Sounds like a brother to me," she jokes, stopping as they reach her new bedroom.

Pat quirks his head with curiosity but doesn't question her. "Well," he goes to tap the door, forgetting as his hand falls through. "Not too many of the others venture this far up on the day-to-day. Just be careful of Humphrey's body." He warns.

"The head's body is here too." She states, wide-eyed.

"Oh, yeah, he tends to wander around like a headless chicken," Pat smiles.

Matilda grins, "You remind me of my dad. He was one of the happiest people I ever knew."

Pat squeaks, "Sleep well, Matilda." Then abruptly leaves.

Matilda watches him leave, then turns to face her new bedroom door. She wonders how she will open it when she remembers she can walk through doors, as she had earlier with the front door. Her brain really was trying to convince her that she was a ghost. She closes her eyes and steps through the door.

Opening her eyes, she scans the room. A double bed against the same wall as the door, two bedside tables either side, a wardrobe in the alcove beside the window overlooking the front of the house, and a chest of drawers against the chimney breast. There are three photo frames atop the drawers. Matilda walks over to inspect them. She recognises the older Edwardian woman in the frame on the left but doesn't recognise the man in the right frame or anyone in the family picture in the centre. She hopes her brain isn't twisted enough to imagine the ghost of a child. That's just too sad.

She glances out of the window, but it's far too dark for her to see anything. With little else to do right now, she perches on the end of her new bed and takes a deep breath. She needs to rest. Shuffling back, she lies her head on a plump pillow, and falls quickly asleep, despite her inner turmoil.

Back in the common area, Pat rushes in, full of excitement, interrupting an argument between Julian and Thomas.

"You'll never guess what, guys. Matilda said I remind her of her dad," he grins. "I always wanted a daughter, but Carol just wanted the one child, and I respected that, but I'd wanted a big family. I suppose that's why I became a scoutmaster," He reflects.

Lady Button stands, taking her leave for the peace and quiet of her room. Once Pat gets started, it can be a while before he stops, so gradually, the rest of them follow in Fanny's footsteps, off to their own bedroom.

"It's quite admirable of you to take young Matilda under your wing, Patrick," the Captain states, adjusting his tie.

"Thank you, Cap," Pat smiles. "It's exciting, isn't it?"

The Captain raises his eyebrows inquisitively.

"Having a new resident? Think of all the stories she'll be able to tell. It's been a while since any of us have had anything new to offer during our clubs." Pat explains.

"Quite," the Captain clears his throat, walking to the window to look over where the young woman had been alive on the driveway, only this afternoon. "I overheard you two talking on the second floor." He admits.

Put blushes beside him. "I didn't say anything wrong, did I?" He asks, not wanting to have insulted the Captain.

"Not at all, Patrick. You were both spot on. A typical war captain." He rocks forward on to his toes, then back again.

"I meant what I said; you're usually the first person I go to with a problem," Pat tells him.

"Thank you, Pat," he hides his small smile by walking into the centre of the room. "We shall have her introduce herself to the group tomorrow morning. I shall expect a good night's sleep has done her a world of good; we can see what she has to say for herself." He states, clearing his throat.

"Great idea, Cap," Pat grins. "I'll rally the guys right after breakfast," he giddily walks away.

"Right, well, good night, Patrick," the Captain tells the other man, marching off in the opposite direction towards his own bedroom.

Chapter Text

"Matilda!"

Matilda scrunches her face, trying to remain asleep, but a smile graces her face either way. She rolls over in bed, sleepily groaning, "Marcus," as she reaches out for him.

"Good Lord, no, Matilda."

Matilda opens her eyes, finding the Captain stood at the side of her bed. She jumps up in surprise, "Sorry." She apologises without reason. "No, wait, what are you doing in my room?" She asks.

"It's morning," the Captain explains.

"It's not like I have any plans." She sits crossed legged atop the bed.

The Captain raises an eyebrow, "We'd like to formally introduce ourselves, and you, in turn, can tell us a bit about yourself."

Matilda didn't much like being woken up or told what to do. Still, in this case, it was worthwhile as she was curious about the different characters of Button House.

"Let's go, then." She climbs off the bed, following behind the Captain. "Don't expect me to wake up this early every day." She warns, trying to have some good-natured banter.

"Now listen here, Matilda," the Captain pauses on the landing between the second and first floors, holding his swagger stick out as a barrier. "We adhere to a strict schedule at Button House, and I will not tolerate laziness, not in my ranks." He tells her sternly.

"Ranks?" She questions. "Look, Captain, I'm not saying that I won't participate in all the clubs and activities you have planned. It honestly sounds like a fun way to spend my time here. However, my morning routine involves me not being woken up at... why does the clock say quarter past three?" She interrupts her own rambling when she notices the grandfather clock.

"Ah, yes, Fanny is forced to relive her death every morning at three o'clock," the Captain explains.

"It's three in the morning!" She exclaims.

"Of course not, we moved the hour hand backwards, so she's pushed out the window at eight o'clock." He clarifies.

"Did you say pushed?"

"Yes, by her husband."

"It's always the husband," she shakes her head disappointedly. "Anyway, as I was saying, please don't wake me up again, except for an emergency. Your morning routine does not involve me, this is my first day." She finishes her coherent ramblings.

"Deal, for now." The Captain holds his hand out.

Matilda smiles, shaking his hand.

"Firm grip." He nods appreciatively.

She snorts as they continue towards the common area. When they arrive, a young woman in a burgundy dress is standing beside the colonial columns.

"Hello!" Kitty sings. "My name is Katherine, but all my friends call me Kitty. You can call me Kitty too. I'm sure we'll become quick friends. Do you have a nickname, Matilda?"

"I- I-" Matilda stutters, mouth agape, eyes flickering between the many faces gathered around the couch, as they walk into the centre of the room.

"What did I tell you about mumbling?" The older lady snaps disapprovingly.

"Give the girl some space," the Regency man stands, strutting over to her, taking her hand. "I am Thomas Thorne," he introduces himself, ducking his head to kiss her knuckle.

"Hi?" She smiles, glancing at Pat nervously.

"Hello," Thomas grins. "And might I say, you look just like Rachel Green."

"You've seen Friends?" She asks, very amused at the thought of a group of ghosts sat around watching TV.

"Alright, mate, leave her alone, she's not a new toy," Pat stands. "Sit down everyone." He ushers the Captain and Thomas to sit on the surrounding chairs.

Kitty takes Matilda's hand, "There's nothing to worry about, Matilda, we're like one big family." Kitty pulls her in front of the group. "Fanny is like our grandmother," she gestures to the older woman sat on the couch.

Fanny scoffs in dismay, pouting and looking away.

"The Captain is our father, and Pat and Julian are our uncles." Kitty continues, pointing each person out to Matilda.

"Absolutely not," Captain shakes his head.

"I was the favourite uncle amongst my nephews," Julian comments. "Bought them both their first dirty magazine," he grins.

"Well, what does that make me?" Thomas asks, perching on the arm of the couch, beside Julian.

"Thomas, Mary and I are the children," Kitty swings her dress around, rather childishly. "Oh, Matilda, you can be our sister too."

"What bout me?" Robin asks.

"You're the pet dog, mate," Julian tells him. "That's why the bitches listen to you." He laughs.

"Bitches?" Matilda frowns.

"Our neighbour in the nearby village calls his dogs bitches," Pat clarifies. "Not sure they have actual names."

"Who am I then, in this family?" Humphrey's head asks.

Matilda flinches, nervously scanning the room for the decapitated head.

"Humphrey, you can be our grandfather?" Kitty giggles, covering her mouth.

"I'm not that old," he opposes. "I barely made it to my forties."

"It's difficult to tell when you're usually just a head, Humphrey," Pat tells him, looking beneath the coffee table beside Matilda.

She crouches slightly to glance below and catches a glimpse of the head, thankfully he's facing the other way. She stands tall, cautiously sidestepping away from the coffee table, standing next to the fireplace.

"Right, now that we're all gathered," Pat begins. "I thought it would be nice for our newest member to introduce herself, Matilda?" He holds his hands out to present her to the group.

Kitty, Mary, Robin and Thomas clap as she steps in the centre of the rug.

"I'm clapping too, somewhere," Humphrey announces.

"Good luck," Pat gives her a double thumbs-up, picking Humphrey up from beneath the coffee table, and squeezing in between Julian and Fanny on the couch, Humphrey sat on his lap, staring at her.

Matilda stares wide-eyed at the head. She wasn't sure she would be able to get used to seeing a disembodied head around the house. Hopefully, she wouldn't be here for long. She lets her eyes wander from face to face and wonders why her unconscious mind would force her to speak in front of a group of strangers.

"Hello," she waves awkwardly. "I'm Matilda, Matilda Martin. I'm from Kent originally but moved to Surrey for university and never left. I'm a History teacher now, at the local secondary school."

Her audience 'oohs' at the mention of history.

"No doubt you teach the children about the war," the Captain announces, confidently with a smile.

"Erm, yes, both world wars," she answers.

"Does you teach about the Stuarts?" Mary asks.

"Well, we teach the Tudor period from Henry VIII to Elizabeth," she tries to ignore the head's cheer, but unsuccessfully flinches. "Then we look at James the first of England, and touch upon the witch trials."

"Oh, no," Pat turns to Mary, sat wincing on a nearby chair.

"We don't mention the trials," Julian tells her, an air of amusement around him.

Matilda takes in Mary's dress, sooty face and the plume of smoke emanating from her, "Oh, Mary, I am sorry."

"It's alright," she says, still tensing.

"Henry VIII once dined here," Humphrey announces.

"Really!" Matilda asks in fascination, turning and shuddering when she makes eye contact with the head. "That's interesting!" She grimaces, looking above him.

"Do you teach the Regency period?" Thomas asks her.

"That period is usually discussed in literature classes, because of the number of classics from then," Matilda explains.

"It certainly was a fruitful time for great works. I myself was a poet of the time," Thomas stares off.

"Like Byron?" She asks.

Thomas gasps, hurt, "Everyone knows of he, the one who stole my verses, and yet I am left unknown by the modern world."

"He plagiarised your work?" Matilda frowns.

"Yes, and had I not died so young, I would have taken him to the highest courts and made a name for myself." He assures them all.

"Byron died in Greece; I believe," Matilda comments the only fact she knows about this man's foe.

"Greece!" Thomas exclaims joyfully. "Why would one choose to die in Greece?" He chuckles.

"I doubt it was his choice," she shrugs. "There's nothing else for me to really tell you about myself." She adds, hoping she can sit down now.

"Do tell us about your boyfriend, Matilda," Kitty asks excitedly.

"I'm sure Matilda doesn't want-" Captain begins before being interrupted.

"Oh, yes, that would be nice," Mary agrees, and the majority of the room hums in agreement.

"Is he a noble gentleman?" Fanny asks.

"He's a history professor at the University of Surrey." She answers, and Fanny nods, impressed.

"Saucy," Julian comments. "The teacher-student kink was a favourite of Margot's." He adds.

"He wasn't my teacher at the time," she defends herself, with the tone of someone who has had to defend herself on this issue before. "His name is Marcus. We've been together six years, and he was a PhD student and a TA when we met," Matilda explains.

"And ye not yet be married?" Mary questions.

"No, we aren't," she grins. "I do think he was going to propose yesterday, though."

"How unfortunate!" Thomas cries.

"He told me he was taking us out to dinner, in the nearby village. He's been acting strange too, for the last couple of weeks. So yesterday afternoon, I spent hours getting ready. I styled my hair into these waves, put on some makeup and red lipstick, he likes it when I wear red lipstick, and I chose this outfit." She glances down at her black flared trousers, red turtleneck, and black blouse, realising she would be stuck in the same clothes for the time being. She doesn't mind, though; she had chosen well.

"I do like your trousers, Tilda," Kitty tells her, emphasising the nickname.

Matilda furrows her brow, "What?"

"Oh, I am sorry, Matilda," Kitty begins to cry. "I did hope we would become good friends."

"It's just, my dad used to call me Tilda," she explains. "If you want, you can call me Tilly," she suggests.

Kitty's tears disappear instantly, "Yes, that would be nice, Tilly," she giggles. "You can continue with your story, Tilly."

"Thank you, Kitty. Well, we were on our way into the village when I saw something run out of the woods. I called for Marcus to watch out and the next thing I know, I'm waking up with my head bleeding, and Marcus is unconscious beside me." She tears up. "I wish I knew if he was okay." She sobs.

Pat passes Humphrey's head to Julian, who, in turn, passes the head to Thomas, as Pat rushes to comfort their newest housemate. "There, there, maybe Alison can help?" He suggests, questioning the rest of the group.

Together, they burst through the walls into the kitchen where Alison and Mike had been enjoying a quiet conversation by themselves.

"That didn't last long," Alison comments with a sigh. "Matilda, how are you dealing, with all this?" She asks, nodding to the rest of the ghosts.

"It's a lot," she admits.

"Yeah, it took me a few days to come around, seeing them," Alison smiles.

"She thought we were figments of her imagination," Pat explains.

"What's to say your not? I studied history at university for four years, I could have easily have imagined all this," Matilda states.

"We're a lot more three dimensional than any characters you could imagine," Julian tells her.

"Alison, Matilda is still worried about her boyfriend, Marcus," Pat states, ignoring Julian. "Is there any way for you to find out about him?" He asks.

"I suppose I could google your accident. I'm sure the local paper would have picked it up as a story." Alison takes her phone out.

She searches for 'car accident', 'Surrey' and 'Matilda', and finds a news article. Her eyes scan for any mention of Marcus. Matilda, Pat and the Captain crowd behind her to read over her shoulder.

"It just says the driver and passenger were taken to the nearby hospital," Alison reads out.

"You could call the hospital," Matilda suggests.

"I'm not sure they would tell me anything," Alison says, apologetically.

"Please, can you try? If I'm stuck here for a while, I need to know Marcus made it out alive." She begs.

"Okay, okay, I'll call them," she groans, pulling up the number for the nearby hospital on her phone. "What his name?"

"Marcus Lloyd," Matilda smiles.

Alison dials the number. "Hi, I'm wondering if you could tell me about a patient you have, he was taken in yesterday afternoon after a car accident. His name is Marcus Lloyd. His girlfriend managed to come to our house for help, and we called the ambulances. I just want to check he's okay." She explains to the man who answers at the hospital.

"All I can tell you is Mr Lloyd's condition is currently stable." He answers.

"Thank you, that's a relief," Alison smiles, giving a thumbs up to Matilda. "Yeah, thanks, bye."

"What did they say?" Matilda asks, a hopeful smile on her lips.

"All they said was he's in a stable condition," she repeats.

"Oh, thank you," she sighs, turning and hugging Kitty.

Kitty gasps excitedly, "Thank you, Tilly."

Matilda takes a deep breath as she pulls away, "This is all quite a lot." She states.

"Shall we go for a walk down by the lake?" Kitty suggests.

"There's a lake here?" Matilda asks.

"Of course, Thomas enjoys drowning himself there when he's upset," Kitty explains.

"I wouldn't say I enjoy it," Thomas mutters.

Matilda grins, her chest bursting with happiness. Just knowing her boyfriend is alive has brightened her mood. Surely, this proves her coma theory as well. She and Kitty walk, arms linked through the front door and out across the driveway towards the gardens. Kitty is chatting to her quite animatedly about a ball she had attended back in the day. Matilda, once again, is lost in her own thoughts. She remembers hearing about people who have awoken from comas claiming to have heard people talking to them. A nurse, or perhaps a family member or friend, must have told her about Marcus to urge her to keep fighting. There was no other way for her to know. It all makes sense. She loves history, and so her brain has come up with this elaborate nightmare to keep her occupied while the nurses and doctors healed her. It would also explain why the hospital hadn't mentioned her own condition to Alison. Matilda starts laughing. She would continue to fight to stay alive and in a positive mindset for as long as it would take for her to wake up.

"Are you alright, Tilly?" Kitty asks, inspecting her curiously.

"I'm wonderful," she drops Kitty's arms, spinning around with her arms wide. "Well, besides the obvious," she points to her head.

"Oh, yes, you seem very happy." Kitty smiles, swinging the skirt of her dress around.

"I have every reason to be happy, Kitty. My boyfriend is alive and stable, he's going to get better." She sighs contently, falling onto the damp grass, not that she can feel it.

Kitty giggles, lowering herself to sit beside her. "That is wonderful. It's a shame you're dead, though." She mentions.

"Kitty!" Matilda complains, propping herself up on her arm. "I'm trying to stay positive." She smiles. "You're a very positive person."

"Thank you, Tilly," she rests her hand upon Matilda's. "Do tell me more about Marcus. Is he handsome?" she asks, leaning closer.

Matilda chuckles. Kitty reminds her of being a teenager at school, chatting with her friends about cute boys at school, or in their teen magazines.

"How old are you, Kitty?" She asks.

"A lady never tells her age," Kitty smiles swaying as she sits.

"Well, I'm twenty-six," Matilda tells her.

"Oh, we're almost the same age." Kitty beams. "I'm twenty-eight years old, or at least I was when I died." She whispers. "It's a secret, though."

"I won't tell anyone, Kitty," Matilda whispers in return, amused by this character. "It's nice to finally meet you, Kitty," she adds, lying back down on the grass. "I remember you from the kitchen with everyone yesterday. I really love your dress."

"It's burgundy!" She exclaims. "Alison and Mike hold weddings at Button House, and during the first wedding, I was a bridesmaid."

Matilda doesn't want to think about the logistics of a ghost being a bridesmaid, so she doesn't. She closes her eyes, basking in the morning sun.

"Tilly?" Kitty shyly asks. Matilda hums for her to continues, cracking an eye open. "Now that we're friends, would it be too much if I were to ask you for a hug?" She fiddles with the hem of her dress.

Matilda sits up, "Are you alright, Kitty?"

"Sometimes, a hug is just what I need to feel better, but no one here will hug me. Alison did offer once, but it wouldn't work." She sniffs.

"Well, Kitty, it just so happens I love hugs," Matilda leans over, wrapping her arms around the other woman.

"Oh, good, this is nice. I can't remember the last time I had a hug." She says cheerfully chirps.

Matilda chuckles, breaking apart, "I like you, Kitty. You remind me of my best friend, Natalie. I don't suppose I'm going to see her for a while." She sighs.

"I wouldn't worry, everyone dies eventually." Kitty tries to comfort her. "I can be your friend now, Tilly. Although not your best friend, Alison is my best friend." She explains.

"Thanks, you can have more than one best friend, though," Matilda suggests.

"I don't think so, Tilly, a best friend means they're the best. There can only be one best friend." She smiles as she clarifies.

"Good point, Kitty." She stands up, holding her hand out for Kitty to join her. "Shall we continue to this lake then?"

This time, Matilda listens to Kitty's stories, finding them all thoroughly entertaining, if not a little worrying as she learns more about Kitty's sister. In turn, Matilda tells her new friend stories of her childhood, growing up with an elder brother that she used to argue with all the time. Kitty was pleased to hear they had grown up in similar situations, albeit four-hundred years apart, apparently.

When they reach the lake, the two women walk along the old fishing pier, perching on the end. The water doesn't so much as ripple when their feet dangle down.

"Did you have a boyfriend, Kitty?" Matilda asks, turning to her friend.

Kitty gasps, covering her mouth as she falls into a fit of giggles, "Of course not, Tilly. My father had a lot of lands, but not enough money to put forward the dowry for both my sister and me." She explains.

"Did you ever fancy anyone, though?" She asks. "You talked about your parents holding balls at Button House. There must have been some eligible young men that caught your eye." She teases.

"Tilly, you are awful." Kitty covers her face as she blushes and giggles. "Was Marcus your first boyfriend?" She asks, obviously attempting to change the topic of conversation.

"No, Marcus was my second boyfriend," Matilda answers. "I met my first boyfriend at university too, though. We were nineteen and dated for seven months. He broke up with me after Christmas." She explains.

"Why would he do that? You're a wonderful person." Kitty tells her.

"That's kind of you, but it turned out, after he met my brother at Christmas, he had more of a thing for him. They're still together now, actually." Matilda mentions.

"How awful!"

"I felt a little betrayed at first, but I moved on, and they're happy." She shrugs. "And I'm happy with Marcus." She adds.

"Will he have no mercy!" Thomas exclaims, appearing from behind the trees, stopping when he spots them.

"Are you quite alright, Thomas?" Kitty asks.

"The Captain mocks me to my face and in front of my peers, leaving me thoroughly embarrassed, and you ask me if I'm quite alright." He cries.

"Do join us, Thomas?" Kitty offers, shuffling along to make room.

"No, I simply wished to drown myself in peace, now I shall have to wait." Thomas turns on his heel, wandering off the way he appeared.

"Thomas is quite dramatic, isn't he." Matilda comments.

"Oh yes, he is," Kitty replies, missing her tone. "He is a poet, after all."

The two women stay sat on the pier a little while longer until Kitty announces Alison would be making lunch soon and she liked to watch her best friend cook. They return to Button House, going their separate ways once inside, after a friendly hug.

Chapter Text

Matilda stands alone at the entrance of Button House. She can hear Kitty and Fanny chatting to Alison as she makes lunch. Through the doorway into the common area, she can see Robin sat at the chess table muttering to himself. She walks into the common room, watching as he stands, and walks to the opposite chair and ponders his next move.

"Interesting," he rubs his chin in thought.

Matilda's eyes scan the room, ensuring she hasn't missed another resident playing with him. The common area is empty though.

"Horse go clop – clop – clop." Robin points out the knight's movement.

He returns to the other chair, and laughs, "Basic move."

Matilda smiles, amused, "Would you like an opponent?" She asks, walking over to him.

Robin glances over at her for a moment, then shrugs, "It whatever." He mumbles but gestures to the other seat.

"I'm not very good." She admits, sitting down in the opposite chair.

"You learn," he tells her. "I best here."

"Who taught you?" Matilda asks, curious as to how this apparent caveman learnt chess.

"Edgar."

"Edgar, who's that?" She didn't recognise the name as one she had heard.

"You don't know him. People come; people go." Robin explains. "Robin always here."

"That must be sad, having to lose so many friends." Matilda sympathises.

"Not all are friends," Robin frowns.

"How many people have been here?" She asks.

Robin makes a noise that means, 'I don't know', then points to the board. "Talk too much. You go." He tells her.

"Sorry." She assumes that for a long time Robin didn't have or need language to communicate. She can understand how speaking may sometimes become overwhelming to him.

Matilda reaches out to move her pawn forward, forgetting her lack of a physical body at the moment, and her hand falls right through the chessboard. Robin finds this hilarious, leaning back and slapping his leg as he howls with laughter. Matilda can't help herself and joins him, clutching her stomach as it begins to ache.

"Not worry, you get used to it." Robin waves his hand through the chessboard too. "Need use brain, remember every place," he explains.

"I'll give it a go, Robin, but I can't promise I'll be any good." She looks down at her pieces. "Pawn to there," she points to her place.

Robin nods, "Prawn, go D5."

"D5, right," Matilda's eyes scan the board, quickly figuring out the system. "Knight to C3," Matilda continues.

Robin smiles appreciatively, "Horsey go clop, F6" his finger jumps around the chest board.

"Bishop C3?" Matilda is unsure.

Robin's brow furrows, "Not good, funny-hat-man, F5."

"I did warn you I'm not very good," Matilda defends herself. "Bishop D2." She moves her bishop back a square, hoping that would fix the mistake she had apparently made.

Robin shakes his head, moving his knight. Within the next two minutes, Matilda loses four pawns, both bishops, a knight and her queen. She crosses her arms in a huff, leaning back in the chair. She wasn't necessarily a competitive person, but after spending her entire childhood trying to prove she was just as good as her brother to her parents, some of her motivation to win must have stuck with her into adulthood.

"King E2," Matilda announces.

"No, you have prawn there," Robin tells her.

Matilda groans, glaring at the chessboard, this wasn't the first time Robin has corrected her as she keeps forgetting where her pieces are on the board. "Your knight is there, right?" She asks, and Robin nods in agreement. "My knight to C6, then." She takes Robin's knight.

Robin grins, "Queen, checkmate." He jumps up in celebration.

Matilda sighs deeply, "Well done, Robin. I told you I was terrible."

"You very bad," Robin agrees. "I will teach you." He tells her, sitting back down. "Prawn there, good move. Horse there, good, hat-man, not good, hat-man there, not good," he starts explaining.

"Okay, okay, Robin, can we go over my technique later?" Matilda stands, walks over to the couch, throwing herself down.

"Okay, okay," Robin repeats, teasingly.

"So, Robin, what do you do for fun around here?" She asks him, staring up at the crumbling plaster on the ceiling.

"Oh, yeah, lot of fun here. Hide in cupboard scare Alison, chess with Julian, throw Humphrey's head, lots of clubs, laugh at Thomas," he lists off on his fingers.

"It all seems rather repetitive, Robin," she mutters.

"You new, all fun new to you." Robin knees beside her. "Chess done, now scare Alison." His face lights up.

"I'll try most things once, let's go," she jumps to her feet, following after Robin into the hallway.

Robin peeks his head through the wall, then beckons her through into the pantry. Matilda steps through into the dark kitchen cupboard, glancing around.

"Now what?"

"Shh," Robin hisses covering her face with his hand. "Wait."

Matilda nods in agreement. They turn to face the door, listening to the conversation Alison and Mike are having while enjoying their lunch. She can hear Fanny and Kitty piping up with the odd comment.

"Guys, can you let us eat in peace, please?" Alison requests, frustrated.

"Guys," Fanny gasps, and her complaints are heard as she wanders off.

"Alison, what does 'guys' actually mean?" Kitty questions.

"It's a group of people, Kitty." Alison answers.

"Oh, thank you, Alison. I will see you guys after lunch." Kitty giggles as she skips out of the kitchen.

"They all gone?" Mike asks.

"Yeah," Alison mutter, sounding like she's chewing something as she speaks. "We should talk about Matilda." She says clear.

Matilda's ears prick up at the mention of her own name.

"What about her?" Mike asks.

"Mike, a girl died in our kitchen. Don't you find that upsetting?" Alison asks her husband.

"Of course, it's upsetting," his voice calming. "I've never seen anyone die before. I barely slept a wink last night. I wish our other kitchen was in working order so we can abandon this one." He admits. "At least we know she's alright, yeah? I mean, despite being dead. She stayed here, and she got the others, and you to help her." He adds.

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor echos in the kitchen before they hear the sound of running water at the sink.

"I wish there was more I could do for her. She thinks she's in a coma in the hospital. She's expecting to wake up, alive." Alison explains.

"What do they know of traumatic injuries?" Matilda hisses, her upset evident in her voice. "This is all a coma induced nightmare." She asserts firmly as the pantry door opens.

"BOO!" Robin shouts.

"Robin!" Alison snaps, annoyed, then notices Matilda. "Oh, Matilda, did you hear all that?" She asks awkwardly.

"Yes, I did," she storms out of the pantry through the back wall.

Robin follows after her, calling her name but she ignores him, walking through various walls until she loses him, only to walk right into the Captain and Pat sat in the television room.

"Matilda!" The Captain jumps to his feet.

"Sorry to interrupt, I'm trying to find somewhere quiet." She turns to leave.

"Are you alright, Matilda? You look upset." Pat asks, walking towards her, concern on her face.

Matilda feels uncomfortable talking about her feelings but she hadn't been lying when she'd said he was a calming presence. "I just overheard Alison and Mike talking about me, about me dying in their kitchen." She admits.

Pat and the Captain exchange knowing glances, seemingly having a conversation through their facial expressions.

"You told him, Pat." She states, upset by the lack of trust.

"I'm sorry, Matilda. I thought Cap could help." Pat explains.

"Help with what? Help convince me I'm actually dead. What's wrong with me believing I'm alive? I'm not hurting anybody but myself if I turn out to be wrong. I'm a logical person, I don't believe in ghosts or demons without sufficient evidence and I've never seen anything that would convince me the afterlife exists. To me, the most logical explanation is that I am in a medically induced coma and my knowledge of history has created this nightmare." Matilda tells them. "I appreciated you not dismissing me, Pat. I don't need you to convince me otherwise, and I don't need you telling everyone something I told you in confidence." She adds, staring pointedly at Pat before turning and walking through the nearest wall.

Matilda has worked herself up into a fit of anger. She doesn't want to take it out on anyone, whether they were a figment of their imagination or not, so she heads up the stairs to her bedroom, hoping for some quiet to calm down. As she walks down the corridor, she hears soft humming coming from the library beside her room. Pat had assured her few people come up to this floor, beside Humphrey's body, which had no head to hum with.

"Hello, who's there?" She calls, walking closer to the library door, wondering if Thomas had searched for the same quiet in the attic that she was looking for.

The humming instantly stops, yet nobody speaks. she's about to ask again when she hears them clear their throat.

"Is that Miss Matilda?"

Her breath catches. Only one person calls her that, and she recognises his voice. She and Humphrey were rarely in the same room as each other and had never found themselves alone.

"Yes, it's me," she confirms, wondering how he managed to get up here in the first place. "Do you need help?" She asks. "I can go find someone." She suggests, feeling guilty that she can't find it within herself to walk into the library and help him.

"No, I'm quite comfortable here," he admits. "Thank you though, Miss Matilda. How are you?" He asks.

Matilda scoffs, he has no reason to be thanking her. She had been nothing but rude her entire time at Button House. She knew that. Humphrey was just hard to look at, harder than Pat.

"Are you still there?" Humphrey asks, voice soft and sad.

"Yeah," she breathes deeply. "I'm sorry." She says, her own voice sincere.

"Whatever for?" He adds, sounding brighter.

"I've pretty much ignored you the whole time I've been here." She explains.

"Eh, it happens."

Matilda can imagine him shrugging, before remembering his body isn't there. She sits down on the carpeted corridor, leaning against the exterior wall. "I've noticed the others often forget to include you." She comments.

"It's easy to forget a head when it's not screwed on." He jokes.

Matilda barks out a laugh before covering her mouth with her hand. "Sorry, I shouldn't be laughing."

"Why not? I'm over it."

"How can you just get over something that traumatic?" She asks, seriously.

"It was so half a millennia ago."

Matilda finds herself chuckling sadly, "I'm afraid I don't have that long."

"Why, you going somewhere?" He asks, concerned.

"I hope so," she sighs.

"Did you say something? I couldn't hear you." Humphrey tells her, speaking louder from the library. When she doesn't reply, he continues. "I'll tell you the truth, Miss Matilda, when I arrived here, there weren't that many of us. It was frustrating. Robin spent most of his time on the land outside. Greggory, a fourteenth-century monk, was around for a couple of decades before moving on. And my body was and remains to this day, useless. I once spent five years in the exact same spot in the kitchen. At least it was entertaining."

"That sounds awful, I can't even imagine being stuck in the same place for so long," Matilda sympathises. "Actually, I might." She adds.

"You've got a couple of centuries to go first," Humphrey informs her.

Matilda doesn't bother explaining her coma theory to the Tudor nobleman when Pat and the Captain don't even understand her.

"If you don't mind me asking, Miss Matilda, you sounded rather upset when you first came up here. How are you?" He asks.

"I'm feeling quite down at the moment." She admits without thinking. There was something about Humphrey that she found trusting, and she decides to tell him the truth. "I'm not entirely convinced I'm dead."

"Oh, I've heard about your theory," Humphrey tells her.

"Pat?" She sighs.

"I was under a couch when he was telling the Captain. He didn't know I was there." He clarifies. "He was asking the Captain how best to support you as you come to terms with your future."

"Oh," she mutters, feeling guilty for her outburst when Pat just wanted to support her. "What do you think?" She asks. "About my theory."

"I find it very compelling. My knowledge of modern medicine is limited, but Alison has explained her medically induced coma, and how the doctors weren't too worried when she admitted she was imagining people after her traumatic injuries." Humphrey explains. "I do wonder what sense of autonomy we have if we are figments of your imagination."

"I assume everyone acts as to be expected from their time period. Thomas acts like a regency poet, the Captain is very much a war captain, and Fanny is a Lady, isn't she? Twice she's told me off for mumbling." Matilda chuckles.

"What about me?" Humphrey questions her.

Matilda feels guilty, "I haven't exactly spent much time with you. I'll admit I've been avoiding you."

"Why do you find my being to be so repulsive?" He asks.

"Repulsive?" Matilda repeats. "I don't find you repulsive, just terrifying. You're a head, Humphrey." She clarifies. The resounding silence from the library worries her that she's said something wrong. "I'm sorry, was that too blunt?" She asks.

"No, no," he assures her. "It's silly, but you've never said my name before, it caught me off guard, Miss Matilda." He admits.

Matilda's mind quickly thinks back through her time at Button House as she remembers every interaction she's had with the man and realises he's correct. She hasn't said his name. Not to the man himself, or any of the other housemates.

"It's not silly at all," Matilda tells him softly. "It's rude of me not to have used it sooner." She adds. "You know, Humphrey," she smiles, liking the sound of his name. "You can call me Matilda."

"Oh, no, that would be improper of me, Miss Matilda," he explains.

She smiles, it doesn't bother her all that much, in fact, she rather enjoys the moniker Humphrey had placed upon her. "Is that a Tudor thing?" She asks him.

"Perhaps, it would support your coma theory," he says. "Or it's just a me thing."

"You don't call Mary or Kitty, Miss," she points out.

"I suppose I don't, although I have known them both for centuries," he defends himself.

Matilda laughs, "I don't mind what you call me, Humphrey. I just wanted to offer you the option, if it was a Tudor thing." He explains.

"Thank you," says Humphrey. "Matilda." He adds, his voice shifting into an almost flirtatious tone, making her name sound all the more scandalous.

"Stop!" Matilda bursts into a fit of laughter, lying down on the rug. She can hear Humphrey stifled chuckles from the other room. She sighs loudly, placing her hands on her stomach, cramping from the laughter.

"Matilda," Pat's voice calls as he walks upstairs.

She scrambles to her feet, awkwardly fixing her hair and brushing her clothes free of dirt and dust, forgetting she needn't be bothering.

"You sound happier," Pat mentions with a wide grin as he steps onto the landing. "I wanted to apologise for breaking your trust. I mentioned before that Cap is there for us whenever we need him. I needed his advice on how we can make your presence here' more comforting. He suggested not bring up the whole 'dead' thing, so we've been telling everyone not to mention it until you're ready to discuss it." He explains.

"Thank you, Pat. I'm sorry for my outburst. I was upset and took it out on you, but I'm feeling much better," Matilda returns his contagious smile. "My dad always said 'laughter is the best medicine."

"I agree," Pat nods. "What were you laughing at up here?" He scans the corridor, not finding anything particularly funny.

Matilda starts laughing again, "I was just talking to Humphrey," she explains.

"Really!" Pat's eyes brighten, knowing how difficult she has found the notion of Humphrey.

"Yeah, he's actually quite funny, for a head." She adds.

"Hey, I can still hear you," Humphrey calls from the library, catching Pat's attention.

"This is a private conversation, mind your own business," she jokes, feeling increasingly more confident being in his presence, albeit, a wall between them.

Pat chuckles along with them, feeling a little intrusive. "Well, I'm glad you're feeling better, Matilda," he starts to back away, wanting to leave them to their previous jovial mood.

"Actually, I think I'm in need of a nap," Matilda states, widening her eyes and nodding at the library. "I've emotionally exhausted myself and would like to be well-rested for film club tonight."

"Oh, okay," Pat nods his head in full understanding. "Humphrey, why don't you join the rest of us for 'What I would wear today' today?" He cheerily asks, walking through the library door to fetch his head. "Give Matilda some quiet to rest," he adds.

Humphrey groans in complaint, "I hate this club, my answer's always the same, a body."

"Maybe we can bring him in too, so you can see for yourself what you would like to change," Pat suggests, walking back out of the room, Humphrey's head in his hands.

Humphrey glances up nervously at Matilda, not wanting to see her flinch at his appearance after their lovely conversation. Her eyes do appear a little shifty, but when they lock, she gives him a soft smile, sending his dead heart inside his body aflutter.

"I bid you adieu, Miss Matilda," he returns her smile.

"Ooh, French!" Pat exclaims.

"I picked up a thing or two from my wife," he explains.

Matilda exaggerates a curtsey, "Well, farewell, good sir," she retorts, turning and walking straight through her bedroom wall.

She can hear Humphrey's laughter as Pat carries him downstairs, giving her the peace to nap. That hadn't been a lie, she's exhausted, and as she lays down on her bed, a small smile playing on her lips, she sighs in content as she drifts off.

Chapter Text

Matilda is awoken from her nap by Alison, who knocks on her door until she calls for the other woman to enter.

"Hi, Matilda," Alison perches on the edge of her bed. "I want to apologise for what Mike and I said at lunch. It was wrong of me to brush your feelings aside like that."

"It's okay, Alison. I spoke to Humphrey and he told me about your accident. I feel like something similar is happening to me, but if I turn out to be wrong, that's on me. I'm just trying to stay positive for now, and not think about it." Matilda explains.

"Great, well, I spoke to the others, and they all agreed to allow you to chose the movie for film club tonight," Alison tells her. "Any suggestions? Mike and I are popping to the supermarket so I can buy any film you want, as long as they have it.".

Matilda grins, already knowing the perfect film for her new group of historical friends.

Feeling in a much better mood since her nap, Matilda wanders the halls cheerfully only to find Thomas sat in the library window, staring glumly out across the gardens.

"Thomas, how are you feeling?" She asks, sitting opposite him.

"Oh Matilda," he glances at her for a moment before letting his gaze wander back out the window. "It's kind of you to join me."

"What happened between you and the Captain?" She asks, curiously. She hadn't spent much time with the Captain but what she did know about him made her think he hadn't moved on much since he died.

"Oh, that silly old walrus, he interrupted my monologue on the beauty of autumn. It truly is the most magnificent time of the year with so many colours throughout nature. You know, the very poem was the talk of Higham House back in my day." He explains.

"He interrupted you?" She asks, wondering if that was all.

"Yes, to make an announcement, about you actually." He looks back at her. "You're in denial about being dead and we're not to mention- ah, I've made a mistake. I apologise, Matilda." He bows his head. "Although Julian says denial is the first stage of grief, perhaps I can help you through the other stages, whatever they are. We may have to converse with Julian on the matter." He suggests, the frowns on his forehead disappearing as he discovers a new purpose.

"I'd rather not talk about it, Thomas." She admits.

"Ah, you're still firmly in the first stage of grief, I see." Thomas nods sympathetically. "I'll question Julian on the other stages and devise a plan to help you." He stands, bowing to her once more before leaving.

Despite him directly ignoring her request to leave her be, she is pleased he seems happier in himself and no longer wishes to drown himself in the lake. Matilda takes the moment to look out across the grounds of Button House. Thomas was right about the beauty of autumn. On the drive, Robin and Mary are playing catch with Humphrey's head again. She's less surprised this time when Robin swings Humphrey around by his hair and releases him directly at the window where she is sat.

She jumps up from her seat when Humphrey's head bounces off the window, falling back down to the gravel. Matilda wonders just how enjoyable these games can be for him.

Matilda runs down the stairs as quickly as she can, bursting through the front doors onto the driveway. After their morning conversation, she had grown a fondness for Humphrey. The head had turned out to be the easiest person to talk to out of all the house guest at Button House.

"Hi, what's going on?" She asks, watching between Robin and Mary. "Robin?" She turns to him.

"We throwing Humphrey," he shrugs, looking down at the ground.

"Where is Humphrey now?" She questions.

"He be in the bush," Mary gestures over to a dead bush.

"Go get him," Matilda orders.

Mary harumphs as she stomps over and fetches Humphrey out of the bush, turning him around to face her.

"Hello, Miss Matilda," he greets her with a suave smile. "How was your nap?" He asks.

"Much needed, thank you, Humphrey," she returns his smile. "How do you like being thrown around?" She asks him.

"Well, it's lovely to be included," Humphrey's face conveys a shrug.

"That doesn't mean you need to be ridiculed, Humphrey. You can be included in other ways." Matilda assures him, before turning back on Robin and Mary. "You can start by remembering to bring him around when you go to your clubs." She tells them.

Robin rolls his eyes, shrugging as he walks off towards the back of the house.

"Waits for me," Mary calls, shoving Humphrey's head into her arms as she runs after Robin.

Matilda is left awkwardly holding Humphrey's head, similarly to how she had held her baby cousin for the first time. She has never been fond of babies.

"This is new," Humphrey attempts to break the awkwardness.

"Yeah, shall we- erm, head inside," Matilda starts walking towards the front doors.

"Oh, good one, Miss Matilda, 'head inside'," Humphrey chuckles in her arms.

"That was unintended," she admits. "Where would you like to be?" She asks, waking into the common area, where the Captain is stood at the window.

"Ah, Matilda, I heard you out there, and I'm very impressed. I'm sure you are a fine teacher. Do you keep your pupils well-disciplined?" The Captain asks. Matilda can tell he's trying hard to use the present tense, and she appreciates the effort.

"I like to think I'm a firm but fun teacher. My students know they can come to me if they have any issues." She explains.

"Matilda, there you are. I have been searching all over for you. Julian says the next stage of grief is anger. We need to get you angry." Thomas announces, a curious Julian following behind him.

"What's this all about?" Humphrey questions.

"Thomas has taken it upon himself to help me accept my death," Matilda sighs, setting Humphrey's head down on the centre of the couch and sitting beside him.

"This can't be good," Humphrey grimaces. "You were quite upset this morning though." He adds.

"Now listen here, Thorne. I told you not to mention such things in the presence of Matilda." The Captain points his swagger stick at the poet.

"Pish Posh," Thomas dismisses the Captain. "Now, it is not in my nature to be malicious, however, I shall try my best to help you, Matilda." Thomas stands in the centre of the rug, clearing his throat.

Julian takes a seat on the other side of Humphrey's head, "This ought to be fun." He grins.

"Where to start?" He thinks aloud. "Your hair, Matilda, looks like dry hay." He states.

"Oooh," Julian laughs.

"What?" Matilda glances down at her blonde wavy hair.

"It is very limp and thin," Thomas continues with his insult.

"That's enough, Thomas," the Captain orders, standing behind the couch.

"Shh," Julian flaps his hand in the Captain's face to shut him up. "What about her state of dress?"

"What about my state of dress?" Matilda looks herself up and down, starting to feel offended.

"We'll, it's a rather - hipstery look. Tight black cuffed jeans, turtleneck, loose flowing blouse. If I didn't know you had a boyfriend, I'd assume you were a lesbian." Julian admits.

"Good lord, Julian," the Captain struts front and centre, taking charge. "That's quite enou-"

"It's alright, Captain. I am bisexual. The fashion is rather typical." Matilda admits.

The Captain hums in confusion.

"Matilda, what is 'bisexual'?" Thomas questions.

"Oh, it's my sexuality. It means I am attracted to both men and women. Well, I can be attracted to anyone really, depends on their personality. I just prefer to use the term bisexual." Matilda explains.

"You openly admit your sexuality? You must be very brave, or completely mad." Julian states, loosening his tie. "Wouldn't catch me doing that sort of thing." He shrugs.

Matilda's eyes narrow curiously, "It's a different time. We're in the twenty-first century, and there's a lot less prejudice around sexuality. Of course, there's still a lot of hate, but it's better, and there are laws in this country protecting us against abuse." She explains.

"Good lord, really. Laws protecting instead of against homosexuals. What a time?" The Captain mutters, deep in thought.

"In my time," Robin interrupts, having joined them at some point during their conversation, and sat himself down on the floor beside Julian. "You like someone; you do it." He grins.

"I'm surprised Alison hasn't caught you all up," Matilda admits.

"So," Julian raises his eyebrows suggestively. "Ever been with a woman?" He winks.

"Julian!" she shakes her head. "Not an appropriate question."

"We'll save that conversation for later," he nods and winks suggestively.

"Is there a club I forgot about?" Pat asks, entering from the columns with Fanny, Mary and Kitty.

"We're discussing Matilda's sexuality," Thomas announces.

"It started off with you insulting me," Matilda reminds him.

"Oh, yes, I apologise, Matilda." He bows, stepping aside.

"Sexuality!" Fanny gasps.

"Fanny's husband was homosexual," Julian whispers loudly to Matilda.

"Matilda is a bisexual," the Captain catches everyone up.

"Yes, thank you, Captain," Matilda sighs.

"How exciting!" Pat grins, patting Matilda's hand as he sits on the arm of the couch, beside her.

"What does your boyfriend think of all this sexuality business?" Fanny asks.

"He's fine with it, but it's really nothing to do with him," Matilda says. "So, what about everyone else? Pat has told me about his wife and son, but what family does everyone else have?" She asks, scanning the room.

"I unfortunately never experienced the joy of marriage. My one true love was stolen from me by my own cousin. Then I met Alison." Thomas sighs longingly.

"Alison, you've got a thing for Alison," Matilda chuckles.

"Oh, leave me alone," Thomas takes himself to the piano bench to sulk.

"Sorry, Thomas," she calls after him.

"I had a family," Julian announces. "A wife and daughter. I barely knew them. My daughter's an MP now, for the Green Party." He pulls a face.

"Respectable," Matilda teases in amusement.

"You heard about my George, no doubt," Fanny mentions.

"Yes, Julian mentioned your husband," Matilda admits.

"My husband died he did three years after our wedding," Mary explains.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mary."

"You know about my family, Tilly," Kitty says, announcing to everyone else that they are close.

"Yes," Matilda nods. "What about you Captain?"

"Oh, no, no family for me I'm afraid. Far too busy with the goings-on of the war," he coughs, gripping his swagger stick visibly harder.

"Any siblings?" She asks. The Captain seems very much like a closed book. Nobody knew his name or anything about his life before he arrived at Button House.

He clears his throat, a frown deep on his forehead as his thought run awry, "I had a sister," he finally admits.

"Really? What was her name?" Pat asks, excited by the prospect of learning something new about their mysterious friend.

The Captain's gaze avoids everyone in the room as he focuses on the open fire that Alison had lit before she'd left to go shopping. "Her name was Eliza, Elizabeth. She was twelve years younger than me." He clears his throat, glancing around the room. "I think that's enough of the personal details. Is that Alison I hear?" He strides quickly over to the window, where Alison and Mike are pulling up in their car.

"Oh, wonderful," Kitty rushes with Mary to meet them at the front door.

Alison pops her head into the common area, scanning the room and smiling when she spots Matilda.

"Did you manage to get the film?" Matilda asks.

"They had the boxset for a tenner, so you're in luck," Alison smile.

"Amazing, thank you, Alison," she grins.

"What film is it that we're watching tonight?" Pat asks.

"It's a surprise, but it's the first film in my absolute favourite trilogy of all time." She explains.

"Brilliant, I can't wait." Pat jumps to his feet as people start leaving. "Remember everyone, nine o'clock sharp in the television room." He announces.

A few people mumble in confirmation as they leave Pat, Matilda and Humphrey alone on the couch. Thomas joins them once again since nobody had paid his little sulk any attention.

Pat takes the space on the couch that Julian has vacated and turns to face Matilda. "I hope the Captain didn't upset or offend you by outing your sexuality back there. He's from a different time when talking about any of this stuff could get a person into trouble. I'm sure he's just coming to terms with a newfound freedom to talk about this sort of thing."

"It's fine, Pat. I wasn't upset." She assures him. "He seemed to take it all in pretty well, or as well as to be expected." She glances around the room to ensure the Captain still isn't lurking about. "He did come across as a little repressed, with the whole discussion."

"That's just Cap as a whole. He's a little restrained in most topics of conversation unless we're discussing the war." Pat chuckles.

Matilda nods thoughtfully.

"He's been here nearly eighty years and this is the first time he's ever mentioned his sister, Eliza. He's a very private person." Thomas points out.

"He wasn't much different when he was alive," Humphrey adds. "His only confidant was his Lieutenant Havers, who I'm quite sure he was in love with. Never had the guts to tell him before he left for Africa. Of course, it was illegal then." He continues.

"I'm sorry, Humphrey, are you insinuating that the Captain was in love?" Thomas asks, sounding amused. "I never thought he had it in him."

"He was in love with his Lieutenant?" Pat mutters.

"Yeah, I got stuck in his office for three month and the Captain was always a nervous wreck when he was around. He kept to himself for weeks after he left." Humphrey clarifies.

"Well, this is certainly new information," Pat says, standing. "I think I'm going out for a walk." He announces as he leaves.

"Who's rattled his cage?" Thomas asks, taking his place on the couch. "Now back to you Matilda, how angry did my taunts make you?" He questions.

"On a scale of one to ten, ten being absolutely furious," she starts, "A one."

"Oh dear, that will not do," Thomas shakes his head.

"Julian got me to a two though," she adds, feeling guilty for not getting angry enough. Thomas has a strange effect on her where she wants to comfort him and tell him everything is going to be okay.

"Of course, I'm a lover, not a fighter. If I want to make you angry, I must employ another's help, and I think I know the perfect person." Thomas smiles proudly.

"You might want to utilise the element of surprise," Humphrey suggests. "Miss Matilda is less likely to get all riled up if she's expecting it."

"You're quite right, Humphrey. I shall go plan my surprise attack," Thomas rushes from the room.

"Thanks for that Humphrey, just what I need. To be suddenly attacked with mean words when I least expect it." She sarcastically says, leaning back against the arm of the couch and tucking her legs beneath her. "So, what about you, Humphrey? You mentioned your wife earlier. She was French?"

"Yeah, it was your classic Tudor arranged marriage. We were young, in our mid-teenage years, and didn't really get on with each other. She kept to her French handmaidens, and I kept to my staff. Luckily, I was away quite often with the King's men, campaigning through Scotland and France. Although, it was my close quarters with those men that caused me to meet my untimely death in 1542. King Henry waited until I was back home before he ordered my execution. At least I got to say goodbye to the children." He mentions.

"Tell me about your children," she urges him on.

Humphrey smiles, "No one has taken this much of an interest in me for centuries." He admits shyly.

"Go on, I'm listening," she returns his smile.

"Madeleine and I had five surviving children when I died," he begins, looking wistfully off out the window.

Matilda actively listens as Humphrey tells her what he remembers of each one of his five children, and the grandchildren he saw grow up in both in life and death when they visited their grandmother. She laughs along with his stories and feels goosebumps up her arms when Humphrey explains the pain of watching his final descendent die within the house, and them instantly leaving for wherever people go to after they die. She wishes she could hug him but doesn't want to just cradle his head.

"Can I ask you something, Humphrey?" She interrupts abruptly.

"Sure, ask away. I'm an open book."

"When someone touches your body, can you feel it?" She asks.

"Oh yeah, I feel everything. Don't tell the other's though, they perceive me and him as separate beings and I like to feel helpful." He explains.

"Wait here," Matilda jumps to her feet, and Humphrey stares at her pointedly. She rolls her eyes, "Sorry, just- be patient. I'll be back in a minute." She leaves.

Humphrey isn't used to being propped up correctly, so he appreciatively glances around the room. A gasp rises in his throat when he feels someone tentatively take his hand. It's such a rarity that he is touched, that he still finds the sensation strange. It feels like pins and needles. He assumes this is where Matilda had run off, and he is proved to be correct when she enters the common area guiding his body behind her.

"Does he not make you uncomfortable?" He asks, voice not much louder than a whisper.

"The more I am in your presence, the easier it is for me to look past the fact you're a head, but this guy's lack of a neck is out in the open. I am finding it quite difficult to look at him." She admits.

"To be honest, so do I." Humphrey grins. "So, what is he doing here? Are you going to stick me back up there?" He questions.

"Does that work?" She asks.

"For a moment, then I tend to fall off again."

"Well, that will be long enough," she awkwardly picks his head up off the couch, gently placing him back upon his neck.

"Long enough for what?" He asks apprehensively, his eyebrow twitching with curiosity.

Instead of answering, Matilda's fingers run through his hair, gripping the back of his head to hold it in place as she wraps her other around his back, hugging him tightly.

"Oh," Humphrey mutters, enveloping her in his own arms, enjoying the first hug he's ever received in half a millennium. "This is nice," he sighs.

Matilda smiles against Humphrey's shoulder, "I just thought you could use a hug, after talking about your family."

Behind her, she hears the grandfather clock begin to strike nine o'clock.

"We're late for film club," she takes Humphrey's hand in one hand and his hand in the other, setting off for the television room.

"You don't need to bring my body to film club," Humphrey tells her.

"He's part of you, Humphrey." She tells him as they enter the room. "I've got Humphrey," Matilda announces as an explanation for their lateness.

"Oh, yes, jolly good, Matilda," the Captain nods. "I'm afraid all the couch spaces have been taken."

"That's fine, we'll sit on the floor." She pulls Humphrey's body down so he's sat leaning against Julian's legs.

"Hey, watch it," Julian complains, moving his legs aside to allow the headless body space.

Matilda places Humphrey's head on his own lap, so he's sat facing the screen, then sits beside him. She looks up at Alison and nods to confirm her readiness.

"Right, everyone, Matilda chose the film for tonight." Alison inserts the disk into the DVD player. "It's a trilogy, so we have two more to watch another night." She explains, sitting down on the couch beside Julian and Mike.

The opening shots of New York City alongside the musical score builds excitement in Matilda's chest. It has been far too long since she's watched this film. Her brother used to tease her about how many times she watches it. Her excited grin falls when she realises this could very well be her brother playing the film on his laptop for her in the hospital. She shakes her head as the title appears on the screen. She wants to enjoy this moment with her new friends, real or not.

"Night at the Museum?" Pat reads out.

"Is it by chance history related?" Thomas asks.

"Yes, it is," Matilda's smile returns.

Julian groans, sinking deeper into the couch, preparing himself for an hour and a half of boredom until an attractive female character appears on screen, gaining his interest.

By the end of the film, everyone has enjoyed themselves and found a connection to different aspects of the film. Robin loves the slapstick comedy but hates the representation of the Neanderthals. Pat and Kitty both love Dexter. Fanny finds herself enamoured with President Teddy Roosevelt. Mary is fascinated by the 'small mans' in the room of miniatures. The Captain enjoys any and all fighting scenes, critiquing their technique, then finds himself flustered by Ahkmenrah, speaking a "Good Lord" when he unwraps his face. Julian, of course, still fancies Sakagawea.

Once everyone has gone their separate ways by the end of the night, Matilda and Humphrey are left sitting on the floor of the television room.

"So, did you enjoy the film?" Matilda asks, nervously hoping he did.

"I did very much so," he smiles. "Although, my knowledge of history ends at my death. Alison helps by taking books out of the local library. I'm currently reading up on the four George's." He explains. "But I still have a lot of questions." He admits. "First of all, what exactly is 'Rex'?" He asks.

Matilda is gobsmacked for a moment, "Oh, wow, I didn't even think about that. You've never heard of a dinosaur?"

"I don't believe I have."

"Fist thing tomorrow morning, I'll ask Alison for some books or a documentary on dinosaurs." She tells him, lifting his head up and taking his body's hand. "Jurassic Park. We have to watch Jurassic Park," she excitably guides him out of the room.

"BOO!"

"Robin!" Matilda snaps, jumping out her skin as she spins around to find Thomas instead, hiding in the dark corner. "Thomas, what the hell man?"

"It was Robin's suggestion, and Humphrey's. The element of surprise. Are you angry, Matilda?" Thomas asks.

"No, I'm not angry." She snaps. "Maybe a little. You're up to a four, Thomas." She sighs.

"Wonderful, I'll keep trying," he walks through a wall off to his bedroom.

Matilda sighs deeply, realising Humphrey is shaking with laughter in her arms.

"Oh, shut up you, or I won't drop you off in your room," she warns him.

"I don't have a room," he tells her.

Matilda stares at him pitifully. "That's upsetting, Humphrey. You're really making me want to hug you again."

"I wouldn't mind," Humphrey's body shrugs.

"Why don't you have your own room?"

"I told you there weren't many of us when I first died, and my family was still occupying the majority of the rooms. I never had the opportunity to choose a room for myself." Humphrey explains.

"Well, tonight is your lucky night. Pat told me there's a few spare rooms on this floor." Matilda walks Humphrey down the corridor, peering into each room they pass, trying to find the vacant rooms. "What about this one?" She pulls him into the first empty room. "The window overlooks the back garden. It's quite nice. Wow, look at the curtains on this bed, very nice." She smiles at him, trying to convince him.

"I like it, and it's close to the stairs that lead up to the attic." He agrees. "In case I wish to visit the library." He quickly adds.

"Great," Matilda lays his head down on the pillow and gently pushing his body to lie beside him. "Erm, good night, Humphrey." She uncomfortably steps aside.

"Good night, Miss Matilda."

She rolls her eyes fondly as she leaves for her own bedroom in the attic. After the day she had before her nap, her evening had been a thousand times better. If her worst fears become reality, and she is destined to spend eternity at Button House with this eclectic group of characters, she doesn't think she would mind it all that much.