It didn’t quite have the effect H wanted, that being a complete removal of the fear and tension that gripped Moth, but it did ease a little more of the anxious energy. Moth did briefly glance away, though he did murmur out a more calm, “If’n you’re sure…”

            I am. Come with me, M-E-I-N F-R-E-U-N-D. The Horseman finished off his signing by reaching out to the cryptid, letting Moth’s hand clasp his before he gently closed his fingers and led his friend along, bringing him shoulder to shoulder as they continued to walk. Moth sighed, though let H pull him along, even as the thoughts trailed around his feet in anxious eddies. Perhaps the Horseman was right, and it wouldn’t come to anything.

            Or what if he was wrong? It still felt too soon to really know, and, for lack of anything better to do or say, Moth followed H in a somewhat hurried walk to catch up with Harriet and Brian. The pair had definitely slowed down a bit, not helped by the fact that they’d basically walked through someone’s yard and were about to cross the street. They’d both been looking back, watching as Moth and H drew level with them.

            “Did you get lost?” Harriet asked Moth, the cryptid jolting as he realized he was being addressed.

            “Huh?”

            “You were pretty far back, did Uncle H have to go get you?”

            The more detailed question thankfully did catch the Mothman up with the conversation, and what the pair of younger minds might’ve thought about what they were seeing. Especially since H was still keeping ahold of his hand, Moth giving a gentle squeeze as a signal he was alright and letting go of the Horseman’s hand.

            “O-Oh, ah, a lil’ bit. Sorry.”

            “It’s okay.” Harriet replied, her voice a little softer dealing with the more openly nervous cryptid. “Did you guys find anything?”

            H could tell that from Moth’s slightly widened eyes and telltale jolt underneath his coat, he’d somewhat forgotten why they’d even came out here.

            “I, ah, s-sorry, I—” 

            H hurriedly stepped a bit in between the children and Moth, signing out a reply.

            We were talking about what happened last night, though I haven’t seen anything.

            “You mean with how someone made you sick, and, y’know…” Brian seemed to realize that what he was going to say likely would be a bit of a sore spot for his sister. The boy glanced her way, though Harriet easily read into the moment with a dry look.

            “It’s okay, I know what you’re talking about.”

            All three other members of the conversation looked suitably chastened, Brian perhaps a little less so given that he only had so much to do with the whole sordid ordeal. However, this was the potent little nudge that the Horseman needed to, more or less, retake the tact he’d tried to follow before in the upstairs hall of their home.

            I am sorry about missing your party, K-L-E-I-N-E-R. I really don’t know what happened last night.

            “You don’t?” Harriet asked, having carefully watched her uncle’s fingers as he signed.

            No. I, I remember leaving the festival, but I did not make it home.

            “Has that ever happened to you before?” Brian asked, more curiosity making its way into his tone.

            There was a bit of a pause before the Horseman hesitantly signed: …Not recently.

            “When was the last time it happened?”

            Back before you were born. I was, having a hard time.

            “You…were sick a lot?” Harriet was the one to ask that question, though judging from the more worried look that Moth passed to his friend it was a bit more complicated than that.

            H, for his part, couldn’t find his words for a moment, a line of tension settling in on his shoulders before he let out an echoey sigh and plowed ahead.

            I was…not physically sick. But I was very unwell, and it made it…hard to get along with people. You may have noticed how your grandmother does not like having alcohol in the house, I am, partly the reason for that.

            “What, you mean like beer?” Brian asked, Harriet faintly frowning at the mention of the drink. She had a distinct memory of her dad letting her try wine while out at dinner, and she’d personally thought it tasted awful. She might not have known a lot about alcohol, but she had been told that a lot of them tasted like that, and therefore the idea that her uncle might’ve been into it seemed more gross than anything. “Did you steal beer?”

            No, no, I, acquired it all legal and above board. But, I… At this, the Horseman stalled again, trying to figure out his words for the two younger, more impressionable minds listening.

            I would, drink too much. I would drink to…deal with things I didn’t want to think about. It was wrong and I knew it, but, I did not think it mattered enough to stop.

            “Why not?” Harriet said, eyes searching over her uncle’s frame as she tried to figure out the, well, more unsaid parts of this. She could see Moth’s red eyes were furrowed, the cryptid not touching the Horseman but he’d moved closer, almost covering the Hessian’s back. Uncle H’s body, meanwhile, was both tense and slumped on his feet. He kind of had the look of someone who’d been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing, and pulled before potential consequences. Though, at her question, Harriet noticed how he didn’t really seem to be stalling on his words anymore, matter-of-factly answering the question as they slipped between a pair of houses into another neighborhood.  

            Well, I didn’t know your grandmother and mother yet. I didn’t really have a home then either. She took me into her home, and she forbade alcohol in the house. Really, I owe her a lot, she was the one that got me back on my feet after— The Hessian’s fingers abruptly cut off again, hands clenching like they were covering his mouth. He just as quickly lowered them, a new feeling of bottled frustration in his step as he traipsed over the asphalt of another street. He actually was outpacing the group a bit, Harriet, Brian, and even Moth needing to jog for a moment to catch up to him.

            “After what?” Harriet bleated out, somewhat breathless though her words did remind H of the current situation at hand, and checked his brewing, literally smoldering anger better than a bucket of water over an open flame. Immediately slowing down, the Horseman let the trio catch up, making sure they were all together on the sidewalk before he continued with a new note of contrition to his movements.

            After…something bad happened. I had some bad news about…something private.

            And that seemed to be where the Hessian wanted to end the conversation, his arm gesturing for them all to come along. They weren’t too far from the Old Dutch Church, and the boulevard where H would usually stand during the festival. But before they made it down the last stretch of residential street, Brian couldn’t help throwing out one last word.

            “…Uncle H, can I ask another question?”

            Yes? The Horseman signed after a slight pause.

            “…Are you saying that because it’s actually private, or are you saying that because we’re kids and you think we ‘won’t get it’?”

            The question wasn’t said with any real heat, though it had the slight petulance of a child tired of being fobbed off by adults. It was something that, didn’t go unmissed by the Horseman, given that he too knew the difficulties of being considered deficient or beneath notice. Once the whole ‘headless Hessian’ thing stopped being a deterrent, well…

            No, no, it’s actually private. Something I do not want to discuss, especially since it doesn’t have anything to do with what happened last night.

            “But you said that this sort of thing would only happen when you drank a lot? Maybe it does have something to do with it?” Harriet broke in this time, her mind grasping at what she had heard earlier on in the conversation. Though, for all her certainty, the Headless Horseman hardly seemed moved.

            …I don’t think so. For one, the…symptoms are off. I would have more memories of the night before if I had been drinking, even if I went overboard. Also, I was never really in pain. Maybe dizzy and tired, but pain isn’t normal for me when I, I drink. Which makes me think that what happened wasn’t so normal.

            “Oh. Okay.” The eleven-year-old girl replied, put out but not entirely deterred. Though a much more pressing distraction came in the form of the group passing in front of the fenced in area containing both the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, and the Old Dutch Church. The quartet headed up the street, standing at about where the Horseman and Jaeger would’ve been the night before. Or, well, at least that’s how it seemed to be to H’s own memory, though perhaps that was less reliable as of late…

            “You know what we should also be looking for?” Brian abruptly said, the rest of the party looking over at the words.

            “What?” Harriet asked, leaning around her uncle in order to properly see her brother.

            “The pumpkin. You didn’t come home with it, right?” The last question was directed at H, the Horseman’s body turning in askance to Moth. He had a feeling he’d been, well, headless, but if anyone would know…

            “…No, he didn’t.” Moth replied after a moment of thought, red eyes glancing around as he’d already cottoned onto what Brian was going to ask next.

            “I didn’t see it on the way. Do you see it here?”

            The boy’s sudden question was more of an open musing, but it was taken seriously by the undead Hessian, H standing still for a moment as he concentrated. Though, whatever internal read he got from the scene, it didn’t register as helpful given the utter lack of a reaction, his fingers coming up after a moment to sign out a reply.

            No. I actually, don’t feel anything.

            “…Huh?” Both Harriet and Brian grunted, looking at their uncle like he was speaking in an entirely different language. The Hessian let out a somewhat tired sigh before he signed out a clarification.

            I don’t feel the pumpkin. If it were just lying on the side of the road, I’d still be able to see out of it. Especially if I got close. But, nothing. I don’t feel it at all.

            “Okay, so stand over here.” Brian said, he and Harriet dragging H by his arms a few feet up the street, Moth following along in more amused silence. “What about now?”

            No. The Horseman signed, exasperation very much beginning to show in his body language though before he could go on Brian continued to talk.

            “Okay, we’ll try over here.”

            Brian I don’t think— H started to say, right before the twelve-year-old cut him off with another question.

            “How close do you have to be for it to work?”

            …Well, it was a fair enough thing to ask, the Hessian giving it a moment of honest thought before he signed out a response.

            Maybe about ten feet? I’ve never really tested.

            “Alright, we’ll work on that when we get it back. Stand over here.” Even though Brian felt he had a very good strategy, the Headless Horseman was less than convinced judging by the slumped, utterly done demeanor he wore like a heavy shroud.

            Brian. I don’t think it’s here.

            “Well, how do you know? We haven’t even crossed the street yet.” Harriet broke in, H giving a tired sigh as he pulled back and signed,

            You are not dragging me through weekend traffic to find a jack-o-lantern. I’d rather go to Schmidt’s and just get a new one. Besides, I really, really don’t think it’s near here at all. I don’t see my phone or the keychain either.

            “…Okay.” Brian sullenly replied, Harriet looking similarly morose at the rebuttal. Their frustrated expressions eased the Horseman from his more short-tempered frame of mind, tense shoulders softening into something calmer and warm as he gently tousled the kids’ hair.

            I appreciate the effort though. Let’s go home and see about where to go from here.

            The signs, though ultimately silent, did ease the put-out frustration gripping the pair, the harder lines in Brian and Harriet’s faces softening at the gentler ‘words’. The Hessian began to escort the pair back down the street, his line of sight briefly turning to see that Moth was following. However, as the Hessian turned back to fully face forward, his ‘gaze’ lit on a bottle that had been left on the brick wall surrounding the cemetery.

            It was unmarked, and empty, but somehow the Horseman knew it was meant for alcohol. Perhaps it was the conversation they’d been having on the way over, but something about it made him pause.

            Briefly, it was like someone had shone a light in a dark room, a voice flickering from somewhere in H’s mind. It felt more dreamlike than a memory, but the words came through crystal clear, the Horseman feeling like the speaker was standing right next to him.

            “C’mon, one won’t hurt!”

            The odd mental spell was over the instant the Horseman registered it, making him almost wish he had a proper head to shake. It would’ve helped dispel it much faster, though his stalling caught the attention of the others all the same.

 “H? You good?” Moth asked from a half-step behind him, also glancing at the bottle though he could hardly see anything too odd about it. The Horseman yanked himself back to the present, hurriedly signing out a response.

            Might’ve just remembered something. Let’s just go home, we can try to put in a word about the missing things to the police, Hartford knows me, he’ll listen.

            Moth, didn’t look totally pacified by this, and Harriet and Brian were staring at their uncle in askance, but the Hessian was insistent, gesturing the children along and Moth following out of habit.

            They picked up speed the further they got from the church, heading back the way they came and away from the busy traffic of Sleepy Hollow following Halloween.