"Oh my God! We have a ghost! This is so cool!" Shiro exclaims, startling Keith who is still staring, wide-eyed at the empty space in front of him, "Hold up, does this mean we get to perform an exorcism?"

"I'm pretty sure you only perform an exorcism if someone is possessed."Keith sasses, shaking himself out of his daze and picking up the pencils to place them back in the can. His head doesn't seem to want to process what's going on, ideas and scenarios of what could have happened flash through his mind, becoming increasingly ridiculous as he spiraled, grasping for anything that didn't involve him having accidentally spoken to a spirit.

"Alright, okay-" Shiro furrows his brow in thought for a moment, "-Got it! All we need to do is have our ghost-y pal climb all up in your flesh prison. Then we can exorcise you in the yard, and boom! No more ghost in the house!"

Keith spins around, knocking over the can again in the process. His mouth hangs open, moving to articulate words that he hasn't quite grasped.

"I- You-" He chokes on his words while his brother looks on smugly, "No one is- is- crawling all up in my flesh prison!"

Shiro throws his head back to laugh, chuckling heartily as though he hadn't just suggested offering his little brother up to some ethereal force. The sound echoes off the walls and only gets louder as he doubles over, sneaking the occasional look at Keith's shocked face, the sight of which just sends him into another fit. Eventually Keith just dissolves into looking on in a huff and Shiro finds that with the return of Keith's attitude, the fun has passed.

"Okay, okay-" He states coolly, holding his hands up in a 'calm down' gesture, "I get it. Human sacrifice isn't funny. But seriously man, I really doubt you're haunted. You were probably just tired last night and dropped a couple of pencils out of the can while you were carrying it in."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Keith sighs, relieved that Shiro can be the voice of reason for a moment.

"-But!" Shiro interjects, stopping Keith's relief in its tracks, "We should ask it just to make sure."

"Ask it? Really Shiro? Like one of those ghost hunting shows that play at like three AM?" Keith squints incredulously, now thoroughly irritated with Shiro's nonsense.

"Yeah, I mean, no harm no foul right? We can ask it, and if we get no response, then no ghost. If it responds then we can ask it what's up."

"Dude, that's just dumb." Keith shoves past him and towards his suitcase, sorting out what needed the most urgent cleaning. Anything to keep his mind off what might still be lurking, unseen, in his room.

"Hey, you're the one who has to live with the wispy bastard. If I were you I would want to know what's up." Shiro turns dramatically to leave, his footsteps painfully slow. Keith refuses to turn around and give him the satisfaction of a reaction, instead, he begins piling clothes on top of a towel to make the trip to the laundry room a bit easier. 

"Bye Shiro." He calls to his brother, not looking up from his task.

He snorts a laugh as he hears Shiro's disappointed footsteps fade down the hallway. Pile complete, he pulls the four corners of the towel together to form a haphazard knapsack. Flinging it over his shoulder like an eighties cartoon bank robber, he makes his way down the hall.

A really cool thing about big old houses, especially on the east coast, has got to be the tiny secret passages everywhere, the sort that are not supposed to be used as passages, such as laundry shoots and dumbwaiters. They're every kids' dream and every parents' nightmare. Keith refuses to admit to himself, even as he tosses laundry into the shoot which comes out from the wall in a very neat fashion, that, had he lived here only a few years prior, he would have definitely slid through it. Because hey, built-in slide, why not? Right now he is definitely not thinking about how he might still fit, nor is he attempting to mentally size up the opening in comparison to his shoulders. Keith is a very mature, very grown up person. He's the sort of person that doesn't use a laundry shoot as a slide-

-at least, not when anyone is around.

He glances down both sides of the hallway, and, finding it clear, he tucks himself inside.

Keith pulls the little door shut behind him, and in doing so, loses his balance. He swiftly finds himself sliding down the completely dark passage at an alarmingly fast speed. He tries to slow himself, but his socked feet don't have much in the way of traction and it doesn't do much to halt his descent. 

"Duck!" A voice yells.

Keith doesn't question it and does as he's told, tucking his head against his knees. A fraction of a moment later he feels something roughly scrape the top of his head, narrowly missing his skull entirely. He barely has time to sigh in relief before the passage grows brighter and the floor falls out beneath him. 

He is deposited unceremoniously on a pile of dirty laundry, breathing heavily and covered in lint, dust, and an assortment of cobwebs. 

"Keith?" His dad asks rather nonchalantly, his attention absorbed in deciding whether a very light blue sweater counts as white or not. 

"Hey dad." Keith huffs out, scrambling up and trying to comb the webs out of his hair with his fingers. Desperately hoping this fiasco wouldn't get back to Shiro. It would take him weeks to find adequate blackmail to get him to stop talking about it.

"Have a nice, erm, ride?" He finally looks up, having put two and two together.

"Yeah, I guess." Keith answers, "How did you know about the support beam?"

"Support beam?" He asks, going back to his task and deciding with finality that the sweater was white.

"Yeah didn't you just-" Keith trails off. The voice had sounded younger, but there's no way Shiro could have known. There's no way anyone could have known.

"I'm going to go figure out how to organize my room," Keith excuses himself, turning toward the stairs. He's only two steps up before he turns again, "Oh and, if you could not tell mom or Shiro about all. . . this-"

"Your secret is safe with me." He says with a smile, turning back to the washing machine and fiddling with the settings.

"Thanks." Keith turns again and heads up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

If his dad hadn't warned him, and nobody else could have warned him, then-

-well, he didn't want to think about that. The best way to settle this once and for all is to go with Shiro's idea. Keith has to talk to it.

A few moments later and he finds himself in front of Shiro's door, hand poised above the wood, trying to figure out what exactly to say. He shrugs off his nervousness and decides to just wing it. 

He knocks once, twice-

-and the door swings open, revealing Shiro with a camera mounted to the bill of his snap-back.

"Yes! I knew you'd agree! Let's go." He rambles, pushing past Keith and toward his room at the end of the hallway.

"Wait, what? You didn't even hear what I had to say!" Keith calls after him.

"Come on!" Shiro calls back, already inside Keith's room.

Keith groans and follows after, annoyed that Shiro had just barged into his room, but relieved that he didn't have to grovel to get his help. He swings the door open and finds his room dark. The blinds have been drawn and the lights are off. Shiro sits cross legged on the floor in the middle of the room, fiddling with the camera settings.

"If we do this, you are not filming it." Keith states with annoyance.

"That's what she said." Shiro responds, continuing to fiddle with the camera.

"Give me that!" Keith huffs, swiping the camera out of his brothers hands and turning it off, " I'm keeping this until this is over."

"Keiiiith." Shiro whines," You take the fun out of everything."

"Yep." Keith agrees, throwing the camera on his bed.

"Okay, so I did some research, and I guess we just sit is a circle and ask it questions. I tell it one knock for yes, two knocks for no, and we see what happens." Shiro explains.

"Alright, lets get this over with." Keith settles down onto the floor, facing Shiro.

"That's what she-"

"No."

Keith can't see much in the darkness, but he can practically hear Shiro grinning.

"Okay, spirit," Shiro starts, "I am Shiro, and this is Keith. We would like to ask you a few questions. You can answer by knocking on something, or manifesting and tearing our hearts out. I'll leave that decision to you. If you choose the tamer route, then one knock will signify yes, and two knocks will signify a no. Pretty easy, once for yes, twice for no. Keith, you go first."

"What?" 

"Ask it a question."

"Okay, spirit, are you actually here?" Keith holds his breath, straining his ears to hear an answer. Nothing comes. "Sounds like its your turn-"

Knock.

Keith freezes. The knock was close, he could feel the small vibrations through the floor, somewhere near his right hand.

"Shiro, don't mess with me like that."

"Like what? Is it my turn?" Shiro asks, still as relaxed as he'd been when they had started.

"Don't knock, man. It freaks me out!"

"I didn't knock. Did you hear something?" Shiro leans forward inquisitively.

"Didn't you hear something?"

"Nope."

"Never mind then, probably just the pipes." Keith's entire body is tense, every muscle pulled taut.

"Okay," Shiro announces to the room, "Do you want to kill us, spirit?"

They wait in silence. Keith prays that Shiro can't hear his heartbeat.

Knock. 

Knock.

Keith lets out a shuddering breath. He waits for Shiro to react, but, strangely, he just sits there with a bored expression.

"Okay Keith, your turn." Shiro says, leaning back on his elbows.

Keith's mouth feels dry, but he plays along. If it's just Shiro playing a prank then he doesn't want to freak out and give him the satisfaction.

"Spirit," Keith starts, trying desperately to keep the panic out of his voice, "Do you want us to leave?"

The silence stretches on, only broken by Shiro shuffling a bit. It feels like something is hesitating, a tension settles between Keith and the open air. Finally an answer comes.

Knock.

The air stills for a moment, feeling so thick that Keith fears he would drown if he tried to breathe.

Knock.

Keith feels he relief lift a weight off his chest. Again, Shiro doesn't react.

"This is boring." He says from where he is now lounging on the floor across from Keith.

"Let's just do a couple more." Keith suggests, not quite ready to be left alone with whatever was in his room, if he isn't just going insane that is.

"Fine," Shiro agrees, blowing out a breath in boredom, "Alright ghosty-ghoul, do you want to be our wispy pal?"

"Shiro, that's so stupid." Keith says, rolling his eyes even though he knows his brother can't see it.

"Hush Keith, it's rude to interrupt our conversation." Shiro rebukes, listening intently.

Keith waits for the answer, doubting that a spirit would even bother to respond to such a dumb question.

Knock.

Keith tries to keep the stupid smile off his face. Either his brother is very good at acting, or a spirit just agreed to be his "wispy pal."

"Nice, okay, my turn," Keith isn't sure which direction to turn to better address the spirit, so he just looks slightly upward, "Do you need our help to, uh, y'know, move on?"

The room is silent again, even Shiro's ambient noise is down to a minimum.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

"What?" Keith whispers. Three knocks wasn't an answer.

"D'you hear something?" Shiro sits up.

"No, nothing." Keith plays along.

"Okay, it's been great little bro, but I got some interior decorating to figure out so I'll be going." Shiro gets up and collects his camera from the bed, "Let me know if the ghost decides to say hi."

"Will do." Keith responds, watching him leave. He exhales as the door swings shut behind his brother. 

"Okay spirit," He calls into the room, just quiet enough that prying ears couldn't hear, "What was that about? Three knocks isn't an answer choice. Did you mean no?"

Only a moment passes.

Knock.

Knock.

"Then what does it mean?" Keith asks, choking his fear back as best he can. Still, he can feel himself trembling. He waits for an answer. The silence grows into static again and his head hurts, feeling as though he was staring into a bright light, despite the thick darkness of the room.

"Ugh, stop." Keith groans, "Is it you that's been doing that?"

The pain fades away, the static melting back to silence.

Knock.

"Okay, got it." Keith mumbles, tucking his legs up and laying his chin on top, "I'll stick to yes or no questions."

The silence answers him, hanging for a moment in anticipation.

"The three knocks," Keith continues, "Did that mean yes?"

Knock.

Knock.

"Okay, did it mean . . . maybe?"

Knock.

"So you maybe need our help to move on?"

Knock.

"But you're not sure?"

Knock.

"Alright, well, I can work with this."

Keith smiles into the darkness, hoping against hope that he's not just crazy.