Chapter Text
In a world in which string theory exists, one Arthur Kingsman, in a moment of absolute and genuine peace, fulfilled his Final Wish. In this same world one Lewis Pepper, screaming internally with pain that had festered for three years, unfettered and unfounded, threw Arthur Kingsman off a cliff to his certain death as punishment for an act that had not been his choice.
In the same instance that Lewis realized his mistake too late, Arthur impacted a spike at the end of his long fall. In the same instance that Lewis screamed out Arthur's name, that Vivi screamed in fear, that Lance emptied his double-barrel into Shiromori's back, that Mystery roared in fury, Arthur exploded into a burst of violent electric light.
Lemon-lime and rotting peat tore outward in arcs of orange-yellow grapefruit pain pain why would you not again I came to peace why would you—?!!!
Arthur's chest swelled and a large behemoth—disproportionate arms, small legs, body covered in faces that were Arthur's in pain, choking, screaming, howling, laughing—burst forth, scrabbling for purchase on the slick cave walls. It screeched incoherently, setting off vibrant waves of God no please I made peace why here why now would you why why why why why why—
It stuttered, skipping a frame, faces spread like a flushed hand of cards, then singular, eye sockets wide in confusion. It glitched, body sputtering into static sparks and shrinking as it shed the excess weight upwards into—into—? It jolted, a marionette with strings cut, falling forward to its knees, tears floating upward in defiance of gravity. Its bright, ethereal form snapped, like a released rubber band, into a mockery of Arthur, skull face unsure, hair made of plasma tamed to familiarity, hands bones, clothes mere tattered remains of his own.
The thing that had been Arthur but could not be Arthur stood up, legs shaking. It placed skeletal hands against its face, feeling the ridges of its skull, dipping pinkies into its eye sockets and withdrawing in pain. The three buttons on its vest glowed, pulsing with the purpose of an Anchor. It looked up at the top of the cave and saw the silhouette of its friend and heard the battle going on outside. It swallowed, a reflex from a time when it was alive and needed to, and said four words, in a voice that was far too loud for a body that slight.
"THEY NEEDS US, LEWIS."
In the space between space, Lewis Pepper stood, naked and confused. He looked down at his hands and frowned with a human face and human skin and human organs but he was—
In the space between space was Arthur.
Not the Arthur that was leading him to save Vivi and Mystery and Lance from that plant woman, but the Arthur that had appeared immediately upon his death. The behemoth made of death and pain and anger and everything else.
It fixed him with a dozen faces of agony. YOU DID THIS TO ME! YOU KILLED ME! AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN! Its head tilted and cracked at an unnatural angle and it scuttled forward with speed far greater than its size should allow. Lewis wanted to keep away but he couldn't move, here in the—
"I'm so so sorry, Artie. I was angry. It doesn't excuse what I did but—"
MURDERER! YOU KILLED ME AGAIN AND AGAIN! AND YOU GET AWAY SCOT-FREE EACH TIME! UNFAIR! UNFAIR! IF I HURT IT'S MY FAULT BUT YOU, THE GOLDEN BOY, GET A FREE PASS! EVEN FROM ME!
"I don't understand?" Lewis tried to—
Arthur sneered, YOU DON'T?! OF COURSE YOU DON'T! LITTLE LEWIS NEVER HAS TO FEAR DEATH AGAIN! LITTLE LEWIS DIDN'T DIE BY BETRAYAL, BUT BY DEMON! LITTLE LEWIS DIDN'T KNOW DIDN'T KNOW DIDN'T KNOW DIDN'T KNOW DIDN'T KNOW DIDN'T—
Lewis wanted to yell out at—
Yell at—
At—?
In front of him was a large monster—
A prone body—
In front of him was nothing.
Lance Kingsman supported his nephew. That was truth. His boy—fuck the parents that abandoned him at such a soft age—was into some odd shit, sure, with that Yukino gal and her love of the supernatural. And sure, their friend, that Pepper kid, had gone missing a while back. And sure, even if the Peppers didn't think so, Arthur believed with all of him that Lewis was still alive. But there was a line to be drawn in the sand and that line was right fucking here.
With his boy's van impacting the side of his shop, a spectral semi parked next to it, a demon-tree-lady trying to kill Vivi Yukino, and her damn dog now much bigger, less of a dog, and also on fire.
There's the fucking line.
He's willing to put up with a lot, for Arthur's sake, just not fucking this!
Still, he wouldn't let that damn demon thing take Vivi off at the neck-meat, so he unloaded his gun into her back, hoping it would be enough. As she turned her head around like some sort of monster from those J-horror flicks Arthur watched—the irony not lost on him in the moment—he realized it might not be enough. Especially when her flesh knit back together and she looked at him like he was some sort of appetizer.
"Now see here, ma'am," he started, but she cut him off with a mirthless laugh.
"Migi," she yelled back to Vivi's not-dog, eyes wild, "the mortals you've found are more interesting than last time! I can see why you're so attached!"
"Don't touch them!" Mystery—yeah, that was the damn mutt's name—snarled. The demon laughed again and opened those fuckall shears.
"Or what, Migi? They're so fragile, these humans. Why wouldn't they be due for a little pruning?" She sneered and Mystery stepped forward.
"Or I'll—"
"BACK OFF!"
"Vivi!"
Two new voices called out, a wave of magenta fire and vibrant yellow lightning slamming into her back and sending her reeling. The lightning ripped around Lance and formed a small bubble of sorts, keeping him contained. The fire surrounded Vivi, doing the same. Lance looked over to see who had saved him and stopped, stock still. As did Mystery and Vivi. The demon-lady was the only one unaffected by their arrival, still reeling from their attack.
Two ghosts—they had to be that, those spectral things floating above the ground just so, eyes pinpricks of light in hollow sockets, hands crackling with elemental energies—were just behind the semi. One of them was tall and broad, its motif similar to the skulls and roses that patterned the semi, done in the same magenta that made up its hair. Its eyes were narrow and locked on the demon, small spirits flickering behind and around it. The other was tall and thin, hunched in on itself, wearing worn and tattered clothing that was familiar in a way that hurt, eyes cast to the ground, despite the yellow electricity that cast off its form in wide parabolas. It clutched at its left arm, fully made of lighting, with its right, which was a more skeletal limb. Despite them being beside one another, neither ghost seemed comfortable around the other.
Mystery was the first to speak, eyes wild, muzzle pulled into a feral snarl. "Lewis Pepper, what have you done?!"
"NOW'S NOT THE TIME," the thin ghost answered, in lieu of the broad ghost who looked very ashamed for some reason. The thin ghost's voice was...was—?
(Wait, did that mean the broader ghost was Lewis? That Pepper boy was dead? Or, rather, undead?! Then what had Arthur been—)
"When will be the time?" Mystery asked.
"AFTER WE'VE DEALT WITH SHIROMORI!" Mystery bristled at the thin ghost's answer, but nodded. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW TO DEAL WITH HER?"
"If I had more of my tails, yes, but it would take another hundred years for me to grow another. She took two of them long ago."
"Wait," Vivi said, conscious enough to speak and just as confused looking as Lance felt, "are you saying that this ghost is the Lewis that Arthur's been looking for? His boyfriend?!"
The thin ghost shrank down again, its hair bristling upwards in what might have been embarrassment. Lewis looked over at the thin ghost in shock. "Boyfriend?!"
"SHE DOESN'T REMEMBER YOU, ASSHOLE! YOU BLEW YOUR DYING WISH ON MAKING HER FORGET!" The thin ghost gestured about. Its loud voice made Lance's heart hurt but—
"Oh, fuck." Before Lewis could say more, Shiromori the demon-tree-lady lashed out at him with her giant shears, eyes wild again. "Oh fuck!"
"Can't you stay out of my business, ghost?! I just want the fox, the rest are yours if you like? Though," she sneered, "I may take the blue one. She reminds me of something I hate."
The thin ghost met Lance's eyes, inextricably sad, and he could hear its voice inside his head say LOAD YOUR GUN. IT WON'T KILL HER, BUT IT MAY BUY SOMEONE SOME TIME. I THINK MYSTERY MAY HAVE SOMETHING.
Before he could question it, the thin ghost drew Shiromori's attention and ire by planting its hands on her back and sending volt after volt into her back. She shrieked and turned to that one while Lewis withdrew to recoup. "NO ONE HERE LIKES YOU, SHIROMORI!"
"What do you know? Newly-deceased and you contain multitudes! You could be more if you let yourself feel, little ghost!" She jumped at the thin ghost and it fended her off with waves of stuttering power crafted into shields. "Why side with the living? With the mortals?!"
Mystery, free of her gaze, moved closer to Lewis than Shiromori, his tails whipping about. He seemed to say something to Lewis. Meanwhile, Vivi grasped for her bat again, picking up the bent piece of stainless steel and shaking some greenish ichor off of its surface. She met Lance's eyes and nodded.
He didn't know what that meant, but it had to be something good. He nodded back.
"BECAUSE I CARE! AND YOU? MIGI DOESN'T WANT YOU ANY MORE AND YET YOU CONTINUE TO CHASE HIM LIKE A JILTED LOVER!" That gave Shiromori pause and the thin ghost rippled like snow on a television and was gone. She turned around, looking for it.
"How dare you!"
"It's true though," Mystery said. "I left because I was done. You have to accept that."
"But, see, I'm not done with you."
"Nah, but we are." Lewis gave what might have been a smile if he had a lower jaw. The fire around Vivi and the lighting around Lance disappeared as the two ghosts and Mystery focused their energies on large circular construct that surrounded Shiromori.
Red, magenta, and yellow rippled around the demon-tree and she howled in fury, slamming her shears against the transparent barrier that kept her inside the boundary. Roots whipped up and writhed against the boundary. She screamed and raged. Still it held firm.
"SHIROMORI, JUBOKKO OF THE WHITE FOREST, WE BIND YOU." The thin ghost said, loud voice much louder in the moment. It stood tall, arms held wide as it did its magic shit.
(Lance felt proud of—)
"To soil and fertile home we bind you." Lewis said, his fire raging as the spirits with him hummed in harmony at his side.
(Of—?)
"To past, present, and future we bind you." Mystery said, his voice low and pained, his blood marking the circle they were around.
(???)
"To life and death we bind you."
"TO LIGHT AND DARK WE BIND YOU."
"To all that is we bind you."
"In fading spirit—"
"Strength of heart—"
"AND DYING WISH WE BIND YOU!"
(His heart, his chest, clenching for his—for his—for—?)
Shiromori screamed, louder now, and more real, if that could even be quantified by voices. Before, her voice had been echoy and faint, a quality of unknown in it that was also found in Mystery and Lewis and the unknown ghost's voices as well. That was leaving, being replaced with raw emotion.
"Please don't leave me! Please!" She sobbed.
"In regrets shared, we bind you." Mystery's tails drooped.
"In dreams undreamt, we bind you." Lewis's hair was less now, wispy flickers of fire curling across his crown.
"IN LIVES LIVED, WE BIND YOU." The thin ghost was standing now, as opposed to the floating it had been doing before.
(Lance wanted to rush to its aid, to scold it, to—)
Shiromori cried harder, roots around her curling about and forming a large dome that encased her and closed in tighter and tighter. "Please! I need you! You're home! You're my home!"
"IN TIME PASSED, DEATHS SUFFERED, AND RESENTMENT FOUND, WE BIND YOU." The thin ghost was wavering again, like static in real life. If ghosts could look winded, this one did.
(Take a break, kid, before you pass out. Before you pass out. Before you pass—)
"In fears unfounded, assumptions had, and armies gathered, we bind you." Lewis, too, looked close to passing out, his spirit friends gone.
"In lies told, secrets kept, and centuries coveted, we bind you." Mystery was panting. Whatever it is that they were doing was taking its toll on all three and Lance was unsure if it was enough.
If they were enough.
If Arthur—
Arthur?
Arthur!
Lance stepped forward and grabbed the thin ghost's shoulder, startling him. The ghost didn't move though, too busy channeling his energy (life, he was giving up his life as he went) to bind and seal Shiromori. Never mind that there were two other people willing to help. Never mind that they could be just as good.
"You and your damn martyr complex," he hissed, smiling. Then he turned to the circle and thought long and hard about his life, about his path to this point. About helping his family when they needed him most. "In love received and given, we bind you." A wave of exhaustion swept over him. He could hear the scared yelps of the thin ghost enter his mind.
WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!
Helping. You don't have to do it alone, you know...
Vivi joined in, her face grim. "In history shared, we bind you." The circle surged.
YOU MIGHT DIE!
"In wrongs committed, we bind you."
And you won't?
"In music heard, we bind you."
THAT'S NOT THE POINT! I'M ALREADY—!
"In mistakes fixed, we bind you."
But it is, isn't it?
"IN MEMORIES RECOUNTED, WE BIND YOU."
Shiromori was being crushed by the roots, smaller and smaller still. In addition to the red and magenta and yellow from before, dusty orange and bright cyan added to the magic that surrounded her and even someone like Lance, inexperienced as he was with supernatural hullabaloo, could tell it was stronger for it.
Because, like always, you wanna just rush headlong in and not consult a damn person bout nothing!
"In homes found, we bind you."
And you won't listen to nobody who cares, coz you think y'ain't worth spit.
"In meals prepared, we bind you."
No matter what everyone else says to the contrary.
"In miles traveled, we bind you."
No matter what anyone else does to prove otherwise.
"In mornings met, we bind you."
Because—
"In moments appreciated, we bind you."
Despite it all—
"In stars counted, we bind you."
You can't see how loved you are, Arthur.
"IN TRUTH AND NAME, WE BIND YOU."
"Shiromori, white forest, Jubokko grown on the grave of Yoshiko, nurtured by blood of Migi and innocents, we bind you here. Be at peace and to peace, return." Mystery finished, a surge of energy ripping through the roots that had pressed Shiromori into a small capsule.
Inside rested a single flower, pure white, untouched. They had done it. The evil was defeated.
Ears ringing, the world tilted and Lance found himself slipping fast.
There was nothing.
There was Arthur.
Not the Arthur of now, the tired young man who gave and gave and gave until he was nothing. The young man who died early, who was dead now, who was dead!
This was the Arthur that came to live with Lance so many years ago. This was a small child.
Arthur cried, long and hard. Lance couldn't move, here in—
Arthur cried harder. I'M SCARED!
"I know, kiddo."
EVERYTHING HURTS! EVERYTHING I TOUCH GETS HURT! IF I'M NOT CAREFUL, I'LL HURT YOU TOO!
Lance grimaced. "Now listen here," he tried to reach out to—
I'M SO SORRY! SO SCARED! SORRYSCAREDSORRYSCAREDSORRYSCAREDSORRY—
He wanted to answer—
To answer—
Who was that again? Where was he?
Before him stood a small—
Stood a hunched and guarded—
Was—
Before him was nothing.
Vivi saw Mystery first, to her relief. Even if that magenta ghost was Arthur's Lewis, she didn't trust him. And, while she did love Uncle Lance, she wanted something from home to hold on to. She wrapped her arms around her dog—could that even hold, now that she knew he was a kitsune?—and hugged him close.
"I'm glad you're okay," he said and, sure, that's a weird one, but she'd get over it.
"You and I will be having a talk later, vis-a-vis this kitsune thing." She muttered into his ear. She could feel him stiffen. Good. "Don't think I'll forget either."
A loud groan accompanied by a blue streak of swearing meant that Lance was awake too. Vivi gingerly stood up and hobbled over to him. She felt like she ran a marathon. "Morning, old fart."
"Eat shit, Yukino." He waved a hand at her, eliciting a giggle. "Do you feel like you went ten rounds against a wall?"
"More like a tourney against a bear, but same hat."
"Fucking millenials and their shitty slang...," he grumped, sitting up. "And you lot?"
Lewis was sitting, cross-legged, in the air with a few of his spirit buddies. The heart above his left breast pocket pulsed stronger than when she last saw it, the golden color bright and vibrant. His hair was lit too, back in perfect coiffed shape. He nodded. "Thanks, Uncle Lance. If it weren't for you and Vivi, we might not have finished."
"So that bitch is gone? Good." Lance snorted and looked about, eyes glancing over Mystery as he searched. "And the other one?"
The thin ghost waved gently from its place on the ground. "FEEL LIKE SHIT STILL. DUNNO IF IT'LL EVER STOP, BUT BEING CONFINED TO ONE FORM WILL DO THAT TO YA."
Lance stood up too fast and staggered. Vivi shot an arm out to stop him from falling over, but the other ghost had practically teleported to his side. "Fucker," he grumped, eyes kind and smile sad.
"LOOK, I'M—"
"Okay, I've been more than patient," Mystery fixed Lewis with a heavy glare. Even back in smaller doggy form, he had one helluva glare. "Spill, Pepper."
"About?" Vivi got the sense that Lewis was being purposefully obtuse.
"You damn know what about. Shiromori is dealt with. I want some answers."
"So do I," Lance said, surprising Vivi. She looked between all four of them and pouted.
"Am I the only one who doesn't have a dog in this race?" No one answered her.
If ghosts could sweat, Lewis would be doing so. It only took a couple more seconds before both ghosts were clamoring over one another to speak.
"I thought that he had—"
"HE DIDN'T KNOW THAT—"
"And the cave, right where I—"
"YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED THEN, BUT—"
"I felt so bad about it but it was—"
"ALL THINGS CONSIDERED, WASN'T THE WORST THING HE COULD HAVE—"
"And then he said—"
"BUT WE HAD TO—"
"Enough!" The force behind Mystery's yell shocked both into quiet obedience, their skulls shrinking down to rest in their collar bones. "Just...answer in the shortest way possible, Lewis. I'll get your side first."
Lewis raised his head up and seemed to steel himself for the oncoming storm. He refused to meet Vivi's eyes, for some reason. Lance leaned forward to listen to what Lewis had to say.
"That," Lewis admitted, slowly, scared, "is my fault. I threw him off a copy of the same cliff I died by. In the same cave, more or less, or a replica of it. So...he died..."
That told no one anything, but it seemed to satisfy Mystery, who nodded and turned to the other ghost. "Now you. Explain."
"LEWIS DIDN'T KNOW THAT THE PERSON THAT PUSHED HIM WASN'T ME. HE ALSO DIDN'T KNOW YOU TOOK THE DEMON OUT WITH MY ARM THAT NIGHT. SO HE GOT HIS REVENGE, KINDA SORTA. AND...TA-DA..."
Lewis died in a cave. A cave where Mystery was. Where a cliff was. Where someone lost an arm. Where—
"Wait," Vivi said, "where's Arthur?"
The thin ghost looked as sheepish as a skeleton could. It raised a hand, the one that was made of lightning, in greeting. "HI, VI. SORRY FOR DYING..."
Oh.
Oh?
"Excuse me?!" She was livid, marching towards Arthur's fucking ghost and preparing her bat. "You wanna run that by me again, Kingsman? Coz it sure as shit sounded like you said you shuffled off this mortal coil."
"N-NOW VIVI. PLEASE DON'T PUT THAT BAT AGAINST ME. I DON'T THINK I HAVE ENOUGH OF A GRASP ON BEING A GHOST YET TO REFORM IF YOU HIT ME WITH IT." Arthur fucking Kingsman's fucking ghost held his hands up in fear and placation. That was weakness to a Yukino. That was death. Again. Fuck.
"And the perpetrator of this is the guy you spent so long trying to find?! Don't think I'll let that go, mister. You're next!"
Lewis laughed, nervous. "Same as always, huh?"
"I'D SAY 'THE MORE IT CHANGES' AND SO ON, BUT THAT SEEMS REDUNDANT AT THIS POINT..."
"Why are you so chummy with him?! He killed you!"
"IT WAS A MISUNDERSTANDING!"
That was the wrong thing to say. "Misunderstanding?! He killed you, Artie! Fuck misunderstanding!"
"Now, Vivi," Lance started but she was having none of it.
"A misunderstanding is ordering the Lo Mein instead of the Chow Mein. A misunderstanding is picking up someone's Starbucks order. A misunderstanding is funny and unavoidable. This is not!" She was reaching the point of hysteria now, but who could blame her. Not Arthur, for sure, who had fucking died. Not Lance, who had lost his nephew. Not Mystery, who was a fucking liar and had no say in things.
"IT'S OKAY, VI. JUST...LET HIM SHOW YOU SOMETHING." Arthur looked back at Lewis and gestured at her with a sharp head jerk. "YOU GOTTA KNOW THAT I WOULDN'T ENDANGER YOU, RIGHT?"
"She does that well enough on her own," Lance said dryly. Mystery snorted.
"Look, I fucked up. But, um, this might help." And Lewis sent his heart towards her again, the large golden shape pulsing and drawing her closer and closer still.
She wanted to open it, like she did back in the manor. Back before Arthur dragged her away. Before Arthur—
She stared at him, eyes wide and full of fear. He nodded, subtly, and she reached out to Lewis's heart. It opened and inside—
Inside this strange darkness was Arthur.
Not the Arthur of now, dead but comfortable around everyone, joking and laughing like it was all normal. No, this was the Arthur she had seen in the hospital, right after the accident involving Lewis and Mystery and his arm.
This Arthur was hollow, dressed in hospital scrubs, an empty sleeve on his left side. His eyes were ringed with purple-green gradient rings and his cheeks were sunken in and ragged. His hair was greasy and his skin pale and sweating. She wanted to hold him but she couldn't move, here inside of—
NOTHING I DO WILL EVER MATTER, WILL IT? WE'RE ALL DESTINED TO DIE ANYWAY, SO WHY BOTHER TRYING? WHY STAY ALIVE IF DEATH COMES IN THE END, VIVI?
She didn't have an immediate answer for him, caught wholly off-guard with him even being here, inside—
Arthur continued, BUT I'M ALREADY THERE, SO WHAT DOES THAT MEAN FOR ME? FOR YOU? TWO OUT OF THREE IS MONTY HALL, VI. YOU CAN'T AVOID IT FOREVER.
"I can damn well try." She grimaced at him, kicking about—
BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER, DOES IT? NOTHING MATTERS. NOTHING EVER MATTERS. NOTHING I'M THIS WORLD EVER MATTERS. NOTHING YOU DO WILL EVER MATTER. NOTHING YOU WILL EVER DO WILL MATTER. NOTHING MATTERS.
She wanted to hit—
To smack sense into—
To—?
Inside this strange darkness was a man—
Was a hollow shell—
Inside was—
And—
Inside there was darkness.
Mystery understood what was going on, but it didn't mean he had to like it. He never would, even if it became the normal of their group.
A kitsune, two ghosts, and a human walk into a bar. The bartender has dusted the window sills with salt. He keeps a gun under the cashwrap. It isn't a joke any more. It never was, really, just the setup for something tragic.
Arthur was—
That was the hardest part. He could handle Lewis. He knew Lewis was gone; had since the cave. There was no way he could have survived that fall and Vivi forgetting him was all the proof he needed. That kind of memory loss, without trauma and distress, was only available through a Dying Wish.
Lewis had died in that cave. Fact.
The manor had only reinforced that knowledge and, while he could have convinced Vivi to sit down and examine Lewis's Anchor, he didn't because he saw the hatred that Lewis had for Arthur and that was dangerous. So they ran and then Shiromori and—
Looks like Lewis got what he wanted, in the end. And, if that wasn't insulting enough, Arthur came back as a ghost, no Dying Wish as far as Mystery could tell, and helped them end Shiromori.
Shiromori who grew upward on a small knoll, petals searching for the sun that had set a while ago, leaves small and trembling in the autumn breeze. Mystery felt a small sense of duty to this plant, this child, this reminder of his last failures.
But then again, he was surrounded by them. The ghost of one of his kits that he failed to save three years ago, the ghost of one of his kits that he failed to protect from anger that was unjust, the flower that had started so many years of lying and running, and the body that held the soul of the woman that freed him from his prison so many centuries ago. Two deaths, wholly preventable, one life, undone and unmade, and one life, stolen and sharing space with something foreign. All his fault.
As Vivi regained her memories, sitting gently in Lewis's lap, Lance confronted Arthur, who continued to try and curl in on himself. He seemed unsure of his own skills as a ghost which, considering his recent death, was a fair assumption.
But he had known who Shiromori was and who Migi was. He had known how to bind her and what to give. He had given long after Lewis had started to falter.
What was this Arthur? Was this even really Arthur?
What happened in that cave?
"I KNOW, IT'S REALLY SHITTY OF ME TO NOT SAY ANYTHING BUT, CAN YOU BLAME ME? WE WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIGHT WITH A DEMON! I THINK I'M ALLOWED SECRETS THEN."
Lance sternly shook his head, "Kid, you'd forget to tell me your arm had gotten ripped off if it weren't for the fact that it was so damn obvious. Don't fucking test me."
Arthur flickered with waves of shit fuck whoops oh jeeze yeah and bobbed a bit. "FAIR ENOUGH. THOUGH I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN CONTINUE WORKING AT KINGSMAN'S LIKE THIS. MOST PEOPLE IN TEMPO KNOW I'M NOT THE GOTH TYPE AND, IF I COME BACK AND MANAGE TO LEARN HOW TO CONSTRUCT MY FACE AND SO ON, I DON'T THINK I CAN CHANGE MY CLOTHES TOO. THIS SHIT'S IT FOR ME." He gestured to his tattered clothes, the large hole in his spine visible though his shirt and vest. It was then that Mystery noticed his Anchors.
Three of them. That was unusual enough but each one glowed a different way and—
Two of the three were dimmer than the rest. The third still glowed with the strength and power of a healthy ghost.
Arthur seemed to notice that Mystery was staring and stopped talking to Lance, his body rolling like a TV settling on one channel. "YEAH?"
"Can I talk to you, in private?" Mystery ignored the look that Lance gave him as well as the loud sobbing of Vivi waking up and clutching on to Lewis.
"Can I talk to you in private?" Lance, a grown-ass adult mocked him.
"UM...SURE...I GUESS..." Arthur looked apprehensive, eye lights darting from side to side. "I'LL CATCH UP. JUST GET A HEAD START, YEAH?"
Mystery nodded and bounded off, filling out without fear of Shiromori tracking him, until he came to a rest in a small patch of flowers. Then he waited. The off-putting smell of bright orange and ozone preceded Arthur's appearance, but he arrived nonetheless. Like turning on a CRT monitor, Arthur blipped into form next to Mystery and looked nervously at him.
"SO...I'M PRETTY SURE I KNOW WHY YOU WANNA TALK TO ME, BUT SHOOT."
"What are you?" There really was no dancing around this. It was pointless to. Both of them knew it.
"DEAD? I'M A GHOST, MYSTERY." If Arthur was feeling any pressure, he didn't show it.
"You know what I mean. You knew who Shiromori was without me telling you. You knew the name Migi, which no one else did. You have the control and strength of a ghost that's been around for decades but you've only been dead for a few hours. You knew how to do that ritual. Also," Mystery added, eyeing Arthur the whole time, "you're very calm for someone who died in a traumatic enough fashion to make a ghost."
Silence, not oppressive, but blanketing. Neither of them moved, but lighting crackled across Arthur's skin and Mystery's tails twitched. Then Arthur smiled and it was sad. Lonely. Caught red-handed.
"YOU GOT ME." He laughed, once. "FIGURES. YOU ALWAYS KNEW WHEN SHIT WAS WRONG." A deep breath, unneeded but calming. Mystery watched Arthur pull his legs beneath him and sit mid-air. Then he gently floated back to rest on the ground. "I SUPPOSE, FROM YOUR PROSPECTIVE, I'VE ONLY BEEN DEAD FOR A FEW HOURS. FOR ME IT'S BEEN CLOSER TO FIFTY OR SO YEARS."
"What?" This made Mystery pull back, confused and worried.
"THE FALL KILLED ME AND I WISHED TO FIX EVERYTHING. MAKE EVERYTHING BETTER. SO MY WISH THREW ME FROM ONE VERSION OF ME TO ANOTHER. I TRIED TO MAKE SURE EVERYONE WAS HAPPY. THEN I KINDA...," he waved his hand in a roundabout manner, "LOST IT. IN THE END, I BECAME SOMETHING TERRIBLE, AND THE VIVI AND LEWIS AND YOU OF THAT TIMELINE HAD ENOUGH. THEY PUT ME TO REST AND...I WOKE UP HERE, A GHOST IN MY OWN TIME, UNSURE OF WHAT TO DO."
He took a moment to stare at the sky, watching clouds pass through the dark blue above. "AND I THINK MY JOB HERE, IN MY OWN TIME, IN MY OWN...BODY IS TO...SAY MY FAREWELLS. I DON'T THINK I HAVE THE ENERGY TO REMAIN HERE FOR MUCH LONGER." He tapped his chest, indicating the three pins on his vest. The star pin was glowing bright, thrumming to the beat his heart would have kept, but the round one was dull and unmoving and the skull was dulling and slowing. "ALREADY GAVE UP MY FEELINGS TOWARDS LEWIS AND VIVI AND LANCE. PROBABLY NEED TO MAKE SURE I'M FINE WITH YOU AND THEN JUST...GHOST?" Arthur made a 'shitty pun' face and Mystery grimaced in response.
"MAYBE I WAS MEANT TO MAKE AMENDS? OR JUST TO LET GO? I'M DONE HOLDING ON TO PAIN AND FEAR SO I THINK THAT'S ALL I CAN DO, RIGHT?" He met Mystery's eyes, sad and empty. At peace. There was no fear there.
"And not tell them? Disappear when they just got each other back? Let them think you left for other reasons? How is this not as selfish as sticking around?!" He didn't mean to snap but—
Arthur smiled. It was sad and hollow. "FAIR. I JUST...DON'T KNOW WHICH WILL HURT MORE: LEAVING WITHOUT A WORD OR LETTING THEM KNOW I'M GOING OUT? AND IF I DO LET THEM KNOW, WHAT'S TO STOP THEM FROM TRYING TO 'SAVE' ME?" His face pinched. "I DON'T WANT THAT. I DON'T NEED THAT. I'M DONE AND THEY NEED TO LET GO. I NEED TO LET GO."
"I—" Mystery choked back his immediate reaction, pulling back to think about his words. Then he started again, "I'll make sure your wishes are honored." He fell into silence before he continued. "Almost fifty years?"
"I—" Arthur's face contorted weirdly, then he smiled, "I DON'T THINK I EVER GAVE YOU THE FULL STORY. ABRIDGED, MAYBE, BUT..." He gave pause, tapping his fingers together. "I DON'T THINK IT MATTERS NOW. TELLING YOU WOULDN'T REALLY DO ANYTHING FOR ANYONE. JUST MAKE US SAD."
"That's fair."
They fell into silence again. Arthur tapped his Anchors, "I...THINK I MAY HAVE LET THEM KNOW...SOMEHOW...THAT I WAS LEAVING? THOSE EMOTIONS I GAVE THEM...THEY'RE MOST STRONGLY TIED TO EACH OF THEM. AM I RECONCILING BY GIVING THEM UP? AM I...BROKEN IN THAT WAY?"
"There's no...right way to grieve. Nor is there a right way to heal either." He didn't know if he was doing it right. Comforting. Being good for him. It was...hard. Mystery didn't know how to feel about any of this. "I don't think you're wrong though..."
"SHOULD I JUST GO? LEAVE? LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT?"
"Fuck no," Mystery laughed, a rough bark of surprise. "Say goodbye. Wrap up your story. Give it an end."
"WHAT DID WE EVER DO TO DESERVE YOU?" Arthur smiled gently at him, even without a jaw.
"You existed."
"...DAMN...WE HIT THE FUCKING LOTTERY."
Arthur could feel the beat of his Anchors slowing, the skull pin almost dimmed, the star pin dimming some. It was...scary to think he was done. That this was his journey's end. That this was it.
He was ready but—
He was worried they weren't.
Vivi and Lewis were laughing, jostling into one another and making small jokes they couldn't over the last three years. Lance, eyes closed, was leaning against Kingsman's, Gallahad curled up in his lap with a mouthful of bolts. Mystery padded in after him as Arthur himself returned to the scene of the crime, downcast.
"Art!" Lewis perked up, his hair poofing slightly, accompanied by the smell of toasted marshmallows. "You're back!"
"YEAH...," he rubbed his arm, a habit, it seemed, he'd never be rid of, "NOT FOR LONG THOUGH...SORRY..."
To his surprise, no one seemed upset or confused by this. In fact, Lance, Vivi, and Lewis just smiled at him, eyes soft and welcoming. "Fuck, so soon?"
"I just got my boys back!" Vivi complained. "Un. Fair."
"YOU...AREN'T UPSET?" He didn't know how to react, though he could feel Mystery's smug grin burn into the back of his kneecaps.
"I think...," Vivi said, thinking about each word before finishing it, "that I already kinda knew? Like...when I was remembering Lew, I was...in this place and...you just..." She shrugged, unsure of how to finish that statement.
"When I left the cave with you I saw that thing you were for a moment after dying and...I think that was what gave me the peace of mind to not worry. Besides," Lewis gave Arthur a half-smile, "I can hear your Anchor slowing. I know what that means."
Lance heaved himself up, Gallahad zipping away with a grumpy chitter, "I figured, with your track record so far, if you were staying, you would find some way to make it tragic." Tears glittered in his eyes but he was smiling and it was sincere and loving. "Leaving is, by far, the best option my brain thought of."
"YOU GUYS..." He was overwhelmed with a warmth that he didn't know how to deal with. It was—
Was—
Was—!
"Now c'mon, nerd, let's get your van in working order one last time!" Lewis slapped him on the back, wincing at the arcs of energy that traveled up his arm.
"Our van, asshole," Vivi corrected. Lewis sighed, mock-weary.
"Lemme grab refreshments for those who need it and my kit. Don't break shit while I'm gone," Lance ordered. He dipped back into Kingsman's, hiding his smile.
"Do you need me in any particular form or is this okay?" Mystery gestured to his normal kitsune self with a paw.
"YOU'RE GOOD." Arthur nodded. Then he reached out to the radio and turned it on with an errant wisp of power. A soft piano waltz played, vocals joining in with an upbeat drum. As Lewis's Deadbeats joined in with the chorus, Arthur felt warm.
At home.
Loved.
And when his time came, final Anchor dimming to dull metal, he went gently into that good night. Unburdened. At peace.
And it was nice.