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Chapter Text

            Being imprisoned in a painting was far from an easy ride.

            Inside a painting, there was no sense of time.  Seconds, minutes, hours, days, months or years—you had no way of knowing how long it had been.  It was nothing but vast endlessness.

            You could scream at the top of your lungs, and yet nobody could hear you.  Because on the outside, all anyone could see was your figure, frozen within the canvas.

            In front of you was the outside world, as if you were peering out through a window.  Behind it was just a formless void.  So—you could see what was going on, but there was nothing you could do about it.

            It was enough to drive anyone crazy.  And that was before taking the taunting whispers around you into consideration.

            That was probably the purpose—to drive the prisoner crazy.  The mastermind behind all of this was a straight-up sadist, after all.

            All alone inside a canvas, unable to fight back or even seek solace with your own thoughts, where the seconds, days, months and years blended into each other while mysterious voices whispered tauntingly into your ear.  It was an experience that would’ve broken most people.

            But a certain sextet wasn’t most people.

            Because they had a young man fighting for them.  And because they had faith in him.

            They knew that he’d defy all odds and rescue them.  They knew that he wouldn’t leave them to their fate, albeit in the case of two of them, it was well-deserved.  They knew that somehow, he’d swallow his fears and battle their captors until they were out of harm’s way.

            They knew—because they knew he loved them so much.  They knew—because they were his family.

            The mentor.  The three friends.  The sister-in-law in all but name.  The brother.  Six people he held near and dear to his heart, six people who he’d live and die for.

            Deceived and trapped, the situation would’ve been hopeless, but it wasn’t.  Because with the image of the man in green, the sextet found their comfort, their rock.

            With the image of the man in green, they found their equilibrium.

Chapter Text

October 2001

Thad

            He’s so frightened and so alone.  It’s cold.  His body’s shaking, tears racing down his face.  He doesn’t know what to do.  Here he is, in a haunted mansion, tasked with finding Mario but unsuccessful.  He’s never felt so helpless in his life.  He knows now that Mario’s in serious trouble, but what’s one Toad against a bunch of ghosts?  Who can he call for help?  Where can he hide?  How is he gonna get out of here?!

            “Hey…”

            The soft, soothing voice grabs his attention.  His sobs quiet, and he turns toward the speaker.

            It’s Luigi!  What’s he doing here?

            It doesn’t really matter now.  Thad draws comfort from his presence.  Luigi’s kneeling so that he’s at eye-level with the Toad, his face soft and his eyes kind.  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

            Thad explains the situation to him.

            “Mario was staying with Peach when you told him about winning a free mansion, and she saw him off when he went to meet you.  A long time passed without any word from him, and he wouldn’t return Peach’s calls.  So, she sent me to look for him.  But when I got here, the place was full of ghosts, and I couldn’t find Mario anywhere!”

            “I can’t find him anywhere, either,” says Luigi.

            “When I saw the ghosts, I just—freaked!  It was awful!” Thad continues.  “What am I gonna…?”

            He’s cut off by Luigi’s arms gently encircling him, his head coming to rest against Luigi’s shoulder.  Thad quickly melts into the embrace, returning it, warmth, comfort and love encircling him.  He’s less frightened now, less unsure of what to do.  There are still ghosts about, but it’s not so bad now.  Somehow, Thad knows that Luigi will get to the bottom of this.

            “Thad.  Look at me,” says Luigi.

            Thad obliges.

            “Leave it to me,” Luigi tells him, quiet but forceful.

            Thad’s tears dry, and he smiles.  “Why, you just made my dark and stormy night, Luigi!” he says brightly.

            He relaxes further, his arms still clasped round Luigi’s neck, Luigi still holding him close.  The waves of uncertainty still, and Thad can see an imaginary lighthouse guiding him to shore.

            “Thad,” Luigi says, his voice almost a whisper.  “I won’t let the ghosts hurt you, and I won’t let them hurt Mario.  I’ll find him.  I promise you.  I’ll find him.”

            They part slightly, and then Thad notices the red vacuum cleaner on Luigi’s back.

            And somehow, Thad believes him.

Brad

            “Mario, where are you?” he cries out, to no avail.

            He has no way of knowing how long he’s stood on this balcony in the cold, night air.  His sense of time has been scrambled up ever since he arrived here, with no Mario in sight.  But with ghosts in every room, all he can think of doing is take cover and pray that someone will find him.  Preferably, someone who isn’t a ghost.

            “Mario, where are you?” Brad sobs again.

            “I’m looking for him,” a familiar voice replies.

            Brad looks up.  “Luigi?” he asks.

            “I’m here, Brad,” says Luigi.  “I’m here.  You don’t have to worry anymore.”

            He opens his arms, and Brad moves into them.

            “Can you tell me what happened?” he asks.

            “I’m trying to find Mario, but so far, all I see are ghosts!” says Brad.  “Where can he possibly be?”

            “I don’t know, but I won’t stop searching this mansion until I find him,” Luigi quietly vows.

            Brad knows that Luigi’s not bluffing.  He sees—is that a vacuum cleaner?—on his back.  He sees the sense of purpose in his eyes.  He sees the bruises on his skin, telling the stories of hard-won fights to get to this point.  He senses the nervousness, but he also senses the deep love preventing him from throwing in the towel.

            “Is there anything I can do?” asks Brad.

            “Stay where you are, in case he shows up,” Luigi tells him.  “Plus, I don’t want a ghost attacking you and carrying you off.”

            “Okay,” says Brad.  “I trust you.”

            He closes his eyes and leans further into Luigi’s embrace.

            “God be with you.”

Chad

            He sulks in the washroom, cursing himself for his clumsiness.  How could he have flushed that item down that stupid toilet?  Can he do anything right?  Isn’t he supposed to be looking for Mario, anyway?  His folly is opening up a whole new can of worms!

            His self-loathing is paused when he feels a soft hand against the small of his back, and he looks up into bright blue eyes.

            Luigi kneels next to him, his face concerned.  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

            “I dropped something very important into the toilet, and I didn’t mean to,” Chad replies.

            Instantly, Luigi pulls him into a hug.  “Hey—it’s okay,” he says.  “Don’t worry about it.”

            “Huh—you’re right,” Chad says after a beat.  “No sense in crying over spilt milk.  I suppose I’ll just flush that old worry away—just let it swirl down into the depths and let happiness refill my life!”

            Luigi deepens the hug.  “Are you gonna be okay in here?” he queries.

            “I’ll certainly do my best,” smiles Chad, “but I’ll feel significantly better if you periodically check in.”

            “I’ll do that,” says Luigi.  “Bet on it.  I’m not leaving you alone in here.  I found two others, Thad and Brad, earlier.”

            “Are they safe?”

            “Yes, they are.  I think I’ll have the three of you meet up in the foyer.  It’s the safest place in this mansion right now.”

            “Hm.  Good idea,” says Chad.

            The two reluctantly withdraw from the embrace, and Luigi splashes some cold water onto his skin.

            “Are you gonna find Mario?” Chad speaks up.

            “Yes,” Luigi replies with conviction.  “I am.”

            Chad smiles hugely.  “Take care.”

            Luigi nods to him.  “Ditto.”

            He turns on his heel and leaves, Chad feeling a thousand pounds lighter as he listens to the man in green’s resolute step.

  Conrad

            The afterimage still burns in his mind.  The man in red, sealed in a portrait prison, fruitlessly beating on the walls.  Bruises decorating his sweaty, panicked face.  Bloody bite marks and slashes on his body.  The Boos who’d taken him captive, cackling horribly.  He presently huddles in the shack where he’d taken cover, quietly weeping, trying and failing to get that vision out of his head.

            He lets out a tiny squeak when the door swings open, only to relax when he sees the man in green.  There’s urgency on his face, which can only mean…

            “You saw him, didn’t you?”

            Luigi nods.  “Yeah.  I did.”

            “How could they do that to Mario?!” exclaims Conrad.  “When I saw him in that portrait, helpless, I completely lost it and ran through this godforsaken mansion looking for a hiding spot!”

            Luigi kneels down and gives him a tender hug.  “Thank God you’re safe,” he says.

            “He left some of his things behind, though,” Conrad tells him.  “His hat, his glove, his shoe, his Star—and a letter.”

            “I just found the letter,” says Luigi, “and I came across the hat a while ago.”

            “Are you looking for the other items?”

            “Indeed, I am.  I made a friend here, and she promised to help me track Mario down if I brought her some of his things.”

            “I’d help you,” offers Conrad, “but…”

            “No.  I want you to stay here,” Luigi breaks in.  “Better yet, I want you to wait in the foyer.  I came across your friends, Thad, Brad and Chad, and I had them meet up there.  It’s cold out here, and I don’t want a ghost attacking you.”

            “All right,” says Conrad.  “Just—please—you have to help Mario.”

            “I’ll never abandon him,” Luigi says to him, his voice intense.  “Never.”

            Chad knows he’s serious.  Despite the constant fame inequality between the two brothers and the frequent tension it begets, Luigi is fiercely loyal to Mario, and he’ll never hesitate to aid him whenever the need arises.  The world needs more selfless people like the man in green.

            Don’t worry, Mario, thinks Chad as he sees Luigi off.  You’re in good hands.

            Later, the four Toad retainers sit in the foyer together, waiting, hoping, praying.  Luigi has kept his promise and checked on them from time to time, each time a little more bruised, a little more battered, a little more bloodied.  But his eyes are still bright and his gait is still steady, his trusty vacuum tight in his fist, his flashlight lighting up the dark.  There’s a brief power outage which sends them running, but the reassurance that Luigi’s still out there, committed to saving Mario, makes the brief period of pitch darkness less unnerving.

            About 30 minutes after the power is restored, Luigi pays the Toads one last visit before confronting the evil King imprisoning Mario.

            “Don’t come back for me,” he says, and nothing they say can make him change his mind.

            They can only watch breathlessly as he determinedly strides away.  And then they pray harder.

            The minutes march past with no updates, minutes which feel like hours.  Thad, Brad, Chad and Conrad should be frazzled, but surprisingly, they’re not.  They’re on a boat in the middle of a raging sea at night, struggling with the oars, but they’ve fixed their gaze toward the horizon.  And there, they see a bright light, calling to them, calming them, guiding them.

            It’s their beacon—leading them out of the dark sea of fear and uncertainty and onto the shore of normality.

            Their beacon—in the form of the mustachioed man in green—Luigi.

Chapter Text

Everywhere I’m lookin’ now,

I’m surrounded by your embrace.

Baby, I can see your halo,

You know you’re my savin’ grace.

You’re everything I need and more,

It’s written all over your face.

Baby, I can feel your halo,

Pray it won’t fade away!

—Beyonc é , “Halo”

            When Mario tumbled out of that machine and onto the floor, the world was upside-down.

            He was dizzy from being whirled around and disoriented from the physical and mental torture he’d been subjected to.  He didn’t know what was real and what was an illusion.

            For a few seconds, the man in red lay where he’d fallen, his legs swaying in the air.  Somehow, he found the presence of mind to push himself into a seated position, his vision still spiraling.  He even thought he was gonna throw up, but luckily, that didn’t come to pass.

            Something hard and cold was around Mario’s neck, making it difficult for him to breathe.  A voice he didn’t recognize was saying something.  There were the high-pitched tones of some Toads.  And then—

            Then—

            There was a voice he definitely recognized.

            Laughter.  It came to him faintly at first, and then it grew louder and louder as his head cleared.  The laughter was equal parts relieved and hysterical, and it was mixed with sobs.  It was that same laughter which became Mario’s anchor, enabling him to steady the rest of his mind.  His world slowly stopped spinning and came into focus.  He saw that he was in some sort of lab, and that a metal grate was around his neck.  But his top priority was locating the source of the laughter.

            Mild tugging told him that someone was trying to get that grate off of him.  And then the grate was pulled free, and Mario could breathe normally again.

            He looked to his right.

            There.

            There was Luigi, his bro, standing there with a singular contraption on his back.  Numerous bruises, slashes, lacerations and burn marks told of a brutal fight against the vile King.  His entire body was heaving as sobbing laughter escaped from him, tears racing down his face.  The tears of a relieved man who’d gone through all nine circles of the Inferno to save a loved one.

            In that moment, Mario realized how much Luigi truly meant to him—the level of the younger’s passionate devotion.  He’d been unknowingly taking him for granted for all of these years, and he’d almost lost him tonight.  What’s more, the mere mention of ghosts used to send him hiding under the bed, and yet he’d just fought scores of ghosts to save him.  Silently, Mario promised to appreciate Luigi more from now on.

            The Bros’ eyes locked, the younger’s sobs dwindling into soft weeps.

            “Mario…”

            Mario smiled.

            “Luigi,” he said.  “Hey, hey.  Luigi…”

            “M—M—Mario—I…”

            And then Luigi lunged across the room.

            “Mario!”

            Before Mario knew what was happening, his face was pressed into Luigi’s shoulder, strong yet soft arms encircling his back.

            “Luigi,” breathed Mario, his arms encircling his lil’ bro in turn.  “My Luigi.  My baby bro—my brave, brave baby bro…”

            He felt Luigi shake as his sobs started back up again.  The younger man had been through so much tonight—all to see him safe—

            The thought spurred Mario to give as much comfort as he could possibly give, whispering reassurances in Luigi’s ear and combing his fingers through his chocolate-brown locks.  Most of all, Mario just held Luigi—held him and hugged him, and nothing and no one would compel him to let him go.

            “I’m sorry,” whispered Luigi.

            “What for?”

            “It’s my fault we wound up in this mess.  I fell for the oldest trick in the book, and…”

            “I was tricked, too,” said Mario.  “We’re both at fault.  And look at what I just put you through…”

            “Don’t blame yourself,” Luigi broke in.  “I won’t if you won’t, okay?”

            “Okay.”

            Mario exhaled.  “This feels so good…”

            Luigi hummed in assent.

            “When you marched into that altar, so many things were going through my mind,” said Mario.

            “Ditto,” whispered Luigi.  “I was so afraid, and it was your face keeping me from freezing up or turning tail.  This—this is why I wish I was like you.  You’re never scared of anything.”

            “I was tonight.”

            “W—wha…?”

            “I was scared I’d never see you again—and tell you—what a wonderful lil’ bro you are to me,” Mario said, “and I knew that if things had taken a turn for the worse, then it would’ve been on me.  I wasn’t afraid of King Boo—I was afraid for you, especially when he got into that suit and started hurting you.  You dying on my watch—that’s my greatest fear.”

            The confession seemed to overwhelm Luigi.  “Oh, Mario!” he cried, breaking into a fresh round of sobs.  “My big bro…”

            “C’mon, Luigi—now you’re gonna make me cry!”  And that’s just what Mario did.

            He could care less if anyone walked in on this.

            “What happened tonight—all of those ghosts—I’ll fight them over and over and over if it means getting you out of danger!” cried Luigi.

            “Luigi!  My bro—you came,” hiccupped Mario.  “I knew you would.  Thank God for you.  Thank God for you.”

            “You can always count on me, Bro…”

            After a night of terror, trauma and pain, the reunited brothers allowed their walls to come down, crying in each other’s arms.  They’d talk about it later.  Now was the time for them to savor the other’s presence, the other’s touch, the other’s essence.  Hugging together in this lab, they’d never felt safer before in their lives.

            Luigi—thank you for saving me.  I love you so much, and I’ll never leave you out in the cold again.

            I know, Bro.  I know.

I can feel your halo, halo, halo

I can see your halo, halo, halo

I can feel your halo, halo, halo

  I can see your halo, halo, halo…

Chapter Text

            Luigi sat with Mario, Thad, Brad, Chad and Professor Gadd, watching the sun begin its ascent over the horizon.  They all were seated on a blanket spread out on the grass, just outside of the Professor’s lab.  One of the Toad retainers had brought out a basket filled with sandwiches, while Gadd had set out some drinks.  For a moment, not a word was spoken as they viewed the sky becoming lighter, reds and pinks replacing the pitch blackness.

            Mario’s head was pillowed on Luigi’s shoulder, his recently tended-to injuries all but forgotten.  The sun’s arrival was chasing away the horror he and his bro had endured last night, chasing away the pain and fear and doubt and promising a better day.  He could already feel the warmth of the sun’s rays, and it wasn’t even halfway over the lip of the Earth.  The muscles in his body relaxed, and as he exhaled, peace began winging its way through his soul.

            Luigi had his arm around Mario, gently holding him close.  He wasn’t about to let him go after a night of being forcibly separated from him.  The pain from his own wounds began to dwindle, the tension giving way to relief and happiness.  Despite the odds stacked against him, he’d done it.  He’d defied his fears and saved his bro.  He was so proud of himself, and he felt as if a door had been opened.  His fears were intense, but at least they were surmountable.  As he watched the sun inch its way up, he knew, deep down, that everything was gonna be okay.

            Chad, Thad and Brad sat close to the Bros, overjoyed that everything had turned out all right.  When Peach had dispatched them to these woods to look for Mario, they’d already sensed that something terrible had befallen him, their suspicions confirmed when he was nowhere to be seen.  But then Luigi had shown up with that strange vacuum on his back and a determined gleam in his eye, preventing them from throwing in the towel.  And so diligently, they’d waited, seeing the newest bruises and cuts on Luigi each time he stopped by, allowing themselves to hope for both Bros’ sakes.  It had been worth it, as the man in green had prevailed.  The three Toads had nearly fainted when they saw Luigi stride toward them, Mario’s portrait tucked under his arm, limping and in visible pain, but victorious.  And now, the storm had passed, the darkness giving way to the dawn.

            Gadd contemplated last night’s events as he sat with the others, a sandwich in his hand.  Ever since he became a paranormal researcher, his lifelong goal had been to mentor someone, take them under his wing and help them overcome his fears, just like more experienced researchers had helped him overcome his fear.  Last night, his goal had been achieved, but he knew that this wasn’t where the story ended—it was only where one chapter of the story ended.  After initially getting Luigi to safety, and during the conversation following the rescue, Gadd had seen his younger self in the man in green, cautious but a bit adventurous.  A deep friendship had formed between the two as the elderly professor armed Luigi with his greatest invention and guided him throughout the mansion.  However, guilt nagged at him each time he recalled Luigi to his lab, seeing him with new injuries.  He’d all but indicated that ghosts gave him the creeps, and yet Gadd kept sending him back.  Yes, it was Luigi’s choice, but Gadd couldn’t help but feel a little horrible, shoving a vacuum into the younger man’s hands and sending him back into the danger zone while he cooled his heels in the safety of the lab.  But now the battle was over, Luigi had won, and Gadd was relieved.

            However, the end of one thing was the start of another, and Gadd was interested in where this road would take him—and Luigi—next.  Would they wind up going on more adventures together?  Would Luigi become less afraid of ghosts, as Gadd had?  Would their newfound friendship deepen over these coming years?

            He looked over at his four companion, and he knew without a doubt that they were asking themselves similar questions.  But they’d answer those questions later.  For the time being, they all were content to watch the sun climb higher and higher in the sky, basking in the calm after a violent storm.

Chapter Text

            The memory was clearer than day, and it always made Luigi smile.

            It had been an ordinary afternoon in the fourth grade.  Students had mingled and milled in the halls, gathering their things and preparing to go to their homeroom.  Luigi had just shut his locker door and engaged the combination lock when he heard commotion nearby.

            He hadn’t been surprised when he found Mitchell, the school bully, hassling Mario.  Both Bros were his frequent targets, due to their Italian-American heritage.  Bless his heart, Mario had refused to give Mitchell what he wanted, continuing to go about his business as if the other boy wasn’t there.  Unfortunately, Mitchell hadn’t gotten the hint, and he’d decided to deal a very low blow.

            He’d called Mario an ethnic slur.

            Disbelief and rage had flashed in Mario’s eyes as he whirled toward Mitchell, fists clenched.  And if Luigi hadn’t intervened when he did, then the boy in red would’ve lain an epic smackdown on that bully!

            No matter.  Luigi had lain a more epic smackdown on Mitchell.  The boy in green had the larger and stronger kid on the ground before anyone heard or saw him coming.  His fists had flown, striking Mitchell wherever there’d been an opening, his voice echoing throughout the hallway as he’d cursed the bully out and yelled at him to leave his brother alone.  Mitchell had been wailing like a big baby in seconds, because he’d been a coward, a coward to the core, turning tail whenever a target had decided to fight back.  The other kids had circled them, cheering Luigi on, groaning when some faculty members had inevitably arrived, separated the boys and practically marched Luigi to the Principal’s office.

            Refusing to wither under the Principal’s severe gaze, Luigi had calmly explained what had transpired, offering no excuses or apologies.  The Principal had patiently but firmly explained the despite the circumstances, she couldn’t let Luigi’s actions go unpunished.  Thus, Luigi had wound up in detention.

            “Did you expect me to just do nothing while Mitchell pushed my bro around?” Luigi had challenged.

            “You could’ve told somebody—like one of the teachers.”

            “Yeah, well—a lot of good that did,” Luigi had huffed.  “I already tried—didn’t work out too well.”

            “Watch your attitude, young man,” the Principal had warned.

            Then, she’d softened her voice and taken off her glasses.  “For what it’s worth,” she’d said, “the way you defend your sibling, stick up for him and stand by him during the worst of times is admirable.  In all my years at this school, I’d never seen siblings so loyal.  I hope you’ll continue to have his back moving forward.  Just—try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

            “Okay,” Luigi had softly replied before exiting the office with his head held high.

            He’d stopped when he saw Mario lurking outside, looking incredulous.

            “Seriously—she’s giving you detention?” Mario had exclaimed as they walked toward homeroom.  “You didn’t do anything wrong—Mitchell did!  Why isn’t she punishing him?”

            “She told me she’d ‘have a talk’ with him,” Luigi had said, using air quotes.  “Not that it’ll do anything.”

            “Right you are,” Mario had said.  “I should steamroll over there and give her a piece of my mind!”

            “And land yourself in trouble with me?  I don’t think so!” Luigi had objected.  “Do you wanna know why I attacked Mitchell?”

            “Why?”

            “Because you were seconds away from doing so.  You would’ve been the one in detention, and not me.”

            “Wait—you’re willing to face detention, a lecture from our parents and a possible grounding—for me?” Mario had breathed.

            Luigi had solemnly nodded.  “You’re my bro, and I wanna protect you.”

            “You can’t protect me from everything,” Mario had said.

            “It won’t stop me from trying,” Luigi had determinedly stated.

            Standing just outside of homeroom, the two boys pulled each other into a deep hug.

            “Luigi—you’re the best brother ever,” Mario had said.

            “Ditto,” Luigi had replied, “and no matter what, I’ll always be there for you.  Always.”

            “Always,” Mario had chorused.

            Years later, when the two were now heroes and protectors of a faraway land, Luigi would always maintain that the detention, the lecture from his parents and the brief grounding that followed had been worth it.  And nothing would ever change his mind.

            On that fateful October night in 2001, Luigi stood on the mansion’s rooftop, facing off against the King Boo-piloted mech, the Poltergust 3000 steady in his hands.  Around him rang his imprisoned brother’s voice, equal parts hopeful and apprehensive.  That voice served as a tonic, allowing him to take numerous heavy blows from the mech and still get up, allowing him to override the extreme pain screaming through his body.  A large, spiked ball rolled toward him, but he easily snagged it in his vacuum and fired it back at the mech, separating the head from the body and exposing the sadistic King.

            And then Luigi was upon him, vacuum whirring, mercilessly sucking away at the King’s HP and tugging back against the resistance.  Ice balls were launched at him, but they weren’t enough to stop him, nor were the King’s curses and threats.  And when he broke free and retreated into the mech, Luigi deeply inhaled and steeled body and mind for another brutal round.

            Breathe.

            Endure.

            Hold on.

            Wait for an opening…

            The King’s eyes flared with ire as Luigi wrenched his body erect and tightened the Poltergust’s shoulder straps.

            “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” he spat.

            Luigi suctioned another spiked ball onto his vacuum, aimed carefully and then launched it at his adversary, forcing the King back out.  He ran forward, turning on the suction full blast and engaging every long-suffering muscle in his body as he vacuumed away more of King Boo’s HP.

            A hateful snarl was on the King’s face, and while Luigi was unnerved, he couldn’t—wouldn’t—cave.  He could only see Mario, battered and helpless within that portrait frame.  He could only see the nine-year-old boy, stoically taking insult after insult from the class bully before an ethnic slur came his way.  He could only remember the promise he made as he and Mario stood outside the door to their homeroom—a promise he’d keep to his last breath, whether he was facing off against a common schoolyard bully or the source of his worst nightmares.

            Luigi looked King Boo squarely in the eye.  And then he spoke.

            “I can do this all day.”

Chapter Text

            Because Professor Elvin Gadd never married, he didn’t have any biological children.  Instead, he “adopted” the youngsters who came and went throughout his long and storied career in paranormal science.

            He did this because he’d been in their shoes once.  Ghosts had frightened him as a child, and he was relentlessly teased in school because of it.  However, Gadd worked to overcome his phasmophobia, and by the time he entered high school, he’d begun to stand up for himself, winding up in a scuffle or two whenever a high-and-mighty senior tried to put him down.  He’d graduated at the top of his class, both in high school and in undergrad, and by the time he earned his teaching credentials in 1946, he’d finally realized his purpose in life—to help and to guide the young and afraid.

            Between 1946 and 1952, he taught paranormal science at Colombia University in New York City, New York.  During that time, he “adopted” one of his students, a young man named Henry.  Henry stood out because of the fiery spirit hiding beneath his quiet nature.  He listened intently to Gadd’s lectures, took detailed notes and never missed a day.  When someone tried to pick on him, he’d tell them to back off.  Most importantly, he was unafraid to utilize Gadd’s office hours.  During one such visit, Henry confessed that he, too, had been afraid of ghosts, but he’d “grown out of it” over time.  But Gadd explained to him that he hoped to not just help people overcome their phasmophobia, but also help people overcome their fears in general.  Henry’s frankness touched the professor, and he seemed to have touched Henry, in turn, as he stayed in touch with Gadd long after he’d graduated.

            The second youngster he “adopted” was a young woman named Eliza.  Professor Gadd met her in the late 1960s, over ten years after he discovered Boo Woods, encountered the small white ghosts that gave the woods their name and witnessed their King’s coronation.  The Red Scare had passed, he’d been vindicated from being a suspected Communist sympathizer, and he’d returned to his teaching job at Colombia University.  Two years after his return, he’d met Eliza.  She was tall, her cinnamon-brown hair in a ponytail, and she was rarely seen without her black-rimmed glasses.  In fact, she almost looked like Gadd!  The close resemblance wasn’t lost among the other students and faculty, but that’s missing the point.  Anyway, Gadd and Eliza first encountered each other in the quad, where the latter was seated on the lawn by herself, eating lunch.  She looked a little sad, so Gadd went over and struck up a conversation with her.  Eliza had described herself as a bit of an introvert, but she eagerly opened up to Gadd when he lent her an ear.  The still-prevalent sexism of the era was beginning to weigh on her, and she told the professor that each day had become a struggle not to fall apart at the seams.  When she started talking about throwing in the towel, Gadd immediately discouraged her, telling her about how he pushed on despite being bullied over his phasmophobia.  He sat with her during the rest of her lunch break, the two of them trading stories about their experiences.  By the time they parted ways, Eliza was in a sunnier mood, and the two exchanged contact information, promising to keep in touch.  Letters and phone calls flew between them in the following weeks, and Eliza took an internship with him the following year.  During that internship, Eliza truly became an honorary Gadd, expressing genuine interest in the world of paranormal research and holding her own in ghostly scraps, and it wasn’t long before the internship became a full-time job.  She fell in love with and later married a novelist named Richard Beckett, Professor Gadd walking her down the aisle on her wedding day.  Eliza and Richard settled down in Providence, Rhode Island, becoming proud parents to a daughter, Shayna.  And just as Gadd was a father figure to Eliza, he considered himself Shayna’s grandfather in all but name.  The feeling was mutual, as she’d affectionately call him “Grandpa”.  Nowadays, Shayna was doing quite well as a psychiatrist, and her parents remained happily married after all of these years.

            Professor Elvin Gadd had so many “adopted” children, and he even had some “adopted” grandchildren and great-grandchildren.  He loved them all like as if they were of his flesh and blood, guiding them through life’s little adversities and arming them with the tools they needed to surmount their biggest fears—from fear of the dark to fear of rejection to fear of failure.

            It wasn’t only about helping them surmount their fears, either.  It was about seeing the looks on their faces as they realized that their fears didn’t define them.

            However, among all of the “adopted” children in Gadd’s life, one “adopted” son stood out.

            The eccentric professor would never forget that brisk autumn night in October 2001.  Exploring the mansion which had mysteriously appeared a few weeks prior.  Hearing the screams.  Quickly reacting, arriving on the scene and whisking the green-clad youngster to safety.  The young man composing himself and gratefully wringing Gadd by the hand.  And then explaining how he’d wound up in that mansion.

            What could Gadd say about Luigi?  First off, he saw his younger self in him.  It was in his eyes.  That night, he’d been deathly afraid, and rightfully so.  King Boo and his brethren weren’t like the villains on Saturday morning cartoons.  But there was something else impelling him to strap on that Poltergust and march back inside that mansion—love.

            Professor Gadd had always believe that love was more powerful than fear—more specifically, familial love.  The bond between parent and child and between siblings—it was the kind of love more enduring than romantic love.  And when Gadd met Luigi, this very belief was reinforced by the latter’s self-imposed mission.

            He went back in there—because his elder brother was trapped.

            He went back in there—because he refused to leave his brother behind.

            He went back in there—because he loved his brother.  And because he’d live and die for him.

            Gadd saw his younger self reflected in Luigi’s blue eyes.  Timid—yet determined.  Both men wanted to get things done despite their fears.  Both men had a feisty nature beneath their quiet exteriors.  It was possible that Gadd and Luigi were kindred spirits.

            When Gadd saw Luigi off that first time, he wanted to take him under his wing, tell him everything that had happened to him and then reassure him that everything would be okay.  The moment he saw Luigi cornered by that ghost, something has just—clicked.  If there was something Gadd loved more than studying ghosts, then it was mentoring people.  And it looked as if Luigi needed his mentoring.

            Each time Gadd lost contact with the man in green, he prayed for God to see him through.  And each time Luigi encountered a tough ghost, Gadd admired his tenacity while simultaneously clinging to the armrests of his seat.  Single-handedly, Luigi prevailed over all of the ghosts, armed with nothing except a vacuum and tons and tons of brotherly love.

            Gadd almost fainted when Luigi practically stumbled into the lab for the final time, Mario’s portrait tucked under his arm, trailed by three Toad retainers.  He looked as if Hell had chewed him up and then spit him back out, and he was visibly and audibly in pain.  The fact that he was still on his feet was incredible.  Within minutes, Gadd had Luigi seated on the couch, tending to all of his injuries, both of them watching the mansion literally fade into the night, which was giving way to gray dawn.

            For safety reasons, Gadd directed Luigi to empty the Poltergust first.  But before beginning the process of releasing Mario, the Professor led the man in green to a small gallery lined with photographs—a visual story of his life.  Wonder filled Luigi’s eyes as Gadd talked at length about the important people he’d encountered, the lives he’d positively affected and the youngsters he’d helped along the way.  And now, Luigi had joined that long list.

            Luigi had come a long way.  And so had Gadd.

            In his hour of need, Gadd became Luigi’s guide.

            Standing just outside the lab, watching the Mario Bros wildly hug each other, Professor Gadd knew that his life would take on a new and interesting course from here on in.  Where he’d end up on this road, he had no way of knowing.  But he did know that Luigi wouldn’t be far behind.

            Wherever life would take them, each would be the other’s guide.

Chapter Text

            His fingers flew across the ivory and ebony keys with all of the gestures of an experienced pianist, a clear and wholesome melody flowing from the instrument.  His feet were on the pedals, gently depressing at certain intervals, causing the sound to wrap around the room and around him.  His eyes were closed, and a light frown was on his face as he tapped into the emotions raging within him, turning them into beautiful music.

            You’d be surprised to find out that Luigi could play piano.  He’d always had an ear for music, and he enjoyed listening to it and dancing to it.  When he was six, he started taking piano lessons, and he was a rather swift learner.  Whenever he could, he’d practice what he’d learned, playing songs from the songbook his piano teacher gave him.  However, he blanched at the prospect of going to a tryout or a recital.  Nowadays, he considered it a missed opportunity.

            After all of these years, he remembered everything he’d learned, impulsively making himself comfortable on the bench after defeating the ghostly pianist, positioning his fingers over the keys and beginning to play.  At this point, he needed some form of creative release.  He’d fallen for an elaborate trap, and now his big bro was probably in danger because of it.  He was angry at himself, worried for his bro, fearful of what could happen and doubtful if he could pull through.

            Nothing was physically stopping him from leaving the haunted mansion, of course, but he couldn’t just leave his bro in there.  What would that accomplish—what would that prove?  What kind of brother would he be?  He was envious of Mario sometimes, but he surely wasn’t petty.  His love for Mario came first, and if he was in trouble, then it was up to him to get him out.

            But—

            Could he?

            Luigi wasn’t as brave as Mario.  He was more on the cautious side.  And while caution was a good thing, many perceived his cautiousness as weakness.  He was less likely to get physical unless pushed hard enough.  Fears plagued him—some of them rational and a few—not so much.  These were the fears he battled against now, pushing himself forward even though his brain wanted him to turn around and head home, like a firefighter charging into a burning building in spite of reflexes, instinct and common sense yelling to run away.

            More specifically, when it came to ghosts, he would’ve hid under his bed under normal circumstances.  He despised ghosts with a passion.  You could forget about telling ghost stories in his presence.  But these weren’t normal circumstances.  Hiding under his bed wasn’t an option.  And while he currently had some means of defense, the ghosts he’d encountered so far could still make his hair stand up on end.

            But the ghosts didn’t scare him the most this time around.  He was more afraid that his phasmophobia could overpower him at any given moment, causing him to let Mario down.  After ghosts, failing Mario was his greatest fear.

            Passionately, he hammered at the piano keys, asking himself these fateful questions?  Will I be able to do this?  Will my fears prove too much?  Will I wave the white flag, even when I’m almost at the end?  Will just a vacuum cleaner and my own wits be enough to save Mario?

            Then, it occurred—

            It won’t, if I keep thinking so negatively.

            Thinking negatively won’t help me save Mario.

            Continuing to play, Luigi pulled his thoughts away from the negative, his melody changing accordingly.  What was now dark and thundering became light and slightly up-tempo, his fingers dancing skillfully along ebony and ivory.  His thoughts focused on what he’d accomplished so far tonight.  On the ghosts he’d successfully defeated, particularly Chauncey and his titanic temper tantrum.  Some of the ghosts had knocked him down, but he’d stood right back up.  And he was making great progress, finding keys which would help him access new areas of this mansion.

            He knew it would only be uphill from here.  But he’d still climb.

            He could run anytime he wanted, but he wasn’t going to.

            Because he was able to do this.

            He would wrestle against his fears, pin them down and push forward.

            He’d never wave the white flag, no matter how badly he’d wind up hurt.

            A red vacuum cleaner and his willpower could just be enough.

            Sitting at that bench and pouring his heart and soul into the tune he was playing, Luigi broke free of the doubts grabbing at him.  He allowed cautious optimism to fill him.  He reflected on all of the moments he’d shared with Mario, the sweet and the bitter—the moments they’d never share again should Luigi allow his fears to win.  His fears would buffet him, but he’d buffet them right back.  He was gonna march through this mansion and take down every ghost standing in his way.  He was gonna find Mario, and he was gonna bring him home.

            Luigi released a breath and opened his eyes as the last note echoed around the conservatory.  The music had cleansed him inside, and he was ready to keep going.  He shook out his fingers, adjusted his vacuum’s shoulder straps, walked out of the room and started down the halls.  His shoulders were straight, his gait was unwavering, his eyes were fixed and his face bore a resolute look.

            No ghost would break his stride.

            And no ghost would slow him down tonight.

Chapter Text

            Some foods were called “comfort food” for a reason.

            And after a throwdown with a colossus of a Boo, Luigi was in definite need of comfort.

            Of course, he wanted to keep going, but Gadd would have none of it.  As soon as the latter saw the bloodied young man limp into the lab, he quickly sat Luigi down and bandaged all of the gashes and bite marks.  And then he convinced Luigi that some rest and a meal was in order.

            This meal was the total package.  To start was shrimp salad, topped with croutons and thousand-island dressing, with bread and butter on the side.  As they ate, Gadd told Luigi about his early life, teaching Paranormal Science at Colombia University before paranoia from the Red Scare cast suspicion on him for being a Communist sympathizer, sending him to Boo Woods, where he met the small, white ghosts which gave the woods its name.  He’d talked about how the Boos had initially been friendly with him, allowing him to observe their society and day-to-day activities.  He spoke about witnessing King Boo’s coronation, and how the King had also initially behaved cordially toward him, inviting him to all of the balls and galas he threw.  The two of them had witnessed several historical events together via television, from the 1963 March on Washington and the 1969 Apollo launch to the Watergate hearings in the early 1970s, the Colombia launch in 1981, the Challenger disaster in 1986 and the drama surrounding the 2000 election.  King Boo had trusted Gadd enough to tell him about the alliance he’d forged with another King—the King who just so happened to frequently clash with the Mario Bros.

            Luigi enjoyed his salad, finding himself relaxed by Gadd’s storytelling.  These anecdotes, along with the food in his belly, made him feel a little better.  The wounds from his fight with Boolossus didn’t matter anymore.  He allowed himself to bask in this brief moment of peace.

            Over a main course of bacon-wrapped filet mignon with garlic butter and baked potato with all of the fixings, paired with sweet wine, the conversation slowly but surely turned toward Luigi’s adventures thus far.  Warmed up inside by the taste of the food, Luigi laid everything bare, all of the fights, all of the bruises and all of the pain.  And he learned some interesting facts about the ghosts he’d encountered.  The fact that Henry and Orville were Neville’s children out of wedlock, the product of an affair with Miss Petunia.  The fact that Lydia had found it in her heart to forgive Neville’s infidelity and raise the two boys as her own.  The fact that Nana pranked Miss Petunia as revenge for hurting Lydia, her friend.

            Then, Luigi told Gadd about how he’d found Mario, trapped in a painting in a secret altar.

            “I’m responsible,” he said.

            “What makes you say that?” asked Gadd.

            “I called him and asked him to meet me here, at a mansion I supposedly won,” Luigi explained.  “I can’t believe I didn’t suspect anything!”

            “You don’t have to punish yourself, Luigi,” Gadd said softly.

            “When we were boys, I made a vow—to always protect him and be there for him,” Luigi explained.  And then he told Gadd about the encounter with Mitchell, and some of the scraps he’d been involved in throughout middle and high school, all in Mario’s defense.

            “No offense, but you can’t protect him from everything,” said Gadd.

            “I’m as sure as the Inferno gonna try,” Luigi fired back.  “When I was fighting Boolossus, all I could think about was my bro—about the look in his eyes and the panic in his voice as he was trapped in that painting like an animal.  And I told myself that I couldn’t give in to the pain I was feeling.”

            “Then—I’d say you’re doing a fine job of keeping to your vow,” mused Gadd, “going through this Hell to save him.”

            “You’re right,” said Luigi.  “I am.”

            Then, Luigi talked at length about King Boo’s reptilian ally and the possibility of having to battle two Kings instead of one.

            “I don’t care if I have to face that turtle’s claws as well as whatever King Boo has in mind,” he said.  “Once I saw Mario, helpless and at their mercy—all bets were off.  So help me God, I will take them down.”

            The meal concluded with decadent chocolate cake and French vanilla ice cream.  Dessert was always the best part of a meal, after all.

            With each forkful of dessert, Luigi felt a generous heaping of serotonin surge through his body.  In retrospect, he needed that wholesome meal.  He didn’t realize how hungry he’d been until he smelled the food cooking upon his arrival.  And during the meal, he found himself bonding with his unlikely rescuer and ally, a man who was eccentric but still quite grandfatherly.

            Food did bring people together, after all.

            In addition, Gadd could somehow sense the dynamic between Luigi and Mario, deducing the former’s hidden envy.  Luigi didn’t know how, nor did it matter at the moment.  Maybe the comfort food he’d prepared allowed his walls to come down.  Maybe Gadd was that smart.  But when Gadd encouraged Luigi to talk about this with Mario, the man in green ixnayed the idea.

            “It’s not that simple,” he said.  “If I tell Mario how I feel, I’ll come across as petty and selfish.  And Mario’s everything I wish I could be.  I’m flawed, and I could never be like him.”

            “What if I told you that the role you play is bigger than the role Mario plays?” asked Gadd.  “Look at it this way—you’ve stood by his side from adventure to adventure, keeping the promise you’ve made.  Do you think he would’ve survived these adventures without you?”

            “No.”

            “You may be considered a sidekick, but your contributions are significant.  You’ll go out of your way to be the best brother you can be.  You told me that you hate ghosts, right?  And yet here you are, fighting them—for Mario.  That wasn’t me—that was you.  All I did was give you the Poltergust.”

            Luigi sat in contemplative silence.

            “And even if we lost communication, I have a feeling that it won’t stop you.  You’d still push on.”

            “For my bro,” finished Luigi.

            “Yes, Luigi—yes!”

            “For my bro!” Luigi repeated in a stronger tone!  “For Mario!  I can do this—and I will!  I’m gonna fight King Boo and that turtle—and I’m gonna win or die trying!  For my big bro.”

            Boosted by the meal, by renewed energy and renewed confidence, Luigi set aside what remained of his dessert.

            “You’re going back in there?” asked Gadd.

            Luigi nodded.  “And I’m not coming back out until I save him.”  There was zero room for argument in his tone.  “If I don’t come back…” He trailed off, and Gadd knew that he didn’t need to finish.  “It doesn’t matter.  I’d rather die trying to rescue him than chicken out and abandon him.”

            The Poltergust was once again on Luigi’s back, and he was on his feet.  He downed his glass of wine, wiped his mouth, squared his shoulders, and gave Gadd one last resolute look.

            “Thank you for the meal,” he said softly.

            “My pleasure, of course,” replied Gadd.

            Luigi spun around on his heel, walked out of the lab and back toward the mansion, where possibly two powerful Kings and Mario awaited.

            His stride never faltered.

            And he never looked back.

Chapter Text

            When his attackers laughed off the punches, kicks and fireballs he threw at them, he knew he was in trouble.

            Mario was in the middle of these eerie looking woods, alone, with a pitifully weak cell phone signal.  It was supposed to be a night of celebration, an impromptu housewarming party.  How long ago was it since Luigi’s excited phone call, talking about a free mansion he’d won in some sort of contest?  From the moment the Boos ambushed him, it had seemed like hours had passed between now and this moment.  The small, white ghosts with long tongues and fangs swept down on him from everywhere.  He’d put up his dukes and fought, but none of the attacks in his arsenal worked.

            For the first time in his life, Mario was facing an undefeatable foe.  Or at least a foe immune to punches, kicks and fireballs.

            He was given one second to think, and he chose that second to think about his baby bro before the Boos were upon him.

            Mario didn’t know which was worse.

            The physical torment, first from the Boos beating the tar out of him, and then dragging him before their King to thrash him some more…

            …or the mental torment, courtesy of the King’s illusionary powers.

            King Boo was extremely skilled at causing pain—physical, emotional and psychological.  He took special pleasure in making the lives of his enemies a living Inferno.  He didn’t attack his enemies because he had to—he attacked them because he wanted to.  The kingly sense of duty was only a cover.  Thus, it was no surprise that his subjects reveled in torturing their enemies, too.

            The King’s violet eyes lit up when Mario was delivered into his clutches.  He didn’t shove him into the portrait frame right away.  No—he first spent some time toying with his captive, testing out just how much pain he could inflict on one man.  Then, he trapped him in the painting—before inflicting more pain.

            His eyes watered as the fiery pain tore through him.  He bit his lip to keep from screaming.  He resolved to show no fear or weakness.  The agony continued for hours, but to Mario, it felt like days.  And then King Boo compounded the ordeal by using his magic to project gruesome images of Mario’s loved ones being taken from him, of his world being decimated one piece at a time.

            Most of the imagery involved Luigi.

            Mario didn’t know how, but King Boo figured out that failing to protect Luigi was his biggest fear.  He took that fear and turned it into a weapon, and he pointed it at Mario and pulled the trigger.

            He showed images of Luigi, limp and motionless on the floor in a pool of his own blood.  He showed images of Luigi, suffering the way Mario was currently suffering, screaming for help that would never come.  He showed images of Luigi being abandoned, thrown under the bus, put down, discarded, bullied and treated like garbage.  He showed images of Luigi being broken.

            The pain in his heart outweighed the pain in the rest of his body.

            Mario “Jumpman” Mario almost broke that night.

            Almost.

            Because he didn’t know if Luigi was okay.

            Yet.

            Then, when King Boo mercifully left him alone for a short while, Mario’s worries were partially allayed.

            He could clearly see, through the mouth of a lion statue, Luigi’s angular face reacting to his elder brother’s current condition.

            There were leather straps over his shoulders, and Mario could make out some sort of backpack—no, that was a vacuum.  How on Earth did he come across a vacuum?  However, Mario would worry about that later.  He was mostly fixated on Luigi’s face.

            His eyes, so full of love.

            His visage, slightly draining of color, bringing several bruises into focus.

            His lips, slightly parting.

            “Get me outta here!” Mario impulsively shouted, slamming his fists against his artistic prison.

            As if in response, Luigi shakily reached out toward him.  His eyes grew noticeably wet.

            His lips moved.

            And Mario heard his voice.

            “I’m here, Mario.  I’m here.  Don’t be afraid.  It’s okay.  It’s okay…”

            Luigi’s voice broke through the churning sea of panic, pain and misery.  It was as if Mario was up to his shoulders in water, and hearing Luigi enabled him to kick harder to keep his head from slipping under.

            “Mario—hold on.  I will get you out of there.  And nothing will stop me.”

            The Bros locked eyes.  And then Luigi blew Mario a tender kiss before heading out to keep to his promise.

            Mario’s reprieve ended, King Boo returning shortly thereafter.  But the man in red was able to endure the subsequent rounds of torture.  As the pain grew to unbearable, Mario bit back the screams, focusing with all of his might on all of the memories he shared with Luigi, from their childhood to their adolescence to their rise as heroes of a fantasy land.  He thought about Luigi’s smile, his laughter, his hugs and his unshakable devotion to friends and family.  With Luigi’s help, Mario braved and endured King Boo’s twisted “fun” with him.

            He had faith in Luigi.  That was enough.

            Luigi now stood in the altar, just a few feet away, vacuum poised and ready to fight.  King Boo taunted him, licking the canvas of Mario’s painting, which only served to fuel the fire.  Mario homed in on the unspoken message in his brother’s vibrant eyes.

            Here I am, Mario.  I’m here.  And I won’t let you down.

            During the subsequent battle, the sight of Luigi standing firm against a terrifying enemy, piloting a suit in a familiar nemesis’s likeness, was enough for Mario to hold on, to endure, just a second longer.

Chapter Text

            “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

            Excruciating pain tore through every nerve in Luigi’s body.  His vision was going in and out of focus.  The taste of warm, thick blood was in his mouth.  He was seconds away from collapsing.  But he didn’t.

            Despite the numerous injuries he’d sustained, Luigi stood straight and tall.  His eyes blazed blue fire as they seared into the one who’d spoken to him.  He held his vacuum so tightly that its ridges were imprinted into his skin.  His breaths were measured and deliberate, in and out, as incoming fatigue tried to attack him.

            Around them echoed the voice of the man who ensured that Luigi wouldn’t collapse anytime soon.  The voice of the man who’d endured at least half a night of Hell.  The voice of the man who was depending on him.

            Mario’s voice.

            Luigi became a different man entirely from the moment he saw his big bro held captive by the very tyrant he was battling.  The fact that Mario had been missing was the only reason why he’d continued to explore the mansion.  But when he found Mario and saw his helpless state—he knew that retreat was no longer an option.  He fought his way through hordes of ghosts and then took on hordes of Boos, which were even more nightmare-inducing than ghosts.  And each time a part of his brain screamed at him to race home and never look back, he’d hearken back to the image of Mario, beating on that portrait frame and begging to be let out.  It was an effective remedy, as Luigi put aside his fears and pushed onward.

            Now, he was embroiled in the fight of his life—the fight for his bro’s life—against the King of all Boos.  Both sides held nothing back, and to the King’s frustration, no matter how hard he hit, Luigi refused to crumple into a heap on the ground.  He stood back up and kept his vacuum whirring.

            “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

            If you saw a loved one at someone’s mercy and were currently battling the person responsible, then would you quit?  Mario continued to talk to Luigi, his once-panicked voice returning to that pleasing chipper falsetto.  If he quit now, then he’d never hear that falsetto again.  He’d never draw inspiration from the way he unhesitatingly confronted danger again.  He’d never draw comfort from Mario’s embrace again.  He’d never share adventures and misadventures with him again.

            He couldn’t quit.

            Vivid memories seeped through Luigi’s mindscape.  Sleeping in the same bedroom together until they were five years old, whispering to each other in the night.  Having fun in the backyard, or in the park—laughing their hearts out.  Secretly watching TV-MA rated programs at night when they were teenagers, stifling chuckles at the mature profanity and blushing at flashes of skin.  Rooming together in college, sneaking peeks at—magazines—and cracking jokes about their professors.  Even before they crawled through that pipe, life for the Mario Bros. had been far from bland.

            But now a tyrannical King was threatening to ground those memories to a stop, for reasons Luigi probably didn’t want to know.  And he’d do anything to keep him in his clutches.

            Well, Luigi would do what it took to stop the King and get Mario back.

            And if that meant almost dying in a brutal fight, then so be it.

            “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

            The pain continued to ripple, and Luigi continued to fight regardless.  He kept breathing, in and out, maintaining an unyielding grip on his vacuum, vacuuming up the large balls with spikes on them and using them to temporarily disable the suit his foe was wearing so he could dash in and counterattack.

            King Boo seethed, his purple eyes hate-mad.  “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” he snarled.

            Luigi didn’t even shrink under that hateful gaze.  Defiantly and determinedly, he glared back, the nozzle of his vacuum pointed straight at the King’s face.

            He would survive.  And he would fight on.  For Mario.

            “I can do this all day.”

Chapter Text

March 2013

            There were moments were one was given a short amount of time to act.

            For Professor Gadd, this was one such moment.

            One minute, the ghosts of Evershade Valley were happily bustling around in his lab, and the next, they were going on a rampage.  Gadd managed to snatch up important papers before retreating to his Bunker and catching his breath.  The only thing on his mind was reaching out to somebody to help rectify this strange problem.

            He knew only one person who could.  And he also knew that he wouldn’t be very happy about it.

            Gadd’s fingers flew across the keyboard, and within seconds, Luigi’s startled, slightly drowsy visage appeared on the screen.

            “Thank God!  There’s a major emergency, and I need your help!”  Words spilled out of Gadd’s mouth a mile a minute, Luigi reacting with confusion.

            “Wha—ghosts?  Slow down, Professor,” said Luigi, his voice a bit slurred from sleep.

            Hearing Luigi’s voice gave Gadd pause.  “I—I didn’t wake you, did I?” he asked.

            “You, ah, you kinda did.”

            “Oh, my God!  I’m so sorry!” Gadd exclaimed.  “It’s just—I didn’t know who else to call!”

            “That’s all right.  Now, could you please explain what happened?  I kinda lost you.”

            “I’d better bring you over here first,” said Gadd, and that’s just what he did, using a teleportation device known as the Pixelshifter.

            Luigi landed on his butt, looking a bit disoriented, as he was unused to this kind of travel.

            “It’s nice to see you again, Luigi,” greeted Gadd.

            Luigi stood up.  “Same here,” he amiably replied.

            Gadd held out a hand, which Luigi shook.  A nice, firm handshake.

            Sitting Luigi down, Gadd explained the situation to him, telling him about the Dark Moon hanging in the sky and the fragment he’d managed to retrieve.  Since the Dark Moon was shattered, the local ghosts, once benign, were now aggressive, and a purple fog had descended over the valley.  Luigi seemed to understand that Gadd wanted him to try and retrieve all of the Dark Moon pieces and perhaps find out who was behind the Dark Moon’s destruction.

            It was within Luigi’s rights to tell Gadd to [bleep] off.  But he didn’t.

            With some trepidation, he said “Yes”.

            Thank God Gadd’s “present” to Luigi was waiting for him in the Gloomy Manor’s garage.

            A new and improved Poltergust would definitely help him on this adventure.

            Waiting it out in his Bunker, Gadd couldn’t understand why Luigi had agreed to help him.

            They’d been in touch in the twelve years since Luigi’s most defining adventure, but Gadd sensed that Luigi sought to distance himself from the paranormal.  And who could blame him?  He’d made it clear that he hated ghosts, and that it would be preferable if he didn’t have to fight them again.  But on the other hand, Luigi cared almost lovingly for the Poltergust 3000, doing regular maintenance on it and having Gadd inspect it at least once a month.  The vacuum reminded him of a major accomplishment, of course, but Gadd liked to think that Luigi was anticipating another ghostly adventure, contrary to what he said.

            When asked if he’d do what he did a second time, Luigi always unhesitatingly responded in the affirmative.

            Twelve years ago, Luigi had confronted his fears for his bro, but the aftermath had been far from easy.  His physical injuries needed time to heal, and his mental injuries even more so.  That type of mental trauma would still be visible, even after over a decade.  And Gadd felt horrible dragging Luigi into this, because he felt like he was dredging up terrible memories by asking for his help.

            He also felt like he was taking advantage of Luigi’s generosity.

            I drag him out of bed in the middle of the night and essentially say, “I’m in a big mess, why don’t you clean it up for me”.  What kind of person am I?

            Another notion lingered at the back of his mind, though he couldn’t fathom what.

            But Luigi was great about it.  Each time Gadd recalled him to the Bunker, Luigi greeted him with a winning smile, the Poltergust 5000 snugly on his back.  He held no bitterness or rancor over being roused from a good night’s sleep and seemed happy that someone was calling on him for help.  The two would chat as Gadd tended to whatever bruises Luigi had taken during ghostly tussles, and Gadd would insist that Luigi at least eat a snack before giving him another task.  Had Luigi secretly missed the rush of ghost-wrangling?  Only time would tell.

            At one point, Luigi tried to call Mario, only to get booted to voicemail.  Gadd felt a small twinge, beginning to think that their current predicament was just part of a major plot, which only increased his guilt over catapulting Luigi into such a situation.  But the eccentric professor gazed into Luigi’s caring eyes, taking in his soft facial expression, that beautiful smile of his tweaking at his lips.  And in that look was reassurance.

            It’s okay, Professor.  You’re not inconveniencing me at all.  You were in trouble, and you reached out to me.  You needed my help, and I won’t let you down.

            As Gadd watched Luigi on the Bunker’s monitors, he asked himself again why Luigi had decided to help him.

            While witnessing him fighting an imposing ghost, Gadd realized that the answer was staring him straight in the face.

            Luigi was just that reliable.

Chapter Text

            Professor Gadd was convinced that he’d just sent Luigi into the deepest pit of Hell.

            His suspicions had been confirmed.  The Dark Moon’s destruction hadn’t been a random event.  It was but a step in whatever revenge plot King Boo had dreamed up.  Evershade Valley was about to be overrun by berserk ghosts.  A paranormal portal had been ripped open.  Mario was once again held captive in a portrait.

            And it was all Gadd’s fault.

            In his distracted state during a stressful day, the Professor had sold King Boo’s portrait to a seemingly random stranger.  That had been two years ago.  Gadd had forgotten about the incident as he focused on getting to know the valley’s ghosts better and designing the Poltergust 5000.

            Today, it was biting him in the [bleep].

            Luigi had been surprisingly understanding when Gadd confessed everything to him.  Either that or he was too busy to be p—ed at him.  The man in green was slow to anger, after all, but under the right circumstances, he was a passionate fellow who spoke his mind.  Still, the guilt which had surfaced earlier had multiplied considerably, and Gadd was beginning to wonder if he was getting too old for this job.

            What started off as a call for help on Gadd’s part was now a battle for time and space.  The Boos were more clever and devious, using fake surveillance footage to trap Luigi in a train exhibit and sending their muscle, Boolossus, after him.  Luigi had barely escaped that fight alive, and even then, he hadn’t come out unscathed.  Gadd had to break out the ice packs and bandages when he recalled Luigi to safety. 

            Unfortunately, the encounter with Boolossus had only been the warm-up.  Shortly after the giant Boo’s defeat, King Boo had torn open a paranormal portal on the Treacherous Mansion’s terrace, leaving Evershade Valley to the mercy of crazed ghosts.

            And what did Gadd do?  He sent Luigi right into the thick of it.

            Yeah, that was being a good mentor, wasn’t it?

            He was practically glued to his seat, watching Luigi on his monitor while also keeping an eye on a map projection of the Treacherous Mansion.  All of the affected rooms were currently bright green, but the color was slowly and ominously fading to yellow.  And once the color changed to red, then there wouldn’t be anything anyone could do anymore.

            It got to the point that Gadd had to emotionally detach himself as he guided Luigi from one infested room to the other.  He had to dissociate himself from the encroaching fear for his mentee’s life as he watched Luigi diligently square off against the enhanced ghosts attacking him.  He had to force himself not to jump each time he heard a crash of “thunder”.  And he had to force himself not to pass out as Luigi was punched and smacked around by these ghosts.

            What was going through Luigi’s head right now?  Was he afraid he was going to die?  Did he think he was going to die?  Was he secretly upset at Gadd for getting him into this mess?  Was he also trying not to lose his sanity?

            The feeling was as if he’d split himself in two, with half of him being on the outside looking in at his other half and fighting the urge to rush back inside.  Gadd’s voice was surprisingly steady as he continued to guide Luigi through perilous territory.  Luigi’s voice was also steady as he kept him updated him on what was going on, leading Gadd to wonder if Luigi was also dissociating himself from the raging emotions he was no doubt feeling.  Then, he remembered that Luigi was someone who put his loved ones before himself, and the fact that Mario was in the middle of this paranormal chaos was keeping him from panicking.

            When Gadd saw a surge of paranormality on the terrace, 72 years of experience could hardly prepare him for the madness that greeted Luigi.  Dangerously enhanced ghosts surged out of that portal in droves, assailing him with all their might.  And it was during that showdown where Gadd truly felt old—he felt old and helpless, because he thought Luigi could die thanks to a problem he caused.  He saw the ghosts repeatedly send Luigi reeling and knock him sprawling.  He saw them draw blood.  He saw Luigi remain standing, by the grace of God.  And he had to keep his emotions distanced from the rest of him, for fear that he might lose his head and make an already bad situation worse.

            He sat there with his four Toad Assistants, watching, remembering to breathe, praying.  The terrace had long since turned yellow, and it was approaching a threatening shade of orange.  Once it turned red, Gadd reasoned that there would be three minutes until the paranormal limit was reached, at which point the entire universe would give way.

            What have I gotten Luigi into?  Why did I sell that painting?

            With only seconds to spare, Luigi averted a major catastrophe, capturing the last ghost.  Gadd sank against his chair as he watched his mentee fall to his knees, the detached paranormal researcher giving way to the relief flooding through him.

            Then, Gadd composed himself and brought Luigi back.  The younger man was in bad shape, his pupils were dilated, and he was seconds away from losing it.  Seeing him made the Professor want to hug him and tell him that everything would be okay.

            So he did.

Chapter Text

            Gadd watched as Luigi rested his bones in the Bunker’s lounge, assessing the wounds he’d sustained and tending to them appropriately.  The man in green unbuckled his overalls and then pulled off his shirt, wincing slightly as he did.  And when Gadd saw the purple and dark blue blotches all over Luigi’s bare torso, he almost forgot to breathe.

            “Here,” he said, walking over and joining him on the couch.  “Let me.”

            “Thanks,” replied Luigi, looking a bit surprised.

            Gadd took an ice pack and gently pressed it against the most bruised area, causing Luigi to slightly arch his back and grunt in pain.  The younger man then released his breath in a quiet moan, his blue eyes slightly clouded over.

            “Sorry,” Gadd said regretfully.

            “Do what you have to,” Luigi replied.

            Gadd continued treating the bruised torso with the ice pack, and dear Lord, there was swelling, too.  Luigi had also taken some cuts, blood slowly welling out of each laceration.  Setting the ice pack aside, Gadd armed himself with rubbing alcohol and cotton balls, whereupon he set about disinfecting the lacerations.

            “Luigi, I’m so sorry,” Gadd said again.

            “Don’t apologize,” said Luigi.  “You had no way of knowing.  You didn’t see this coming.”

            “But you don’t understand,” said Gadd, close to tears.  “I f—ed up big-time.  I sold that godforsaken painting to a complete stranger.  Come to think of it, maybe he arranged for that to happen.  And now…”

            He wrapped bandages around Luigi’s wounds.  “I woke you up and dragged you here to clean up my mess, despite knowing that you hate ghosts, subjecting to more trauma…”

            Luigi cut off his mentor by drawing him into a hug.

            “Professor, look at me.”

            Gadd obliged.

            “It was my choice.  My choice alone.  I wanted to help you.  Not just because you helped me, but also because—it’s right.  Most people call on Mario when they need help, and for me—crickets.  But you reached out to me.  You said, ‘Luigi, I’m in trouble, and only you can stop this from falling apart’.  And I promise you—I won’t let you down.”

            Gadd’s arms rounded his mentee, his head reclined on Luigi’s chest.

            “I know, youngster.  I know you won’t.”

            They held each other for a lingering minute or two before separating.

            “You’re the most dependable fellow I know,” Gadd said softly.

            Luigi responded with a [bleep]-eating grin.  “I just so happen to be the only one, right?”

            “You’re the only ghost-wrangler I know,” chuckled Gadd, “but I’ve never encountered anyone more dependable than you.”

            Luigi beamed.  “Thanks, Professor.”

            He pulled his shirt back on and refastened his overalls.

            “You’re ready to continue?” asked Gadd.

            “Indeed,” replied Luigi.

            Hand-in-hand, the two of them walked back toward the Bunker’s main area, so Gadd could brief Luigi on his next task.

Chapter Text

            Fred was at Luigi’s side in one leap, his eyes widened as he took in the thrashing the Three Sisters had given him.  The young man’s eyes were slightly watery, and he was trying not to let the pain show in his facial expression.  His arm was cradling his midsection, and he was taking slow, deep breaths.

            “Oh, my holy God,” uttered Fred.

            “I’m okay,” breathed Luigi.  “I’ve taken worse than this.”

            “Can you walk?” asked Fred.

            “Yeah.”

            Luigi straightened.

            “Aw, man—I’m sorry I put you through this,” said Fred.

            “You didn’t do anything,” said Luigi.

            “Except get myself captured,” grumbled Fred.

            “You were caught off guard, and so was the Professor,” Luigi told him.  “I don’t blame you, and neither should you.”

            His Dual Scream rang, and he answered it with a brisk “Yello?”

            “Were those the Three Sisters?” asked Gadd.

            “Looks that way,” replied Luigi.  “They were very pleasurable company.”

            “Unbelievable!  They’re usually quite gentle souls!” exclaimed Gadd.  “This is the first time they’ve wandered around, looking for a fight.”

            “Well, I wasn’t really looking for a fight,” said Luigi, “but then they started zeroing in on Fred, and I couldn’t let him get hurt.”

            “That’s what I like about you, Luigi,” said Gadd.  “You have fears, but they’re moot when it comes to defending others.”

            “It looks like I’m close to the old Pixelshifter you were talking about,” said Luigi.  “I’ll see you in a jiff.”

            “Hold on a second…!”

            But Luigi had already hung up.  Then, he held his hand out to Fred.

            Fred took it.  “You look awful,” he observed.

            “You don’t,” replied Luigi.  “That’s all that matters to me.”

            “Why do you take beatings for other people?” asked Fred as they searched for a way out of the haunted graveyard.

            “Who else will?” Luigi asked back.

            One of the coffins lowered the pair into the sewers, and the continued into the gardener’s lab, where the old Pixelator screen waited.

            “Thank you, Luigi,” said Fred.

            “You’re welcome,” replied Luigi.

            “You’re a good protector,” Fred went on, “and you take so much pain for friends and strangers alike.  But who’s gonna take a beating for you?”

            “I don’t need people taking beatings for me,” said Luigi.

            “All I’m saying is—you need to set aside some time for yourself,” said Fred, “because it’ll be hard protecting people when you’re seriously injured—or worse.”

            The Toad Assistant hugged Luigi.

            “I’ll see you in the Bunker,” he said.

            “See ya,” replied Luigi.

            The man in green pulled a lever to activate the Pixelator screen, watching Fred go and mulling over the Toad’s words.

Chapter Text

            “Don’t be afraid.  I’m gonna get you out of this.”

            Luigi spoke these words to Zed as a pair of Greenies encased in paranormal shields floated toward them.  Zed acknowledged Luigi with a nod, and then he watched the man in green stun the two ghosts, shatter the paranormal shields and then suck them into his vacuum.

            Zed was irrationally afraid of clocks, a fear he’d spent most—all—of his life endeavoring to kick.  He’d been ready to give up hope until he heard about Luigi.  He was afraid of ghosts, which were worse than clocks, but he was able to stand up to them because Mario was in danger.  The Toad Assistant then figured that if Luigi could fight his fears, then so could he.  Close to four years ago, Zed went to work for Professor Gadd, along with four other Toads, and upon their move to Evershade Valley, he volunteered to watch over Old Clockworks, seeing an opportunity to wrestle his phobia to the ground.  The degree of success varied from day to day.

            “I’m trying to get into the Clock Tower Gate,” said Luigi, bringing Zed back to the present, “but the rotor is missing.  Can I count on you to help me find it?”

            Zed grinned.  “Leave it to me!” he replied.

            Luigi returned the smile, and the two exited the synchronization room together.

            Once outside, more Greenies harassed Zed, but Luigi would have none of it.

            “Hey!  You leave him alone!” he exclaimed, launching himself into battle against the ghosts.  Zed found a suitable hiding spot and watched the action.  Who knew that a man like Luigi would make for a good bodyguard?

            The Toad Assistant made sure to thank Luigi after that skirmish ended.

            However, the biggest fight was yet to come.

            During their search for the rotor, the pair was attacked by a Sneaker with strange white markings on their body, initially sending trios of Greenies to do the fighting for them.  Without missing a beat, Luigi told Zed to stay behind him and stay calm.  It was more difficult to do the latter, of course, but Luigi’s presence deemed it worth a shot.

            It was a brutal throwdown.  The Greenies employed as many means of protection as possible against Luigi, from shovels to paranormal shields to bandages and stilts.  When the Sneaker joined the battle, it made things even more harrowing.  They’d swoop in, grab Zed and use them as a shield, and Luigi would grow noticeably upset whenever that happened.  He’d do his best to stay between the ghost and the Toad Assistant, consequently taking a major battering.  Gashes from the shovel strikes covered him, and there was bruising and swelling from the Greenies’ punches.  He was sweaty, flushed and winded, but he kept fighting.

            Zed was strangely unafraid as he watched Luigi struggle against the Sneaker.  Why should he be afraid?  Here was someone fighting his hardest to keep him safe, someone who was ironically good at wrangling ghosts despite (probably) hoping never to deal with them again.  Luigi was someone you’d want to accompany you if you found yourself having to walk home in the middle of the night.  He wasn’t like a conventional hero, but he was a hero, defending people at the drop of a hat and asking for nothing in return.

            The first thing Luigi asked Zed after defeating the Slinker was, “Are you hurt?”

            Never mind that he was hurt—his focus was on Zed and if he was okay.

            “No,” Zed replied, “but you are.”

            “Better me than you,” Luigi replied.

            If that wasn’t being a defender, then what was?

            After they’d uncovered the rotor and were in the Bunker, recovering, Zed replayed the adventure in his mind.  Luigi standing between him and the ghosts, taking blows for him.  Standing there in the aftermath of the battle, breathing hard and sweating.  His voice quiet and soothing, making him forget about the fact that they were in a building filled with clockworks.  The way he’d offer high-fives after major accomplishments.  His outrage when he initially suspected that Gadd was making him work in the Old Clockworks despite his fear and his encouraging words after Zed had explained the situation.

            “It’s hard, but it’s doable,” Luigi had said, referring to the art of facing one’s fears.

            And perhaps he was right.

Chapter Text

            Could anyone describe Luigi with just one word?

            Probably not.

            And he probably wouldn’t want to.

            For most of his life, people have tried to use one word to pin him down—coward.

            Coward, or scaredy-cat—take your pick.  But they mostly denounced him as a coward.

            Day after day, year after year—Luigi proved them all wrong.  But they kept at it anyway.

            That was why he fought so hard when danger arrived.

            He’d insist on fighting and fighting and fighting until he could fight no longer, even at the cost of his own health and well-being.  His condition became second to the condition of anyone in harm’s way, friends or strangers.

            The more an adversary unnerved him, the more fiercely he battled that adversary.  And while some people gradually took the hint, a few others didn’t.

            It wasn’t until the first time Luigi rescued Mario that he was finally taken seriously as a hero.  There wasn’t a lot of pomp, but it was at least something.

            Unfortunately, he remained “a background player”, with Mario in the spotlight two-thirds of the time.  The populace still tended to stumble over his name, but that was okay.  His heroism had been a vital shot in the arm.  He had nothing to prove to them anymore.

            So, Luigi wasn’t a person who could be defined with one word.  And he’d prefer it if it stayed that way.

Chapter Text

            He opened his eyes and saw that he was no longer surrounded by swirls of purple.  Instead, he was on the Treacherous Mansion’s terrace, the paranormal portal sealed for good, a myriad of stars glimmering above him.  And near the altar where the portal once floated—was Mario.

            Next thing Luigi knew, he was running toward the captive man in red, and then he was right in front of him, pressing a hand, and then a cheek, against the canvas, comforting Mario as well as himself.  He’d been dragged into a cold, harsh alien dimension where nobody could hear him scream, but regardless, he’d clawed his way out—because nobody messed with his bro and got away with it.

            Luigi stood there for countless minutes, talking reassuringly to his imprisoned bro.  He wasn’t aware of Gadd arriving on the scene or of his mentor walking over to him.  Everything else except Mario was practically shut out.

            Until—

            “Hey, youngster.”

            Luigi turned to face Gadd, the latter’s image blurred due to the tears in the former’s eyes.

            “Professor—King Boo—he’s gone insane!” he cried.  “He was gonna—he was gonna use the ghosts to take over the world—his personal army!  He threatened not just my bro, but also you and the rest of my friends!  All I was thinking was that I couldn’t let that monster get his hands on them!”  He swallowed a sob.

            “But you got him,” Gadd said soothingly.

            Luigi nodded, and then he faced Mario’s painting.  “I could hear him, even in that pocket dimension,” he said.  “He told me he wasn’t afraid, because he had so much faith in me.  If it weren’t for that, I probably would’ve broken.”  He lightly touched his forehead to the monochrome portrait and whispered something.

            “I have faith in you, too,” said Gadd.

            Luigi swung back around.

            “I have so much faith in you, my boy.  That’s why I called you.  You saved me, you saved my Toad Assistants, you saved Evershade Valley, and most importantly, you saved the world.  If I had a hat, then I’d take it off to you, although—I’m not really a hat person.”

            Gadd put an arm around Luigi.  “I wanna take the time to say—thanks.”

            “You’re welcome.  And thank you—for believing in me.”

            Gadd’s eyes misted over behind his spectacles.

            “All right,” he said.  “Let’s get your brother out of there.”

            Again, he felt that wave of relief washing over him.

            Again, he held Mario in his arms.

            Again, his tears broke loose.

            Again, he heard Mario’s voice in his ear, soothing him.

            Again, Mario’s arms rounded him.

            And again, it felt so good.

            “Mario!” he cried.

            “Hey—I’m here,” Mario replied.

            “I tried calling you, and…”

            “I was exercising,” Mario explained.  “I’d just finished showering, and I was about to answer my phone when he attacked!  I fought as hard as he could, but he overpowered me—again.”

            “Mario—he’ll never touch you again.  I swear on my life, he’ll never touch you again.”

            “Thank God for you, Luigi,” breathed Mario.  “You saved my life—twice.”

            “I—did it.”

            “Yes, you did.  You’re number one!”

            “Bro…”

            “Bro…”

            They were both crying now, crying and hugging passionately on the floor of the Terrace as Gadd watched in respectful silence.

            “You’re safe now, Mario.  Safe—with me.”

            “I know, Luigi.  I know.”

            They remained in their embrace, bathing each other’s faces with their tears.  Once they’d cried themselves out, they basked in the serene silence, breathing in sync, eyes closed, matching smiles on their faces.

            They were reunited.  Again.

            Luigi had stared down King Boo.  Again.

            And he’d fended off the source of his worst nightmares.  Again.

Chapter Text

            The fight atop the Clock Tower felt like a round robin.  One opponent or groups of opponents after the other without even a second’s break in between.  Luigi could’ve given up at any time during the battle, but he didn’t.  He thought about how far he’d progressed, about the puzzles he’d solved and the perilous situations he’d escaped to reach this point.  And he pictured his mentor’s face, waiting it out inside his Bunker.  While he was mildly resentful of Gadd remaining in a comfortable and safe environment, he also knew that the elderly professor was worried for him, in his own strange way.

            Each “hour” on the clock was devoted to a specific enemy or group of enemies, with only one minute to win the fight.  Each of these fights grew progressively tougher, and while Luigi could “cheat” a little by using his exhaust function to push the minute hand backward and give himself more time, he found himself taking a boatload of punishment before vacuuming up the ghost or ghosts.  The possessor causing all of this would attack every four “hours”, giving Luigi a chance to vacuum away the possessor’s two ghosts before retiring them for good.

            Twelve fights, back-to-back.  Fifteen, if you count the possessor’s appearances.  Each of those fights felt like an actual hour had elapsed.  Any other person would’ve been brought to their knees, and Luigi almost was, but he wasn’t any other person, was he?

            One o’clock brought a Greenie.  Two o’clock brought three Greenies.  Three o’clock brought five Greenies.  Four o’clock brought two Slammers which left him breaking a sweat and smarting.  After that, the possessor made their first appearance, repeatedly charging Luigi like a bull in their force field.  They eventually grew exhausted and dropped their shield, and Luigi counterattacked, suctioning off his adversary’s first coat.

            The round robin started back up mere seconds after the possessor’s retreat.  Five o’clock brought sand and green beetles.  Six o’clock brought three Sneakers.  Seven o’clock brought three armed Greenies, and precious time was wasted as he sought to evade their attacks, disarm them and then wrestle them into his vacuum.  All he wanted was for this to stop, but he knew that it would never happen.  It wouldn’t stop unless he defeated them all.

            So he would.

            Eight o’clock brought “mummies”—Greenies wrapped in bandages and walking on stilts.  The only way to defeat them was to knock them off balance and then yank away their bandages.  After their defeat, the possessor made their second appearance, losing their second coat after a brief skirmish.

            The last part of the round robin was the hardest.  Both clock hands glowed red hot while enemies assailed Luigi.  Nine o’clock brought a second beetle barrage, leaving him with a liberal amount of beetle bites.  Ten o’clock brought five Creepers who frequently caught him in their gelatinous embraces.  Eleven o’clock brought robotic bombs—Robombs—which activated with a simple Strobulb flash and then chased him all over the clock, trying to catch him in their detonations.  And twelve o’clock was the grand finale—Greenies, Robombs, Sneakers, beetles, Slammers and armed Greenies.  By the time Luigi cleared all of them out, he was nearly dead on his feet.  But he also felt like an athlete a few simple yards away from the finish line after running an intense marathon.  The only direction he could go was forward.

            The possessor put up a great fight, but Luigi put up a greater one, finally wresting them into his vacuum and obtaining another Dark Moon piece.  This Hellish round robin was over, with him as the winner, and all he wanted to do was collapse and fall asleep for at least ten years.

            But there was still work to be done, and Luigi still had promises to keep.  It would hurt, but he’d steadfastly press on.

            “Hey, Professor,” he exhaled into the Dual Scream.  “I did it.”

Chapter Text

            Another positive trait about Luigi was that he was always open.  His mind was open, and his heart was open.  While he was far from a “yes-man”, and he didn’t agree with everything, he still entertained the points of the other side.

            However, Luigi wasn’t without his faults.  Until now, he tended to think that most, if not all, ghosts were malevolent and out for his blood.  Despite encountering a couple of friendly ghosts twelve years ago, this sentiment remained unchanged.  Tonight’s events served to challenge his perceptions on ghosts.

            First of all, these ghosts had their minds broken, so they didn’t know what they were doing when they attacked Luigi.  Second of all, the Boos had experimented on the ghosts.  Luigi remembered the sight of those ghosts, trapped in the crystals in the Secret Mine, begging to be let out and then writhing in pain as the crystal’s magic surged through them.  At that point, he knew that the ghosts were the victims, just as much as him, Gadd and the Toad Assistants.  Nonetheless, they still battered him, especially in their enhanced forms, and he had no choice but to defend himself from them.

            And once the day was saved and the Dark Moon was restored, the ghosts reverted to their benign selves.  They bore no ill will toward Luigi and Gadd, and as soon as they were freed from containment, they immediately started playing with the Toad Assistants and mingling with Gadd.  The sight plunged Luigi deep into thought and made him realize how mildly prejudiced he’d been.  He shouldn’t think negatively of ghosts just because of a bad experience.

            The man in green voiced his thoughts to Gadd and Mario as the latter two addressed his wounds.

            “It’s not wise to judge a book by its cover,” he said.  “From now on, I’ll start cutting ghosts a little slack.  I can’t believe I’ve been wrong about them this whole time.”

            “I can’t say I blame you,” said Gadd.

            “Neither can I,” Mario joined in.

            “Maybe—maybe I can spend some time in Evershade Valley and get to know these ghosts,” mused Luigi.  “Tonight, I saw that not all ghosts are ill-tempered and hostile.  Hopefully, some exposure will help me learn not to fear them so much.”

            “I’d like that,” said Gadd.

            “What can I say?  Evershade Valley is starting to grow on me,” said Luigi.  “Professor, is it okay if I help you with your research?”

            “I never thought you’d ask that,” smiled Gadd.  “However, you’re currently in no condition to do anything hands-on.”

            “I know.”

            “And you’re also in no condition to travel.  I think Gloomy Manor is the best place for you to stay during your recovery.”

            Luigi nodded to show that he understood.

            “There’s another fact I’ve come to accept,” he said after a while.

            “What’s that?” asked Mario.

            “Dealing with ghosts is just—part of who I am.  I’m pretty d—n good at it, that’s for sure.  I’ve tried to distance myself from it, and with good reason, but after what happened tonight, I’ve come to think of catching ghosts as a perfect side-job.”

            “Good man,” said Gadd.

            “You should be paying me, after all, what with you dragging me out of bed in the middle of the night and dropping me into perilous situations while you cool your heels in that Bunker of yours,” Luigi went on, half-jokingly.

            “Yeah,” conceded Gadd.  “Maybe I should.”

            “But that’s a discussion for another time,” Luigi said warmly.

            “I concur.”

            Luigi fell silent as Gadd and Mario treated the rest of his injuries.

            The man in green was the bravest and most loyal person you’d ever meet.  He was also the most open person you’d ever meet.  Open to new ideas, new perceptions, new hobbies—and new occupations.

            It was just another of the many traits that made Luigi—Luigi.

Chapter Text

            Let me tell you a story about a ghost wrangler and a ghost dog.

            On a chilly March night in 2013, Luigi was tasked with recovering the pieces of the shattered Dark Moon to save Evershade Valley from falling into chaos.  This task was divided into a series of smaller tasks, culminating in a fight with a possessor ghost for a Dark Moon piece.

            From start to finish, these seemingly simple tasks leading up to retrieving the Dark Moon piece were complicated by ghosts, forcing Luigi to sidetrack and fight his way out of potential traps.  But a few of these hindrances were more annoying than life-threatening.

            Evershade Valley was home to an adorable and mischievous ghostly puppy, simply known as Polterpup.  He didn’t want any trouble, really—all he wanted was someone to play with.  Attention.  Cuddles.  Pets.  Belly rubs.  Doggie treats.  Affectionate whispers.  Love.  And he’d do anything to get some kind of attention.

            When Polterpup came across the man in green exploring the valley, he was so excited, the Dark Moon’s absence not diminishing his desire for human interaction.  He first introduced himself by playfully grabbing some sort of key out of Luigi’s hand.  Of course, he didn’t know that the key was important.  All he planned to do was to initiate a game of chase, like all dogs.

            “No, no, no!  Bad doggie!”

            Luigi’s tone was admonishing, but not mean.  Polterpup gave a happy bark and bounded away, and sure enough, Luigi followed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a golden bone.

            In a softer voice, he said, “I have something for you.”

            Polterpup trotted to Luigi, who immediately dropped to his knees.  The big smile on the young man’s face was an instant snare.  Luigi held out the golden bone to him, but while it was a tasty snack, it was the doting Polterpup craved.  Taking a chance, the ghostly pup licked Luigi’s face, eliciting a chuckle from him.

            When Polterpup rolled onto his back, Luigi understood the message and obliged by lavishing the pup with belly rubs.  Polterpup closed his eyes and gave a soft, contented whine.

            “Do you remember the key you took earlier?”

            “Arf?”

            “I really need that key to get to the treetop.  If I gave you another treat, would you give me that key?”

            Craftily, Polterpup grabbed the key in his jaws, carried it toward Luigi—and then swallowed it, kicking off a fun chase throughout the Haunted Towers.  However, he didn’t count on his pursuer sucking him into a vacuum when he caught up with him.  To his credit, Luigi did look regretful.

            Not to worry, though—Polterpup escaped the vacuum and encountered Luigi twice more.  Two more exciting chases involving a clock hand and another key, ensued.  And deep in his doggie heart, Polterpup sensed that Luigi had taken a bit of a liking to him, too.  He wasn’t trying to capture him out of spite—he just wanted the trinkets the doggie took.  Luigi seemed harried, too, some hefty responsibility which Polterpup didn’t yet know weighing on his shoulders, preoccupied by thoughts, and a bit rattled.  Later, he’d remember the bruises and cuts he’d seen on Luigi, and the flighty realization that he’d unintentionally dragged out whatever he’d set out to accomplish.

            After the third chase, Polterpup was successfully captured and sent to the containment unit with the other ghosts.  His imprisonment didn’t last long, however, as he was freed just moments after the Dark Moon was repaired.  The finality of the trouble he’d caused crashed down on him, and he slowly made his way over to Luigi, expecting a round of well-deserved admonishment.

            The admonishment never came.  Instead, forgiveness radiated from Luigi as he said, “Come here, doggie.”

            Happily, Polterpup leaped into Luigi’s arms and licked his cheek, relieved that the man in green was willing to put what had happened behind him and move forward.

            Luigi signing the adoption papers a month later was naught but a formality.  Polterpup had already stolen his heart.

            After so many years of waiting and wishing, Polterpup now had what he’d always wanted.  Someone to play with.  Attention.  Cuddles.  Belly rubs.  Doggie treats.  Affectionate whispers.  Warm baths.  Walks in the park.  Love.

            Polterpup had found a home.

Chapter Text

October 2019

            Trust was like a shoreline, or a rock formation near a body of water.  It could be eroded.

            So it was with Luigi and Professor Elvin Gadd.  The relationship between mentee and mentor had been going strong for eighteen years.  There were frequent visits and lunch dates, letters flew back and forth between them, and Gadd even made a brand-new Poltergust for Luigi.  The man in green had every reason in the world to trust the Professor.

            But it was Gadd who had inadvertently kickstarted the Dark Moon incident by selling King Boo’s portrait.  In the ensuing confusion, he’d forgotten all about his Toad Assistants.  And he’d probably known that Mario was in danger before he saw Ed and Zed’s security snapshot.  However, Luigi was willing to chalk this up to forgetfulness, due to stress and old age.  He wondered if it was time for Gadd to either retire or simply work part-time.

            However, eighteen years after they met, Gadd and Luigi’s relationship hit stormy seas.

            Luigi should’ve known that the invite to a free stay at a new luxurious hotel was too good to be true.  The fact that it was called The Last Resort should’ve sent up a red flare.  Hellen’s rather creepy behavior certainly rubbed him the wrong way.  But by the time Luigi’s suspicions were realized, it was too late.  His tormentor had escaped, and now almost everyone he’d ever loved was in the King’s sadistic clutches.  Later, he’d find out what had been done to his brother, his “sister” and the three Toads, worsening his guilt.

            If not for that laundry chute, or for Polterpup leading him to the parking garage—

            At first, it all played out like a scene from a horror movie.  Discovering that the ghosts had sealed him and the others inside.  The “Wanted” posters with his face on them.  The phone on the front desk ringing, bearing a taunting message from Hellen.  The sight of Professor Gadd in his own portrait prison, hanging in a ballroom of sorts on the mezzanine.  King Boo had meticulously planned everything, but he didn’t count for his prey leaping down a laundry chute, or for Gadd to bring the Poltergust along, “just in case”.

            Thank God for that.

            By the time Luigi freed Gadd from his painting, his blood was pumping, and his top priority was getting his mentor to safety and making his way toward the others.  He’d never forget just how frail Gadd looked in that moment, bruised and shaken.  He was one of the greatest minds in paranormal science, but he was also just an old man.  The two of them hugged, and then Luigi made it clear than under no uncertain terms would he leave his friends behind.

            Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t.

            Luigi escorted Gadd to his car at the latter’s behest, where Steward, the bellhop, waited for them.  Immediately, all of Luigi’s energies went to protecting his mentor, first shielding Gadd from the first suitcase Steward tossed, and then directing him to a safe hiding spot while he faced off against the ghost.  By the end of the fight, Luigi was winded and covered in bruises, leaning against one of the cars in the garage and studying the two elevator buttons Steward had dropped.

            Gadd had taken the time to thank Luigi for not only freeing him from his confines but also defending him against Steward.  And Luigi truly appreciated that.

            The scientist set up his portable lab, iced Luigi’s bruises and offered him something to eat (which Luigi politely declined).  Then, Gadd explained how he’d wound up trapped in the hotel.  During his story, Luigi immediately sensed that Gadd was hiding something, though he couldn’t fathom what.  Before he could really press the matter, Gadd asked him to install a tracker on the elevator and gave him a communication device known as the Virtual Boo.  After that, he sent him to the fifth floor to retrieve a briefcase.

            Luigi wanted nothing more than to resume his search for his imperiled friends, and here he was, running errands for Gadd, just like he did six years ago.  He swallowed back his agitation and headed toward Gadd’s room, reasoning that the briefcase contained something that could help him.

            He was right—and the briefcase didn’t contain something helpful, but someone helpful.

            Inside that briefcase was none other than Luigi’s gooey doppelganger, Gooigi.  Gooigi had been created just last year, forming an instant rapport with Luigi.  Gooigi couldn’t physically express emotion, but he could feel emotions, think for himself and speak in complete sentences.  While he could slip through cracks and crevices, he was vulnerable to water and open flame.  Later, Luigi would learn that Gooigi vibrated around Boos.

            Luigi was more than grateful for the extra help.  But he didn’t just see Gooigi as “the help”—he saw him as a friend and a confidante, someone who would have his back from start to finish.

            As they explored the hotel together, Luigi and Gooigi listened to the music on the former’s phone.  In between fighting ghosts, escaping traps, searching for keys and gems and battling tough bosses, Luigi bared all to Gooigi, and Gooigi listened and bared all to Luigi in turn.  They hugged each other when they needed it and comforted each other when they needed it.  When Gooigi promised Luigi that he’d be with him to the end of the line, he didn’t take those words lightly.

            But Luigi still had the nagging feeling that Gadd wasn’t being completely honest with him.  His story had a lot of missing pieces in it.  The elderly professor had broken eye contact several times, and Luigi had seen fidgeting, along with several other nervous tics.  Since Gadd was helping him save his bro and his friends, he figured that he shouldn’t press the matter.  But if Gadd was somehow responsible for this happening, then didn’t he deserve to know?

            “A bit of Goo for your thoughts?” Gooigi’s voice pulled him out of his reverie.

            Luigi studied Gooigi, feeling that he could trust the gooey humanoid with anything.  “It’s about the Professor,” he said.

            Gooigi tilted his head.

            “I’m feeling like there’s something he isn’t telling me,” Luigi went on.  “He said that he was lured to this hotel, along with me and the others, but—I’m starting to think that there’s more to the story.”

            “If he’s hiding something from you, then I think there’s a reason,” said Gooigi.

            “There’s never a reason for people to hide things from each other,” Luigi fired back.  “Eighteen years ago, he saved my life, and we’ve been like father and son ever since.  He’s never kept secrets from me.  So, why should he start now?”

            Gooigi listened silently.

            “Gooigi—has the Professor been honest with you?”

            “Of course.  He taught me everything I know.  There are no secrets between us.”

            “When he received an invite to this hotel, were you there?”

            “Yes, I was.”

            “Can you tell me about it, please?”

            “Sure,” chirped Gooigi.

            They found a place to sit, and Gooigi began to speak.

            “It wasn’t a written invitation like yours.  It was an invite by phone.  He got the call at around noon, just as we were finishing lunch, and he stepped away to take it.  I figured that it was none of my business, so I didn’t listen in, but I remember that his voice got really excited.  He talked for a long time, fifteen minutes at least.  When he came back, he was smiling ear-to-ear, and he told me that we were going to a convention.”

            “He did say something about a convention,” said Luigi.

            “He told me lot of paranormal scientists and researchers from all over the globe would be there,” continued Gooigi.  “It would be an insult not to attend, according to him.  Then, the Professor said that there was a luxury hotel near the convention hall, and that we’d been offered free accommodations for the event’s duration.  That was a week ago.  Between then and tonight, he was getting ready, and I was helping.  And I asked him which of the ghosts he was gonna show off at the convention.”

            Luigi’s breath caught.  “What did he say?”

            “He looked a little—guilty—before he answered,” said Gooigi.  “Then, he told me that Hellen, the person who’d called him, somehow knew that he had King Boo in his custody and insisted that he be the Professor’s showcase.”

            An awful feeling welled up inside Luigi’s stomach.

            “The Professor quickly assured me that he’d tried to talk Hellen out of it.  He tried to interest her in another ghost in his collection.  But Hellen was unmoved.  She said—she said—unless the Professor brought King Boo, he’d be booted off the guest list.”

            Luigi’s mouth dropped open.

            “He chose a spot in some convention over the health and safety of my friends.  Is that what you’re saying?” he asked.

            “For the record, he had no way of knowing it was a trap,” said Gooigi.  “He said that after explaining everything to Hellen, she assured him that King Boo would be handled with the utmost care, and that security would be tight when it came to him.”

            “‘No way of knowing’.  78 years of experience, and he had ‘no way of knowing’.”  Luigi’s heart was slamming against his ribcage, and his cheeks were hot.  “B.S.  He saw for himself what King Boo could do.  He promised me that he’d keep that sick b—d under lock and key.  He stood there, he looked me in the eye and he promised me.”

            “The night before we left, the Professor decided to bring the new Poltergust along, as a precaution,” said Gooigi.

            Luigi had told Gadd about his upcoming stay at the hotel, and the latter had promised to hold on to the vacuum until the man in green returned.

            “So—he probably thought something was amiss,” offered Gooigi.

            “The Poltergust was in the trunk of his car,” said Luigi, his voice beginning to rise.  “What use would it be there?  Unless he didn’t plan to use it himself, and he figured that I’d somehow show up and clean up his mess—again.”

            His fists clenched.  He flashed back to the image of Mario and co. and their terrified faces, the fluorescent lipstick marks on their skin.  He remembered the King, circling him, his tongue all over him, licking his panicked tears.  He recalled the chase down the hallway, the laundry chute, the fleeting hope that it was only a nightmare.  The mocking phone calls, all Internet and cellular services disconnected, the ghosts, the traps—

            “It was him,” Luigi spat out.  “He got us into this.”

            He was breathing heavily now.  Gooigi’s soft hand was on the small of his back, rubbing slow circles into it.

            “What kind of person throws over seven decades of experience down the drain just because he wants to attend a f—ing convention?!”

            “Bro…” Gooigi said softly.

            “I knew he was leaving something out,” seethed Luigi.  “He doesn’t have a good poker face.  I actually thought he cared more about me than about his research.  Obviously, I was wrong.”

            He sat there in silence, Gooigi continuing to rub his back.

            Abruptly, he leaped to his feet and threw a punch at the wall, cursing.

            “Bro!” Gooigi exclaimed.

            Luigi punched the wall several more times until Gooigi grabbed him and pulled him into a hug.

            “S’okay, Bro,” whispered Gooigi.  “S’okay.  I’m here.  S’okay.  S’okay.”

            No, it’s not, Luigi wanted to say, but as he returned Gooigi’s embrace, he recalled his therapist’s advice—think positively.  This was the second time Gadd’s actions had put him and everyone around him in mortal danger.  While the first mistake—selling King Boo’s portrait—was made while Gadd was distracted and stressed, he had no such excuse for this one.  He had to know what he was doing when he agreed to bring King Boo to this so-called “convention”.  And now look what happened.

            Luigi didn’t know if he could trust Gadd anymore.  He didn’t know if Gadd could do his job correctly anymore.

            He didn’t know if Gadd was a good mentor anymore.

            He just didn’t know anymore.

            But—

            If he brought this to Gadd’s attention, and if he was willing to talk about it, then Luigi would hear him out.  He wouldn’t attack the scientist, and he wouldn’t get violent with him.  He’d sit quietly and calmly as Gadd explained himself.

            A quiet storm of emotions surged through Luigi as he and Gooigi hugged.  He reached up and turned off his earpiece, another means of communication between him and Gadd.  He also turned off the Virtual Boo.  If he tried talking to Gadd now, then he’d lose it.  Simply lose it.  Have a complete and total meltdown that would make things worse.

            “What are you gonna do?” asked Gooigi.

            “I need to clear my head,” replied Luigi.  “How about we do a little more exploring, fight some more ghosts, earn some more elevator buttons, maybe—rescue another of my friends, and then we go back and talk to him?”

            “Sounds good,” Gooigi said quietly.

            The two separated from their embrace and set off, Luigi allowing the storm within him to still—for now.

Chapter Text

            Professor Gadd hadn’t heard from Luigi for what seemed like hours.  He’d tried to reach him via the Virtual Boo and the earpiece, to no avail.  Gadd tried to reassure himself that Luigi had just lost his signal for a moment, but deep down, he knew the truth.  He knew that Luigi had figured everything out.

            It was his fault that Luigi was doing this for the third time.  Beguiled by the promise of exposure, Gadd had cast aside all caution and agreed to bring King Boo along to the convention after Hellen had threatened to pull him out.  He’d taken every last precaution—keeping King Boo in the escape-proof vault, bringing the Poltergust along, designating Luigi as his emergency contact.  But in the end, those precautions had done no good.

            After checking into the hotel, Gadd had fallen asleep, only for Hellen to wake him a few hours later and demand that he show her King Boo.  Like a d—n fool, he’d led her to his car, where King Boo was out of his vault, waiting for him, accompanied by his brethren.  Hellen had grabbed Gadd, restraining him, while the Boos had taken turns laying a beatdown on him, with King Boo the last one to do so.  After the terrific thrashing, the King had shoved Gadd into a portrait frame, where all he could do was kick himself for making this mess and hope against hope that help would come.

            And help did come, in the form of Luigi.  As it turned out, they’d been invited to the same hotel and were involved in the same trap.  How could Gadd forget the sight of his mentee, his skin flushed from exertion, mildly bruised, urgency in his eyes, the Poltergust on his back and sans a shirt?  Luigi told him that he’d been caught unawares, and that it was a miracle he was able to escape via a laundry chute and find the Poltergust in his car.  The Professor was hardly surprised when Luigi refused to leave until he’d saved all of his friends.

            The rest was a bit of a blur.  Gadd and Luigi taking the elevator to the basement, encountering Steward in the parking garage, Gadd watching Luigi defend him from the ghostly bellhop and recalling the times when he was young, dark-haired and in the thick of the action before silently debating over whether he truly deserved Luigi’s protection, vowing to no longer take his mentee for granted.

            After the pulse-pounding fight, Gadd set up his portable lab and fussed over the bruises Luigi had sustained.  Then, he offered Luigi something to eat, which the man in green politely turned down.  They talked, and the conversation soon turned to how Gadd had ended up ensnared in King Boo’s trap.  Gadd mollified Luigi with a modified account of what had happened, leaving out that he’d been specifically asked to bring King Boo.  He knew that Luigi would be frightfully upset if he told him that.  Then, he decided to busy Luigi with tasks—setting up the elevator tracker and then going to the fifth floor to grab his briefcase.  Luigi looked slightly exasperated, but he’d turned on his heel and exited the lab to tend to his mentor’s wishes.

            After the briefcase was retrieved, Gadd reintroduced Luigi to Gooigi, demonstrating the latter’s abilities by having Gooigi free Luigi from a simple and gentle trap and observing the camaraderie between Luigi and Gooigi.  Once Luigi had a quick bite to eat, he said a quick goodbye to Gadd and set off on his self-imposed mission, Gooigi and Polterpup by his side.

            From there, Gadd had plenty of time on his hands.  Plenty of time to think, plenty of time to catch up on his work—plenty of time to hope against hope that Luigi wouldn’t discover the terrible thing he’d done.  He knew that Luigi wasn’t stupid, and he knew that his own poker face left some to be desired.  He also knew that Luigi was stubborn.  If he felt that something was wrong, he’d stop at nothing to investigate it.  If someone close to him was in trouble, then he’d venture to Hell’s hottest places to save them.  And if he suspected that someone was behind someone close to him being in peril, then he’d come after that person—hard.  Luigi was a man who put the safety and well-being of others before his own.  King Boo had caught him in a state of undress, but he hadn’t stopped to put a shirt on until Gooigi had joined the party.  Gadd had to insist that Luigi eat something before exploring the hotel, and even then, the man in green had only eaten a bagel with cream cheese and gulped down some cranberry juice, reluctantly promising to check in with Gadd from time to time.

            Via the lab’s monitors, Gadd watched Luigi and Gooigi in action, slamming ghosts against the floor or into each other.  He watched the former shrug off attacks like they were nothing.  He watched Gooigi and Luigi save each other’s bacon many times over.  As he watched, he silently pleaded for Luigi to forgive him should the truth come out.

            After Luigi explored the dining area of the mezzanine, Gadd recalled him to the lab.  He felt sick when he saw his mentee limp inside, a hand firmly on his midsection.

            “Are you all right?” asked Gadd.

            “Yeah.” Luigi’s voice was a little breathy, his eyes searching Gadd’s.  Did he know already?

            “I gave him some ice in the kitchen,” said Gooigi.

            “Thank you, Gooigi,” said Gadd.

            “What’s this about?” Luigi wanted to know.

            “May I see your Poltergust for a moment?  I need to tune it up.  Gooigi, I need you to hop inside your tank.”

            “Okay,” said Gooigi as he obliged.

            Luigi handed the vacuum to Gadd, who tinkered with it for a few seconds.  Boos were out and about in the hotel, and he wanted his mentee to be better able to pinpoint their location.  Since Gooigi vibrated around Boos, he’d make for an excellent Boo tracker.  It was the least he could do after enabling their escape.

            Gadd handed the Poltergust back to Luigi and made sure he at least purchased a few snacks from his Shopping Network before seeing him off again.

            Then, he was back in solitude, watching Luigi’s exploits, contemplating and nursing a glass of Scotch.

            Eventually, company arrived in the form of Thad, who Luigi had rescued on the 4^th floor.  Thad was asleep, likely out of relief, when Luigi brought him over, the little Toad nestled in his arms.  The sight touched Gadd’s heart, but we’re getting off topic here.  Anyway, Gadd rolled out a sleeping bag for Thad and surveyed Luigi’s battered state, but the man in green was out the door before he could say anything about it.  Gooigi lingered behind to buy more snacks and supplies, however.

            Gadd didn’t tell Thad about his little dilemma.  He felt that with what the Toad retainer had just endured, he didn’t need to be dragged into this.  The Professor let Thad sleep as long as he needed, and when he woke up, he was there to greet him and reassure him that he was safe.  Then, he made sure there were magazines and books for him to read, pencils, pen and paper if he wanted to write something, an mp3 player in case he wanted to listen to music, a CD player with lots of CDs, a radio, a Nintendo Switch and some snacks and drinks.  Gadd wouldn’t push Thad to talk about what had happened to him until he was ready.

            Minutes longer than cruise ships passed without a single communication or visit from Luigi.  The feed on Gadd’s monitor abruptly cut off.  He called the man in green and received no reply.  His first thought was that Luigi was in a “dead zone”, or that he’d been incapacitated.  But his gut already knew, and it caused his stomach to knot up.

            Luigi had filled in the blanks in Gadd’s story, and he was now maintaining a cold radio silence.

            He should just cut ties with me right here and now, he thought.  When he needed me the most, I let him down.

            After nearly two decades of a strong mentorship, a hurricane loomed.  It probably wouldn’t be that terrible, since Luigi was slow to anger and usually forgiving, but it loomed all the same.  Luigi’s trust in Gadd would take a hit, a hit from which it might never fully recover.  However, Gadd was far from prideful.  He’d accept the consequences of his actions, and he’d do so gracefully.

            The Professor fixed himself something to eat and poured himself some Scotch before turning to Thad.

            “Would you care for a game of Scrabble?” he asked.

            “Sure,” Thad replied.

            They soon sat cross-legged on the floor, the game board between them, arranging the tiles into words and consulting the Scrabble Dictionary from time to time.  This engagement soothed Gadd, but not by much.  Images of Luigi standing there, disbelief, betrayal and calm fury in his eyes, swam before his mindscape.  His voice, volleying questions and accusations at him.  Their friendship on the brink and stretched taut.  What would happen the next time they saw each other?  Would Luigi walk away and never look back?  Or would he take the high road and give Gadd a chance to make this right?

            “A coin for your thoughts?”

            Thad’s voice jolted Gadd out of his reverie.  “Oh,” he said.  “Thanks, but no thanks.”

            “Why?” asked Thad.  “You can always talk to me.”

            Gadd smiled wanly.  “Thank you, Thad,” he said, “but you’ve had a trying night.”

            “Trust me—you’ll feel better if you talk about it,” Thad said gently.  “I know already that it’s Luigi-related.”

            “You—do?”

            “Yeah.  He’s probably gone silent for a reason.  So, why don’t you tell me about it?”

            Gadd took another sip of Scotch before looking Thad in the eye.  “I’m responsible,” he said.

            “For what?”

            “For all of this happening.”

            “No, you’re not,” said Thad.  “You had the wool pulled over your eyes, same as we did.”

            “There’s more to it than that,” Gadd said quietly.

            “What are you talking about?”

            “A week ago, I got a phone call.  It was Hellen.  She said that there was a paranormal science convention being held at this location and that I was invited.  For its duration, she’d comp me a free stay at this hotel.  And—she asked me to bring—one ghost in particular.”

            “Who?” Thad wanted to know.

            Gadd averted his gaze, fiddling with his Scrabble tiles.

            In that instant, Thad put two and two together.  “Oh, my holy God,” he breathed.

            “Exactly,” Gadd told him.  “I should’ve said no and hung up immediately, but instead, I took to it like a fish to water.  I ignored my conscience because I craved exposure.  I did try to sell Hellen on the idea of me bringing a different ghost, but then she went for the throat.  She threatened to give my spot to someone else.  That did it.”  Gadd spread his hands.  “So, here we are.  You, your fellow retainers, your Princess and your protector at King Boo’s mercy and Luigi in the shark’s jaws at all hours.  And it’s all my fault.”

            Quietly, the scientist began to sob.

            “Why am I even still a scientist?  I’m just a stupid, diminutive old man with stupid dreams, who never learns!”

            Gadd sobbed harder.

            Thad stood up and walked over to Gadd, throwing his arms around him.

            “Professor, look at me,” he said.

            Removing his glasses to wipe his eyes, Gadd obliged.

            “I don’t blame you,” said Thad, “and neither will Luigi or the others.  Hellen is clever and devious, and she uses manipulation to get what she wants.  When we checked in, she was able to get us to lower our guards by being courteous, aside from checking out Luigi and Peach almost all the time.  That was her sole flaw, but we also brushed it aside.  If it makes you feel any better, we’ll share the blame.”

            Gadd slid his glasses back on.  “Oh, Thad…” he murmured.

            “If Luigi figured out what happened, then what he needs is time to cool off,” Thad went on.  “He’s not someone who lashes out at people, physically or verbally.  If he does, then he’ll instantly regret it.  Luigi’s a nice guy.  He knows how to keep his anger controlled.  But he’s also passionate and speaks his mind when it comes to certain affairs, such as keeping people safe.  Professor, I know that things are iffy with you two right now, but I have a feeling that you’re gonna get through it, and your friendship will emerge stronger than ever.”

            Gadd found himself nodding.  The only way to survive a hurricane is to evacuate to higher ground.  So, that was what he’d do.

            Thad created a word on the Scrabble board.  “Your move, Professor,” he said, and Gadd knew that he wasn’t just talking about the board game.

            Gadd and Thad had traded Scrabble for a card game when the moment of truth arrived.  When the former heard the door open, he knew who it was before turning around.  Instantly, his eyes flew up to study Luigi’s face.  The younger man’s expression was carefully neutral, revealing nothing.

            Presently, Luigi had Brad balanced on his hip, the Toad retainer looking drowsy.  Gooigi stood next to Luigi, a hand on his shoulder, while Polterpup was on Luigi’s other side, happily unaware.

            “Hey, Thad,” Brad said sleepily.

            “Hey, Brad,” Thad replied.  “Hey, Luigi.”

            “Hi,” Luigi said softly.

            Brad’s eyelids began to flutter, and his head dropped onto Luigi’s other shoulder.  Luigi hugged the Toad gently, like a small child.  Gadd rolled out a blue sleeping bag for the recently-rescued retainer, and Luigi placed Brad into it, making sure to slide a pillow under the Toad’s head.  Brad was asleep the moment his head touched that pillow.

            When Luigi stepped away to empty the Poltergust, Gadd took notice of the limp in his mentee’s step.  He also took stock of the fresh bruises and lacerations covering the man in green.  Gadd’s heart dropped as he assessed Luigi’s condition.  If only he’d declined the invitation.  If only he’d been more assertive convincing Hellen to let him bring a less harmful ghost.  If Luigi failed in his mission, then his blood, along with Mario’s, Peach’s, and the Toad retainers’, would be on Gadd’s hands.  He honestly didn’t know if he could bear that cross.

            Luigi spoke quietly with the ghosts he’d captured so far, seemingly bearing no ill will over the way they’d impeded him.  That was a good sign.

            When he was finished, the young man walked—limped—over to Gadd.  His bruised face was soft and kind.  Blue eyes searched spectacle-concealed eyes, and Gadd thought that Luigi’s gaze was pushing beyond those glasses to glimpse the windows to his soul.

            As Luigi looked into Gadd’s eyes, tension left the scientist’s body.  The hurricane he’d dreaded was a tropical storm at worst.  There would be battering winds and driving rain, but the damage would be minimal and repaired with hard work.  Luigi’s trust in Gadd had lessened, but Gadd would do anything in his power to gain it back.  Look at what he was doing—he’d brought the Poltergust along, and he was guiding Luigi through this hotel of horrors.  He made a mistake, but he was now making up for it—and he would learn from it.

            At long glorious last, Luigi broke the silence and asked the question that would begin the healing.

            “Professor—can we talk?”

Chapter Text

            The first time their lips met, it was tentative.

            Luigi would never forget the feeling of Gooigi’s lips pressed to his, the texture soft and flexible and cool and warm.  The contact sent tingles through his body, his own mouth copying Gooigi’s movements.  Their bodies were pressed together, rising in sync at the moment of the kiss, and then falling, and Gooigi’s body was just as soft as his lips.  It was enough to nearly take Luigi’s breath away.

            The next thing Luigi remembered was the taste.  Gooigi gained boldness and deepened the kiss, and Luigi relaxed his muscles and parted his mouth.  His reward was a warm, gooey tongue gently probing inside, and Luigi’s tongue started exploring Gooigi’s mouth in turn.  He tasted green apples, the kind of green apple flavor you’d find in a Jolly Rancher’s candy or green apple Jell-O, along with a slight hint of Lunoman Greenie coffee.  The pleasing flavors spread along Luigi’s tongue as it mingled with Gooigi’s, the two of them holding each other so close, kissing so passionately.

            Gooigi hummed slightly, his body thrumming as it moved against Luigi’s, feeling his companion’s racing heart.  They kissed again, and again and again and again, one hand cupping the other’s cheek and the other hand on the other’s waist, their perilous environment all but forgotten.  Maybe it was the stress of the situation.  Maybe it was the adrenaline from countless fights with ghosts.  But when these two ghost hunters looked at each other, sparks ignited.  Luigi wasn’t only fighting against ghosts but also against the familiar selfish urge to leave the people who barely acknowledged him to their fates.  He was fighting the fear, fighting the self-doubt, trudging through his personalized Hell with only a vacuum cleaner for protection.  He needed Gooigi, and Gooigi needed him.  During Luigi’s first two adventures, he’d been by himself, with his own nervous humming and the music on his Android phone to keep him company.  Now, when the stakes were at their highest, Luigi was no longer alone.

            It started off as simple touches, simple gestures, displays of affection and concern, the two of them saving each other from the ghosts out for their blood.  Then came the quiet moments, where Luigi poured out his soul, his guilt, his insecurities.  The two of them listening to music together and telling each other dirty jokes to stay sane.  The fight against the caveman ghost, Ug, who possessed a T-Rex skeleton and what that skeleton did to Gooigi.  Gooigi patching Luigi up, holding him to soothe his shaking, rubbing his back comfortingly after a harrowing battle.  Luigi saw Gooigi as a person and not a gooey clone, and they were all the other had in this cruel, dark place.  Gadd certainly wasn’t much help, sitting on his [bleep] in the basement, and he was the reason this was happening.  But with Gooigi, Luigi’s confidence received a much needed boost, as did his already-unshakable resolve.

            Here was the culmination, the two of them standing in the room in the wake of an intense brawl with some nasty ghosts, their lips sealed together in deep, all-consuming kisses, their tongues probing and tasting, holding each other like life preservers as Gooigi hummed softly and Luigi let himself fall headlong into the taste of green apple and coffee and the feeling of the soft goo.  Gooigi’s hands began to wander, and so did Luigi’s, his mind alive with images of his gooey doppelganger sprawled on a bed (this was a hotel, after all) and gasping with anticipation as he—

            Or maybe it would be him on the bed, divested of all his clothing and Gooigi on top of him and—

            His thoughts halted when he realized that he was now pressed against a wall, Gooigi pressed against him.  His overall straps were undone and dangling just above his boots, and his shirt was tossed aside.  The two of them were still holding each other, still kissing sweetly.  Only this time, Gooigi’s hands were all over Luigi’s bare torso, feeling along the smooth skin and tracing each muscle.  Fingers flicking across his nipples.  One kiss lingering before Gooigi’s lips detached from Luigi’s, leaving behind a thin rope of Goo.  Then, the two were staring at each other, catching their breath, and Luigi could swear he saw Gooigi blushing.  Then, Gooigi dipped his head and blotted his lips on Luigi’s bare upper body, leaving slow and wet kisses all over his chest, his abdomen, his stomach.

            It drove Luigi wild.

            There was no sound, save for the sound of blotting lips and heavy breaths and soft moans.  Gooigi lavished Luigi’s upper body with attention over and over and over, enthralled by the pink flush blooming across it.  His tongue flicked up, down, left and right in quick butterfly strokes before he resumed the open-mouthed kisses, the Goo composing him having long-since shifted to match Luigi’s state of undress.

            Luigi was in Heaven, and he didn’t want it to end.

            Before Gooigi could slide Luigi’s unbuckled overalls lower, his companion’s hands were suddenly over his, gently but firmly stopping him.  Luigi was gasping, his pupils dilated, his lips slightly parted, a thin film of sweat on his skin.

            “Are you okay?” asked Gooigi.  “Did I hurt you?”

            Luigi shook his head.

            Gooigi straightened.  “What’s wrong?  Please, talk to me.”

            “I—we can’t,” Luigi said breathily.  “You’re like my brother.  This just feels—weird.”

            “It does,” agreed Gooigi, “but when I look at you, I don’t feel like a tool anymore.”

            “You’re not a tool, Gooigi.  You’re a friend.  You’re my friend.  And you’re my family.  Which is why…?”

            “I understand,” said Gooigi.

            “And Daisy—my Flower Princess,” Luigi went on.  “I can’t do something like this to her.”

            “Luigi…”

            “Yeah?”

            “Technically, it’s not cheating.”

            Luigi smiled slightly.  “Good luck telling Daisy that,” he chuckled.

            “Maybe—the two of us—can explain it to her?” offered Gooigi.

            Luigi contemplated the thought.  “Maybe,” he echoed.

            “I like how you make me feel, Luigi.”

            “And I like how you make me feel, Gooigi.”

            The duo shared another tender kiss, and then Luigi retrieved his shirt and smoothly slipped it back over his head, refastening his overalls.  “I really needed that,” he said.

            “So did I,” said Gooigi.

            Luigi smiled determinedly, newfound rigor coursing through his veins.  “Shall we continue?” he asked.

            Gooigi replied by slipping his hand into Luigi’s.

            It was the two of them against the ghosts, and the ghosts were gonna lose.

Chapter Text

            When Thad was freed from his artistic prison, he was a bit disoriented.  He had no sense of time or location, and he was on the verge of panic because he didn’t know where Brad or Chad were.  However, all of that changed when he heard Luigi’s voice.

            “Thad—are you okay?”

            Thad’s head swung about so that he was looking into Luigi’s caring and concerned face.  He realized that he was in Luigi’s arms.  It was warm there.  It was safe there.

            “I am now, Luigi.  I am now,” Thad replied, clasping his arms around his rescuer.

            Luigi lowered himself to a seated position, Thad settling into his lap and leaning into him.

            “Chad—Brad—Peach…” whispered Thad.

            “It’s okay.  I’ll find them,” Luigi whispered back, rubbing circles into Thad’s back.  “I promise.”

            “I believe you,” said Thad.  “I told the others over and over that you’ll come through for us.”

            “Are you sure you’re all right?” asked Luigi.

            “Yeah.  I’m fine.”

            Luigi tucked Thad’s head into the crook of his neck.  “Thank God,” he said.

            “I’m totally giving this place one star,” said Thad.

            “And I’m giving it zero stars,” Luigi told him.

            “How about you?” asked Thad.  “Are you okay?”

            “I’m as okay as I’ll ever be,” replied Luigi.

            “That piano ghost—Wolfgeist—wasn’t holding back,” said Thad.

            “Well, neither was I,” retorted Luigi.

            “He nearly smashed a piano on you, and he threw flaming musical notes at you…”

            “Let’s not talk about Wolfgeist anymore, okay?” Luigi broke in.  There was heat in his voice, heat directed at the ghostly pianist who’d stood between him and Thad.  Wolfgeist had even dismissed Thad as “a mushroom-head in a portrait”.  Luigi had tried to negotiate with the pianist ghost, and the latter had even allowed him to sit at the bench and play the piano he’d eventually weaponize.  But the two had ultimately come to blows, Luigi giving the fight his all and harshly slamming Wolfgeist about.  It was an unnerving battle, but all Luigi was thinking about was Thad, and in that moment, he hated Wolfgeist.

            The ghostly pianist was now in the Poltergust, and yet Luigi hated him all the same.  Hate was a strong emotion the man in green tried not to associate with, but if anyone trapped, threatened or harmed someone he cared about—

            “I saw you on that wall behind him, and I asked him nicely if I could just grab you and be out of his hair.  He told me that he didn’t want a fight—and neither did I, quite frankly.  But if I have to fight, then I will.”

            “That’s why I like you, Luigi,” smiled Thad.

            “Professor Gadd fell into the trap, as well,” said Luigi, “and he’s set up a Lab in the basement.  I’d better get you down there.”

            “I wanna help you,” protested Thad.

            “I know you do, but I can’t risk you getting hurt.  Things are only gonna get more perilous.”

            Thad knew that Luigi was right, and he hated it.  He hated being helpless, watching from the sidelines as Luigi confronted certain death.  But he had faith in Luigi, and he knew that he was doing this to keep him safe.  “All right, then.  I’ll wait in the Lab.  But first, I have to—well, you know.”

            Luigi smiled.  “Me, too.”

            Following a quick stop in the men’s room, Luigi took Thad’s hand, and they walked to the elevator together as Polterpup and Gooigi brought up the rear.

            Inside the elevator, as the car descended toward the basement, Luigi sat down, Thad once again nestled in his lap.  Comfort and tiredness settled over the Toad retainer, and he didn’t even try to fight it.

            “I got you, Thad,” he heard Luigi whisper to him, his voice backed up by a still-brisk heartbeat.  “I got you.”

            Thad smiled from ear-to-ear, and then slumber claimed him.

            Ungracefully, Brad toppled out of his painting and rolled a short distance on the cold, linoleum floor.  His thoughts were a mad, surreal whirl.  Something was in his hand, and he didn’t know which way was up.  His head swam.  He kept his eyes firmly closed, as the light pained him.

            By and by, he grew conscious of someone kneeling over him, gathering him in gentle arms and placing him onto something soft.  A slightly shaky voice, speaking to him.  Someone breathing raggedly.  A hand on his mushroom cap, a thumb stroking his cheek.  What sounded like a drumbeat in his ears.  No—a heartbeat.

            That meant—

            Yes.  He was curled up in someone’s lap, someone who was trying to comfort him, someone who was telling him that he was okay and that he was safe.  It was a voice he recognized, and it was a touch he recognized.

            “Brad, look at me.  Look at me.”

            Brad tried to open his eyes, but the light was too bright.

            “Breathe—breathe—easy.  You’re okay.  I’m not gonna let anyone else hurt you.”

            Brad slowed his breathing and rolled the object he was holding in his fingers.

            “I promise I won’t push you.  If it’s too, bright, maybe I can…”  Brad was lifted and carried to another part of the room, where the glare across his eyelids was less intrusive.  The person exhaled deeply and held Brad tenderly, like a child who’d awoken from a nightmare.  Brad could smell aftershave, cologne and a small hint of sweat and—was that blood he also smelled?  He also smelled hair conditioner, and it was lovely and familiar.

            “Okay.  Whenever you’re ready, open your eyes.  Open your eyes, and look at me.  Please…”

            Gradually, Brad allowed his eyes to blink open, and he stifled a joyous cry at the sight before him.  Luigi’s face, his expressive blue eyes, the forehead and cheeks sweaty and pink.  But there was also bruising, one eye swelling up, and blood seeped from various lacerations.  However, the injuries didn’t seem to bother Luigi as he held Brad in his arms, in his lap, against his chest.  His breathing was starting to steady, and Brad heard and felt his heart rate drop towards a normal level.

            “Hey, Brad,” greeted Luigi.  “You got something for me?”

            His eyes moved toward the object in Brad’s hand, and the Toad studied it.  It was as bright as a fluorescent lightbulb, and it had “B2” stamped on it in dark letters.

            “This?” asked Brad, holding it out to Luigi.

            Luigi nodded, and Brad dropped the object into his rescuer’s palm.  The man in green kissed the object before pocketing it.

            “What is that?” asked Brad.  “It looks like a button.”

            “It’s an elevator button,” said Luigi, “and I need to find all of them to explore this entire hotel.”

            Luigi smiled.  God, that smile.  It was the warmest smile in the history of smiles.  He smiled at Brad, and he held him, he talked to him, he calmed him.

            “Thank God for you, Luigi,” said Brad.  “That’s all I can say.”

            “Ug—he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

            “No, but he hurt you.”

            “Most of the ghosts I’ve met hurt me, with one exception so far,” said Luigi.  “It doesn’t matter how much I get hurt.  All that matters to me—is that none of you get hurt.”

            Brad smiled and slid his arms around Luigi’s neck.  Refreshing sleep was calling to him, and there was no reason to ignore it.

            “I rescued Thad earlier,” Luigi murmured.  “He’s waiting it out with the Professor on the basement floor, and he’ll be happy to see you.  Wanna head over there?”

            “Yes.”

            Luigi stood, hoisted Brad onto his hip and walked out of the museum’s exhibit hall without looking back.

            Inside the elevator, Luigi and Brad listened to music together, basking in the calm silence.  Brad felt the man in green plant a kiss on the top of his head, causing him to relax further.  His lids grew heavy, and he faintly remembered him muttering a greeting to Thad before he was situated inside a sleeping bag, his head on a lovely pillow, and then Luigi was holding his hand and bidding him good night and saying something else he could hardly remember.

            And then there was the sweet surrender of sleep.

            When Chad was released from his painting, he wound of on a brief ride, sliding down the top of a cannon, flying up in the air—and then landing in Luigi’s waiting arms.

            Chad whooped in victory, his arms hooked around Luigi’s neck.  Luigi laughed in response, holding him close.

            “Right on time, Luigi!” exclaimed Chad.  “A few minutes ago wouldn’t have been so bad, but still.”

            “Nothing would’ve stopped me from coming,” said Luigi.

            “I know,” said Chad.

            He allowed his body to recline against his rescuer’s chest, listening to Luigi’s heartbeat drumming in his ears.  Luigi’s chin rested against the top of Chad’s head, and he just held him and held him, speaking to him in soft, comforting tones.

            “Just breathe and relax, Chad.  You’re safe now.  Everything is all right.”

            Chad hummed in response.

            “Brad and Thad are waiting for you in the basement with Professor Gadd,” Luigi went on.  “I’m gonna bring you down there, okay?”

            “Okay.”

            Chad grew aware of something warm and sticky as he snuggled against Luigi, and he smelled something kinda—coppery and sweet.  But he didn’t complain.  Now that Luigi was here, he didn’t have to be afraid.  He didn’t have to fret over what was ahead.

            “Let’s abandon ship, shall we?” Luigi asked brightly.

            “I was just gonna say that,” said Chad.

            The Toad retainer clamored onto Luigi’s back as the latter descended a rope ladder, and he continued to ride piggyback on the green-capped ghost hunter until they reached the elevator.

            Along the way, some green substance in a tank vibrated, Luigi’s voice becoming low and urgent as he directed Chad to get behind him.  A Boo surprised the pair, but Luigi handily dealt with them with surprising ferocity, grabbing the Boo by their tongue and rapidly mashing them into the floor until their health was depleted.  It was extremely cathartic to watch.

            Luigi and Chad were inside the elevator, the former inserting the newest elevator button and then pressing the “B1” button before sitting against the wall and leaning his head back, Chad seated in his lap.

            “Wanna listen to some music with me?” asked Luigi.

            “Sure,” replied Chad.

            Suddenly, Chad glanced down, noticing that his jerkin and his skin was smeared with blood.  His eyes widened, and then he swiveled around to study Luigi.

            “My God!  Those ghosts—look what they’ve done to you!” he cried.

            Luigi, however, appeared uncaring of the slashes scoring his upper body, shoulders, arms and upper thighs.  “It’s worth the wounds,” he said, searching for a suitable music playlist on his phone.  “I made a promise, and I can’t break it.  I won’t.”

            “You’re going through so much for us,” sighed Chad.  “Why?  What have we done to deserve this?”

            “You’re my family,” Luigi responded, “and I’ll live and die for you.”

            Chad sighed.  “Oh, Luigi,” he said.

            Smiling, Luigi put one earbud into his ear and gave Chad the other, and the two of them spent the rest of the elevator ride listening to music.  The downtempo tunes, combined with Luigi’s warmth, his steady heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in and out, served to send Chad off to dreamland.

            But before he dropped off, he heard Luigi whisper to him, “I love you.”

Chapter Text

December 2020

            The lobby of the rebuilt hotel was nicely decorated for Christmas.  A tall fake Christmas tree was the centerpiece, decorated with a gold garland and numerous ornaments.  At the base of the tree, a large, white cloth was spread, and on that cloth rested dozens of boxed gifts wrapped in bright red, green and gold wrapping paper and tied with silk ribbons.  Bows, wreaths and candy canes decorated the rest of the hotel, with the staff offering free cookies, cocoa and cider to guests checking in.  Christmas music played over the hotel’s sound system, and everyone was dressed in loud yet comfortable sweaters or holiday-themed dresses.

            Steward sat at the front desk, humming along to the Christmas tunes, only to look up when the door opened.  Striding in were six familiar guests, bundled up in coats and scarves and toting suitcases of varying lengths.  There was Luigi, with whom Steward had briefly wound up on bad terms, what with him being complicit in a kidnapping scheme and all.  There was Mario, his big bro, Peach, his “sister” and the three Toads, Thad, Brad and Chad.  The ghostly bellhop quickly rose to greet them.

            “Welcome back!” he said heartily.  “Merry Christmas!”

            “Merry Christmas to you, too,” replied Luigi.

            “Let me pull up your information and—here we are,” said Steward.  “You’re staying through the beginning of next year.  And—you’re using the credit card we have on file?”

            “Nope,” Peach spoke up.  “This one’s on me.”

            The menfolk stepped back so that Peach could complete her transaction.

            “I’ll take your luggage to your rooms, shall I?” asked Steward when the transaction was complete.

            “Thank you,” said Luigi.  “Is the Professor in?”

            “Yes, he is.  You can find him in the lab,” replied Steward.  “He’s looking forward to seeing you.”

            “Please, be careful with our luggage,” said Luigi.  “We have gifts in there.”

            “Don’t worry,” Steward told him.  “Your gifts are in good hands.”

            Steward and some other bellhop ghosts loaded the guests’ luggage onto luggage racks and wheeled them toward the elevator.

            Luigi and company, however, opted to take the stairwell to the basement, where Gadd’s lab was situated.

            The scientist was waiting for them when they arrived, wearing a big smile.

            “Merry Christmas, youngsters!” said Gadd.  “How was the trip?”

            “Uneventful, save for a bit of snow on the way up,” replied Luigi.  “Merry Christmas, Professor.  How’ve you been?”

            “I’ve been better, thank you.”

            Gadd extended his hand, which Luigi shook with his trademark firmness.  The two men exchanged warm smiles, and then Gadd let the quintet inside his lab, which was also decorated for the holidays.

            “I made some croissant sandwiches earlier,” said the Professor as he selected a holiday playlist on his Spotify, “and I have enough drinks to go around.”

            “Thanks, Professor,” said Luigi.

            “I have something for each of you,” said Gadd.

            “And we each brought something for you,” said Luigi.  “We decided to drop by first before getting situated in our rooms.”

            “How about you?  How’ve you been?” Gadd wanted to know.

            “I’m taking it one day at a time,” Luigi told him.  “I’m seeing my therapist, spending time with friends and loved ones and remembering to breathe.”

            “We’re doing okay, as well,” Peach spoke up.  “It helps that I’ve had a lot to do lately.”

            Gooigi walked in, a big smile splitting his gooey features.  “Hey, you guys!” he greeted.

            “Hey, Gooigi,” said Luigi.  “Merry Christmas!”

            “Merry Christmas to you, too,” said Gooigi.

            He opened his arms, and Luigi moved into them.

            “It’s so good to see you again,” sighed Gooigi.

            “Ditto,” said Luigi.

            Peach, Mario and the Toads also said hello to Gooigi, and then Gadd poured glasses of eggnog for everyone.

            “How long are you staying?” asked Gadd.

            “Through New Year’s,” replied Luigi.  “We’ll leave on January 3.”

            “Awesome,” said Gadd.  “I’ll order some hors d’eurves so we can have a New Year’s Eve party.”

            “And we can watch the ball drop!” Brad chimed in.

            “And then we’ll toast with champagne and get drunk together!” laughed Chad.

            “But not too drunk,” said Peach.

            After they drank their eggnog, Luigi turned to Gadd.  “We’d better start getting unpacked,” he said.  “We’ll be back later tonight, though.”

            “I’m looking forward to it,” beamed Gadd.

            The quintet filed out of the lab, Luigi stealing a sweet kiss with Gooigi before taking his own leave.

            It didn’t take long for everyone to get settled in, arranging their toiletries in the bathroom before hanging up the clothes they’d packed.  On Luigi’s part, he lovingly examined the Poltergust he’d brought with him, just in case, leaning it against his bedside.

            Once everything was situated, Luigi stripped off his clothes and took a nice, relaxing bath before shampooing his hair, rising everything off, drying himself and then pulling on a pair of briefs.  He’d nap for a little while, and then he and the others would rejoin the Professor to exchange gifts and celebrate the most wonderful time of the year.

            He climbed into the bed, turned on the TV, put on a boring news channel and then snuggled under the covers, feeling Polterpup cuddle up beside him.  It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

            Luckily, no screams rudely jolted him awake.

            Later that night, Luigi and co rejoined Gadd in his lab.  The man in green had the Poltergust comfortably strapped to his back and many Christmas presents in his pockets.  His companions were similarly armed with presents, with Thad, Brad and Chad having to carry theirs in a bag.  Once again, Gadd met them at the door, and the sextet stepped inside to find that the Professor had company.

            Steward was seated in the lab’s lounge area, along with Brea, one of the maid ghosts.  Also present were Kruller, the security guard, Soulffle, the head chef, Wolfgeist, the pianist and composer, MacFrights, the ghostly king, Dr. Lionel Potter, the botanist, Chase “Morty” Mortimer, the film director, Ug, the caveman, Clem, the mechanic, Serpci, the pharaoh queen, Nikki, Lindsey and Ginny, the magician sisters, Cap’n Fishhook, the ghostly pirate shark, Johnny Deepend, the swimming instructor and Gloria, the DJ.  All of them bore gifts and huge smiles.

            “Merry Christmas!” they all cried in unison.

            “Thanks,” said Luigi.  “It’s so good to see you!”

            “It’s great to see you, too,” said Gloria.  “Somehow, we all knew you were gonna turn up.”

            “I brought each of you a little something,” said Luigi.

            “And so did we,” said Brea.

            Luigi set all of his gifts on a nearby table, causing everyone’s eyes to goggle.

            Before the gift exchange, however, everyone helped themselves to the croissant sandwiches Gadd had mentioned earlier.  To wash them down was plenty of sparkling grape juice or soda.

            “Hey, L—what’s with the vacuum?” asked Ginny.

            “It’s only a precaution,” Luigi replied.  “I’d rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it.”

            “True,” said Gadd, knowing exactly why Luigi was wearing the Poltergust but choosing not to spoil the festive mood by bringing it up.

            “However—we came here to spread some holiday cheer, not rehash the past,” said Luigi, walking over to the table and picking up one of the gifts.  “Professor, this is for you.”

            Gadd unwrapped the present—a large mug with a photo of him and Luigi on it.

            “It’s beautiful!” he cried.  “Thanks, Luigi.”

            “You’re welcome,” said Luigi.

            “And here’s a little something from me to you,” Gadd went on, giving a parcel to Luigi.

            Luigi unwrapped the parcel and smiled when he saw what was inside—a book filled with quotes about courage, commitment and devotion.

            “I want you to read that book whenever your confidence takes a hit,” said Gadd.

            “Professor, this was very thoughtful of you,” said Luigi.  “I’ll keep this book on my beside table.”

            His smile remained as he gave the rest of his gifts.  A charm bracelet for Peach.  A hand-written card and some new formal wear for Mario.  An mp3 player for each of the Toads.  A magician’s “survival kit” for Nikki, Lindsey and Ginny.  A boxed set containing episodes from an old TV show for Brea.  Some music CDs for Steward.  And so on.

            The recipients gave generously in turn.  For example, Serpci gifted him with some essential oils.  Dr. Potter gave him a DVD of Little Shop of Horrors.  Wolfgeist gave a booklet of popular songs to play on the piano.  But as always, Mario gave the best gift.  This year, it was a lava lamp.

            When the lab’s occupants weren’t exchanging gifts, then they were exchanging stories and jokes and enjoying each other’s company.  There was nobody being attacked, trapped or terrorized.  Nobody even bothered talking about him or what he had done, because he wasn’t about to spoil this holiday.

            This Christmas marked the happiest Luigi had been since last year’s incident.  Most of the physical wounds had healed, and the emotional wounds were beginning to heal.  Luigi felt positively warm inside, surrounded by the six people he’d managed to save from a fate worse than death and the fifteen people he’d learned to trust after encountering them as enemies.  Maybe the incident that started it all was a blessing in disguise.  Maybe he was destined for this life.  Maybe there were more adventures like this ahead of him.

            Maybe.

            But he’d dwell on that later.

            Tonight was about relishing the most magical time of the year.

Chapter Text

October 2019

            There was just something about Polterpup.

            Something that made him so—cuddle-worthy.

            When Luigi gathered his ghost puppy into his arms and buried his face into his “fur” after a death-defying victory over a ghost, reassurance seemed to emanate from the doggie’s body.  And so, Luigi would either kneel or sit on the floor, Polterpup in a soft embrace, eyes closed, breathing in Polterpup’s scent.

            Immediately after a tough boss fight, Polterpup would race to Luigi’s side.  He’d cautiously nuzzle him.  His pupil-less eyes would be wide with concern, and he’d whine softly.  Luigi would respond with a hand splayed flat on Polterpup’s back, a silent signal that he was at least still alive, and then he’d either hug his doggie, or Polterpup would take initiative and jump into his human’s lap.  Either way, Luigi would hold the pup and pet him, and Polterpup would whine again as he noticed Luigi shaking a little, but gradually, the young man’s shaking would cease and his breathing would steady, and then Polterpup would give little licks and doggie kisses which calmed Luigi further.

            And Luigi would talk to Polterpup, thank him, tell him that he loved him and maybe even feed him one of those gold bones.  The two would rub noses.  And then Luigi would get to his feet, raise his chin up confidently, square his shoulders and stubbornly march toward the elevator, where another terror-filled floor awaited.

            But Polterpup also acted as Luigi’s conscience.  He’d gently railroad him into making a stop in Gadd’s lab, maybe grabbing something to eat and having his recent injuries looked at.  He’d help Gadd and Gooigi convince him to rest, if only for an hour or so.  And he’d do what he can to alleviate that tension persistently clinging to the man in green.

            No injuries, fears, or self-doubts would stop Luigi, that was for sure.  Nonetheless, the traps and ghosts and mocking phone calls took a Hell of a lot out of him.  He needed Polterpup by his side, needed his cheerfulness and soft “fur” and doggie kisses.  He needed to set aside a brief window to give Polterpup some attention—cuddles, belly rubs, kisses, whispers—to sift his gloved fingers through the puppy’s fur so he could maintain his composure and his sanity.  And Polterpup would woof and lick Luigi’s cheek, letting him know that he was there for him, no matter what.  If Luigi needed a brief cry, then Polterpup was there.  Gooigi could give good pep talks, sure, but he wasn’t someone to provide a shoulder to cry on, as water made him melt.  Luckily, Polterpup didn’t have that problem.

            Every hour of that long night, Luigi thanked God he found Polterpup.  He thanked God for the “soft” fur, the happy woofs, the playful tackles and the licks to his cheeks and the way they’d rub noses together.  He thanked God for the feeling of his sweet little doggie in his arms, whining and nuzzling him as he silently cried and willed himself to stop trembling.  He thanked God for the therapeutic cuddling sessions they shared.  He thanked God—because he honestly didn’t know if he could’ve faced a third adventure like this alone.

            If not for Polterpup and his cuddles, then Luigi would’ve broken entirely.

Chapter Text

            Gooigi lay on the bed, gasping heavily, pillowing his head on Luigi’s chest and gazing up into his blue eyes.

            Luigi was also breathing heavily, his skin flushed and sticky with sweat.  Both he and Gooigi were nude, save for the socks remaining on their feet.  The bed they currently lay on was Hellen’s by the way, as they were in the Master Bedroom of her personal penthouse suite.  Not that they cared.

            “Oh, Dio,” Luigi finally said.  “Oh, wow.  That felt great.  That felt so good…”

            “Ditto,” said Gooigi, trailing a pointer finger along Luigi’s belly.  “You made me feel good.  And for that, I truly thank you.”

            “I think I always knew,” said Luigi, “all this time, how much you truly meant to me.  But then this happened, with King Boo and Hellen.  Whenever I needed you, you were there for me.  You’ve let me know that I don’t have to wander through the darkness alone.”

            “I won’t let you,” promised Gooigi.  “I’ll always have your back.”

            Luigi’s fingers sifted through Gooigi’s “hair”.  “I can’t find the words to describe how blessed you’ve made me feel,” he whispered.  “We’ve shared so much together.”

            “We have, haven’t we?” mused Gooigi.

            “Ever since we met, I knew that you were more than just ectoplasm made to look like me,” Luigi went on.  “You’re smart.  You’re loyal.  You’re adventurous.  And you’re the yin to my yang.  We really complement each other.”

            “I was just gonna say that,” said Gooigi.

            “Thank you, Gooigi,” said Luigi.  “I wouldn’t have made it this far if it weren’t for you.”

            “We’re not out of it yet, though,” cautioned Gooigi.  “But—you’re welcome.”

            He rolled atop Luigi, the two of them blotting their lips together in fiery kisses, tongues mingling, hands fluttering.  Gooigi had memorized all of the areas which made Luigi tick, and Luigi had done the same for Gooigi.  The passion they felt was real, not some spur-of-the-moment, adrenaline-induced passion.  It had slowly built and built during this adventure, manifesting in the form of concern, protectiveness and moments of quiet confiding.  And on the last floor of the hotel, their passion had reached its inevitable conclusion.  Gooigi had not only felt these wonderful feelings for the first time, but he’d also given these feelings to someone he wholly trusted.

            No one ever forgot their first time, and Gooigi was no exception.  He’d remember every kiss, every touch, every moan, every blush, every sensation.  He’d remember the euphoria and the rush, and he’d remember the calm holding afterward, basking in the softness of Hellen’s bed and gazing into each other’s eyes.

            Round two was as deeply intense of an experience, maybe even more intense.  Gooigi pushed his boundaries to the absolute brink, and he invited Luigi to do likewise.  It was more than magic and euphoria.  It was—ecstasy.  It was—Heaven.

            Now, the two sated ghost hunters locked eyes, wrapped in a tender embrace, slowly calming down.

            “Gooigi—you are—amazing,” said Luigi.

            “And so are you,” smiled Gooigi.  “You made me feel so much better.”

            “Same here,” Luigi told him.  “I’m not as stressed or as fearful anymore.”

            “But the biggest fight is still ahead of us,” cautioned Gooigi.

            “Yes, it is,” said Luigi, “but we’ll win it.  Together.”

            His confidence touched Gooigi’s heart.  However, there was just one thing bothering him.

            “What if we lose?”

            “If we lose, then we’ll do that together, too,” said Luigi, “and we’ll show the world that we at least didn’t give up.  But win or lose…”

            He leaned in and kissed Gooigi, softly and sweetly.

            “…I’m with you to the end of the line.”

Chapter Text

            Like all fathers, Elvin Gadd was proud of his “adopted” children.

            He was proud of Henry for being a model, punctual student, taking notes, acing his tests, engaging in discussions and remaining in touch long after he’d graduated.

            He was proud of Eliza for defying the sexism of the 1960s and her own shyness to become an adventurer in her own right, and for eventually finding happiness with Richard.  And he was proud of their Eliza and Richard’s daughter, Shayna, for finding her calling as a psychiatrist and helping people heal from various traumatic experiences.

            Gadd was proud of all of his children, but most of all, he was proud of Luigi.

            He was proud of Luigi for refusing to be characterized by his fears.  He was proud of Luigi for remaining humbled and acknowledging that wearing the Poltergust didn’t make him invincible.  He was proud of Luigi for putting his family first and enduring so much for his brother.  He was proud of Luigi for standing up to King Boo.

            Also, he was proud of Luigi for being slow to anger and graceful under pressure.

            It was Gadd’s own actions which had led to the Dark Moon shattering in 2013 and the horror of the Last Resort in 2019.  During the former, Gadd had been stressed and distracted, and during the latter, the promise of exposure had beckoned, overpowering his caution.  But despite the fact that he’d put Luigi and his loved ones in danger, Luigi didn’t hate him—at least, as far as he knew.  The youngster’s trust in him had been diminished, but at least he didn’t completely shut Gadd out.  He’d demonstrated willingness to make things work, and for that Gadd was very proud of Luigi.

            More than anything, Gadd was proud of Luigi for being so darn reliable.

            In 2013, Gadd didn’t just call Luigi because he was the only ghost-wrangler he knew.  He called him because of his reliability and his persistence when it came to helping people.  When Luigi was retrieving the Dark Moon pieces and solving a host of other problems, he was fighting ghosts before Mario wound up in King Boo’s crosshairs.  He held his own against a grand total of five possessors, plus hordes of enhanced ghosts, before taking on King Boo in an alien dimension.  And as the situation climaxed, Gadd made sure to tell Luigi that he was proud of him before sending him toward almost-certain death.

            Six years later, Gadd found himself hiding behind some suitcases, watching the showdown between Luigi and Steward.  The swiftness with which Luigi had taken charge, the calm in his voice as he’d directed Gadd to find a hiding spot and told Steward that under no uncertain terms would he allow the ghostly bellhop within one yard of his mentor and the way he shook off being hit with suitcases made Gadd start to think.  He thought about how he’d dragged Luigi out of bed to deal with a problem he helped start, how he’d occasionally teased him or laughed at his expense and how he’d sat on his [bleep] in a lab or in a bunker while Luigi almost died several times over.  For a moment, he wondered if he truly deserved being under Luigi’s protection.  Ghosts still unnerved the young man, and he was expecting a relaxing vacation, but here he was, a new Poltergust on his back, in a heated fight with Steward, for his friends’ sake.  This was the point where Gadd realized just how truly strong Luigi was.

            That’s it, Gadd internally vowed.  I’m not taking Luigi for granted anymore.  I’m gonna start treating him with more of the respect he deserves.

            He watched the rest of the throwdown in silence, praying that Luigi would never find out about his latest blunder.

            Inevitably, Luigi did find out.  Rather, he figured it out.  He was far from stupid.  However, he handled it with enviable maturity, taking Gadd aside and discussing the repercussions of the scientist’s impulsive decision without even raising his voice.  The two of them had a good, long talk about it, saying what needed to be said and Gadd making the apologies he needed to make.  When Luigi resumed his mission with a determined stride, he left things ambiguous between them, but Gadd had felt a great weight lifting itself from his shoulders, knowing that despite the hit Luigi’s trust in him had taken, he’d still be there for his mentor.

            Gadd was able to have one last quiet moment with Luigi before the final push, before the man in green set out to explore the final floor and take on the two masterminds behind this mess.  Luigi had managed to capture all of the Boos roaming the hotel, and he’d wisely chosen to deposit them in Gadd’s vault.  Gadd persuaded Luigi to indulge in a light meal before arguably the two most important battles of his life.  While he ate, he talked with Gadd for a while, taking the opportunity to get everything off his chest in case he didn’t make it out.

            “My bro and my sis are waiting for me,” he murmured.

            “I know you’ll bring them back safely,” said Gadd.

            Luigi drew a long breath.  “Promise me something, Professore,” he said.

            “What’s that?”

            “When I head out, I’m not coming back until Hellen and King Boo are defeated, and Peach and Mario are safe,” said Luigi, “but if things go wrong, then don’t come back for me.”

            Gadd’s eyes flew open.  “What…?”

            “Don’t.  Come.  Back.  For.  Me.”

            “Luigi, my boy—if you die, then I’ll feel like that’s on me.  I don’t need that on my conscience.”

            At that point, Luigi hugged him.

            “You’ve been such a good father figure to me, and a good mentor,” whispered Luigi, “and for all of those times you put me in frightening and perilous situations or had a laugh at my expense—I forgive you.”

            The reassurance made Gadd feel better, if only a little..

            “Thank you,” Luigi went on.  “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.  Thank you for getting me through King Boo’s madness.  You made mistakes, but you’ve done your best to rectify them.”

            “And I’ll continue to do my best to make it right,” vowed Gadd.

            “It’s okay,” said Luigi, clasping Gadd’s hand.  “It’s okay.  You’re human, and so am I.  And when all of this is over, we’ll sit and talk about where we’ll go from here.”

            “Luigi, I just want you to know how proud I am of you,” said Gadd, his voice a little warbly.  “You’ve come a long way from the frightened soul I rescued in Boo Woods.”

            Reluctantly, the two separated.

            “I believe in you,” said Gadd.

            “And I appreciate it,” said Luigi.

            “Go get ’em, youngster,” said Gadd.

            Luigi squared his shoulders.  “Whatever it takes,” he said.

            “Whatever it takes,” echoed Gadd.

            The scientist’s chest swelled with the same pride a father could feel watching his child walking across the stage to receive their high-school, and later college, diploma.  His eyes misted as he watched his “adopted” son spin on his heel and step out of the lab’s safe confines.  The sight of Luigi’s retreating form took Gadd’s breath away.

            Gooigi broke the moment by purchasing some items from the shop.  And then he, too, was gone, joined by Polterpup.

            Slowly, Gadd lowered himself onto his swivel chair and faced the three Toad retainers who were waiting it out with him.

            “Shall we pray?” he asked.

            And so they did.

Chapter Text

How many times have you given me strength to just keep breathing?

—Plumb, “Need You Now”

            Luigi placed a hand over his pounding heart, taking several deep breaths.  Thanks to Polterpup, he’d escaped a fate worse than death.  However, expressing his thanks to his puppy would have to wait.  Above him loomed the 18-year bane of his existence, triumphantly holding up the portrait frame containing the six people who cared the most about him in this world.

            The triumph on King Boo’s face faded to disbelief and frustration when he saw that one important person was missing from his ensemble portrait.  Leering at Luigi, he demanded, “What the Hell are you doing over there?!”

            “Looks like the Fates favor me tonight,” Luigi replied, allowing a laugh to bubble from his throat.

            The King’s purple eyes blazed.  “God—mit!” he screamed.  “I am sick to double death of you!”

            “Oh, yeah?  Well, I’m sick to triple death of you!” Luigi shot back.

            “You wanna fight me?  All right, then!” bellowed King Boo.  “This is the end for you, Luigi—once and for all!  Here I come!  You’ll see no mercy from the King!”

            “That’s why I brought this!” hollered Luigi, brandishing the Poltergust.

            With Gooigi and Polterpup by his side, the man in green engaged the King of all Boos.  It was an all-out, brutal battle, the King attacking with electricity, lashing out with his tongue and slamming himself against the rooftop to flatten Luigi.  But while Luigi did take some spectacular hits, he walked it off, shrugged off the pain and kept going, waiting for his foe to slip up.  And slip up he did, when he threw the spiked balls which broke open when they hit the roof, revealing bombs which he and Gooigi shot into the King’s mouth.

            King Boo swelled up like a balloon and crashed onto the rooftop.  Gooigi and Luigi ran over, suctioned his tongue into their vacuums and mercilessly slammed the sadistic ghost all over the roof, grunting with the effort.  Swearing, King Boo tore himself free and split himself into two, wasting no time going on the attack.

            “The real King has four fangs,” Luigi said to Gooigi, his voice low, breathy and urgent.  “The clone only has two.  When he summons those bombs again, aim at the King with four fangs.”

            “Four fangs—got it!” cried Gooigi.

            This time, it was a pair of long tongues clobbering Luigi and Gooigi and a pair of bodies trying to slam down on them.  The attacks were far more painful and more intense, accompanied by large fireballs and greater multitudes of lightning strikes.  It took every last technique in Luigi’s arsenal to at least stay alive.

            But in spite of the pain and in spite of the consecutive attacks, Luigi soldiered on.  The faces of his brother, “sister”, mentor and the Toads were pasted in his mind.  He could see them in the distance, helpless in that portrait frame.  They were counting on him.  He wouldn’t let them down.  He was gonna get them back.  He was gonna get them back.

            King Boo slipped up again, throwing out more spiked balls containing bombs.  The first chance he got, Luigi grabbed a bomb, and Gooigi grabbed another, the two of them aiming carefully at the four-fanged Boo before letting their bombs fly.

            Luigi shouted a battle cry as he ran forward and vacuumed up King Boo’s tongue.  Gooigi followed suit, and the pair initiated another round of rough slamming.  The man in green dedicated a slam to each of the six people whose fates now rested in his hands.  Do it for them, he mentally repeated.  Do it for them.

            Again, the King broke free, snarling at his opponents.  “I have had enough of your [bleep]!” he screamed.

            “And I’ve had enough of yours,” snapped Luigi.

            While the King raged and raved, Luigi’s voice remained near a normal speaking volume, his cold, calm anger contrasting with King Boo’s blazing ire.

            Whirling on the ensemble portrait, King Boo fired a bolt of magic at it, causing it to grow and grow until it was practically stretched across the sky.  The earth tremored slightly, trees began to uproot and all sorts of stuff began flying into the rainbow miasma that was the enlarged frame.  Adding to this nightmarish scenario was a dull droning sound, the King laughing maniacally as he drew a rapier and split himself into three.

            “In all my years of violence, conquest, amassing my fine art collection—it was never personal,” hissed the King.  “But let me tell you right now—what I’m about to do to you, to everyone you’ve ever loved and to every last pathetic creature on this f—ing planet, I’m gonna enjoy it.  Very, very much.”

            Luigi felt Gooigi’s hand slip into his, along with Polterpup nuzzling against his leg, giving him the strength he needed to continue on.  Faintly, he heard the voices of his six friends, cheering him on.  Surges of pure, pounding adrenaline flooded him as he stood straight and tall, leveling the Poltergust at King Boo.

            “Not if I can help it,” he quietly vowed.

            As the portrait frame descended upon the Last Resort and the world, Luigi and King Boo had their last dance.  The psychotic king and his two clones slashed and stabbed with their rapiers, zapped the entire rooftop with electricity and fired off projectiles in threes.  Also, they summoned ghosts to aid in their attacks.  In spite of all this, Luigi was unstoppable.  He could only think about the people he needed to save.  He could only hear them shouting encouragement to him.  The pain from King Boo’s attack served as a tonic, rather than a deterrent.  Even after nearly losing an eye to a rapier, he’d steady his breathing and stand his ground, silently repeating his mantra.  Do it for them.  Do it for them.  Do.  It.  For.  Them.

            One blow downed Luigi.  And then another slammed into him while he was down.  Attacking ghosts blocked Gooigi and Polterpup, keeping them from coming to his aid.  The three rapiers savagely tore into him.

            “Stay down,” growled the King.  “Final warning.”

            Defiantly, Luigi picked himself up.  He straightened.  He tightened the Poltergust’s straps, not caring if he agitated any wounds.  And then he pointed the vacuum’s nozzle straight between those violet eyes.

            “I can do this all day,” he bit out.

            King Boo screamed, having utterly lost his [bleep].  As a result, he began making crucial mistakes, mistakes which Luigi capitalized on.  After he saved Gooigi from the onslaught of ghosts, the duo went back on the offensive, landing more punishing hits on their foe.  A socket appeared on the roof, allowing Luigi to use his Super Suction and make short work of the ghosts and the two false Kings.  While the socket was ultimately destroyed, Luigi managed to tear the rapier out of King Boo’s appendage beforehand.

            A pink glow surrounded the King.  From within the portrait, Peach was using her wish power to help Luigi, draining King Boo of energy and slowing the portrait frame’s descent.  The tide of the battle turned, but Luigi knew that he couldn’t drop his guard.  Therefore, he and Gooigi gave it everything they had left.

            Instead of incapacitating the King with bombs, Luigi and Gooigi caught a giant spiked ball thrown at them before launching it back, sending King Boo reeling.  Face set, Luigi marched right up to the King with Gooigi in tow, and they grabbed him by the tongue and threw every drop of strength into what would hopefully be the last round of slamming.  And with each slam was a promise—a promise to the imperiled sextet, a promise that King Boo would never put his appendages on them again.

            A final, fierce battle shout erupted from Luigi as he heaved forward and gave King Boo one last resounding slam, lifting his own body a couple of inches off the rooftop.  The resistance slackened, the King almost weightless now—

            And then he snapped forward like a slingshot, jostling Gooigi’s grip on him, his face warped with malice.  Luigi’s breath caught as he stared into those snarling features.

            “This isn’t the end of it, Luigi,” spat King Boo.  “Mark my words—you’ll never be rid of me.  Every time you fall asleep, I’ll wait for you in your dreams, tormenting you endlessly and screaming you awake.  You may have won this battle, but the war will never end.”

            Luigi didn’t know if he could take it.  Those blazing eyes and that cruel promise ate away at his courage.  His body flinched backward, and his eyes squeezed shut as he averted his gaze.  He knew he’d never be free of this monster.  He knew he’d always be in his nightmares.  He knew there would be the constant fear that King Boo would escape again, that Gadd would [bleep] up again.  He knew that this latest victory was pyrrhic at best.

            But suddenly—

            A warm feeling bloomed inside his heart and spread across his chest and abdomen, reaching across his limbs and caressing the back of his head.  His friends’ voices whispered in his ear, and he felt as if they were standing behind him, putting reassuring hands on his shoulders.  He thought about Gooigi, who helped him negotiate perilous traps.  He thought about Polterpup, who led him to Gadd’s vehicle, to the Poltergust, and who tackled him out of the ensemble portrait’s trajectory.  He began to follow his therapist’s advice, accentuating the positive.  He’d fought his way up eighteen stories, getting up after being knocked down and surging forward whenever he felt like giving up.  The ghosts he’d encountered—most of them, at least—burned him, bruised him, made him bleed and even almost drowned him at one point.  But by the grace of God, he’d come out on top.  He’d fought King Boo for the third time.  He’d won.

            And if King Boo somehow got free, Luigi would be ready for him.

            “Face it, Luigi,” hissed King Boo.  “Your fears make you weak.”

            Luigi turned back around to face the King, the vacuum nozzle firm in his hand.  He stared unflinchingly into those eyes gleaming with madness, his own gaze hard blue steel.

            “No,” Luigi said evenly.  “You’re wrong.  My fears make me strong.”

            Determinedly, he wrestled King Boo into the Poltergust, the gem from his crown launching itself out of the nozzle.

            The harrowing battle was over.

            Luigi: 3.

            King Boo: 0.

Chapter Text

            Professor Elvin Gadd, the man who revolutionized the world of paranormal science and paranormal research, passed away on the morning of October 19, 2021.  He was 102 years old.

            Elvin Gadd, known to friends and colleagues as E. Gadd, was born in Hartford, Connecticut on August 21, 1919 to Edgar and Edwina Gadd, who preceded him in death.  As a child, Elvin was afraid of ghosts, and most kids on the schoolyard teased him for it.  However, Elvin refused to let his fears define him, instead choosing to research ghosts and find out what made them so frightening.

            In 1937, Elvin enrolled in UConn, majoring in Paranormal Science.  He graduated in 1941, earning a B.S. degree, and then he went to work for the era’s most brilliant mind in paranormal research, Dr. Karl Tastroff.  Together, they began working on a groundbreaking new ghost-capturing device, known as the Poltergust.  In addition, he took a job as a factory foreman to aid in the war effort.  Elvin began his postgraduate education in 1944, earning his doctorate four years later.  In 1949, Elvin moved to New York City, where he taught paranormal science at Colombia University. 

            The arrival of McCarthyism drastically changed Elvin’s life, as he was soon accused of being a Communist sympathizer, bullied, blacklisted and harassed.  In 1952, he discovered a portal which took him to the mysterious Boo Woods, where he first encountered the small, white ghosts which gave the woods their name.  Elvin set up shop in a small community near the woods, where he devoted his time to studying the Boos and perfecting the Poltergust’s design.  Over time, the Boos took an interest in Elvin, allowing him to observe their day-to-day lives, and in 1955, Elvin was invited to their new King’s coronation.

            While the United States government exonerated Elvin and sent him a formal letter of apology in 1957, shortly after McCarthy’s death, the Professor chose to remain in Boo Woods until 1962, using that time to establish a close yet cautious friendship with the Boos and their King.  Upon his return to the States, Gadd resumed his teaching job, where he took pride in mentoring the students he encountered, similar to how Dr. Tastroff mentored him.  His colleagues described him as “an eccentric yet warm soul”, and he grew immensely popular throughout the turbulent 60s and 70.  Gadd split time between New York City and Boo Woods, where he compiled volumes of research on Boos and ghosts and continued to design new models for the Poltergust.

            Gadd retired from teaching paranormal science in 1984, but he continued to be an active authority in the field, attending conventions and giving up and coming researchers advice.  In 1990, he set up a scholarship fund aimed mostly at math and science majors, and the following year, he wrote an autobiography, When Adventure Calls, expressing the desire to help someone overcome their fears the way so many helped Gadd overcome his.

            In 1996, Professor Gadd moved permanently to Boo Woods, although he’d spend summers in Hartford.  Five years later, Fate took the eccentric professor on a new an exciting course when he encountered Luigi Mario in a haunted mansion conjured by Boos, rescuing the young man from an attacking specter.  Upon learning that Mario “Jumpman” Mario could also be trapped in the mansion and seeing Luigi’s determination to rescue his sibling, Gadd armed Luigi with the Poltergust 3000 and helped guide him through the mansion.  The rescue was a success, and Gadd and Luigi forged a tight bond in the following years.  However, Gadd’s relationship with the Boos and their King quickly fell apart as a result.

            After 13 years in Boo Woods, Gadd set out in 2009 to discover new types of ghosts, eventually landing in Evershade Valley in 2011.  There, he befriended the ghosts native to the area, and he learned that an artifact called the Dark Moon kept them benign.  In 2013, King Boo escaped from his confines and destroyed the Dark Moon in a revenge plot, and Gadd reached out to Luigi for help.  Thanks to the man Gadd had grown to regard as a son, a major disaster was averted, King Boo was captured and the Dark Moon was restored to its rightful place in the sky.

            Shortly after this incident, Gadd began spending more time in Hartford, where he started an internship program for college students interested in the paranormal.  In 2018, he discovered a new element, Goo, which he used to create a gooey clone in Luigi’s likeness, named Gooigi.  Gadd taught Gooigi how to capture ghosts, introduced him to Luigi and sent him into the past to test what he’d learned.  Over the next year, Gadd perfected Gooigi’s structural makeup.

            In October 2019, Gadd received an invitation to an international paranormal science convention, courtesy of the enigmatic Hellen Gravely.  She enticed and even bullied him into bringing King Boo as his centerpiece.  The “convention” was a trap, however, and King Boo and Hellen proceeded to trap Gadd in a portrait, keeping him in the hotel where he’d booked accommodations, called The Last Resort.  Gadd was eventually rescued by his mentee, who’d also been lured to the hotel under false pretenses, along with his brother, Mario, his “sister”, Peach, and three Toad retainers.  Luigi had armed himself with the Poltergust G-00, which Gadd had brought along as a precaution, and he’d resolved to fight his way up the haunted hotel.  Gadd set up a command center in the hotel’s basement and tasked Gooigi with helping Luigi along his journey.

            The reveal that Gadd had voluntarily brought King Boo to the hotel strained Gadd and Luigi’s relationship, but the latter still consulted the former for advice throughout his adventure.  Later in the night, King Boo hijacked the command center and recaptured Gadd, along with the others Luigi had previously rescued, with Luigi being saved via a last-second intervention by his pet Polterpup.  During the ensuing battle, King Boo enlarged the ensemble portrait and attempted to bring it down on the whole planet, but Luigi defeated him once and for all, saving his mentor and the rest of his friends.

            In the aftermath, Gadd, joined by Luigi, his friends and the previously-brainwashed ghosts, built a new hotel to replace the Last Resort, which opened his doors in the summer of 2020.  The professor also spent that time repairing his bond with Luigi, and he partially retired from paranormal research to look after the hotel and spend more time with his mentee.

            The day before Gadd’s passing marked the 20^th anniversary of his first meeting with Luigi.  Gadd spent that day reminiscing with the young man, who’d decided to mark the occasion by spending a few nights at the hotel along with his friends.  That night, Gadd and Luigi lounged on the rooftop and had a heart-to-heart talk, and they watched the sunrise together.

            Gadd’s last words were, “I’m proud of you, youngster.  Very proud.  If I had a hat, then I’d take it off to you.”  He then peacefully slipped away when he and Luigi dozed off.

            Professor Elvin Gadd is survived by his mentee, Luigi, along with the many others he’s mentored over the years, including Eliza and Richard Beckett, and their daughter, Dr. Shayna Beckett.  His funeral will be held on October 31, 2021 in his birthplace of Hartford, and he will be interred alongside his parents.  He will be sorely missed by the members of the paranormal scientific community, by the ghosts in Evershade Valley, by the residents of the small town in Boo Woods, and most importantly, by the youngster who Gadd helped to tap into and embrace his hidden bravery.

Chapter Text

            The Last Resort had tumbled down to its foundation, its sinister purpose having been nipped in a bud.  Now, the man in green knelt amid the rubble, his arms around his ghost puppy and his face buried in the pup’s “fur”, silently thanking God and any other deity that was listening.  He’d come inches from being reduced to a green and blue splatter on the pavement, Polterpup snagging him out of thin air.  The nightmare was over, he was alive, and his friends were safe.

            Luigi kissed the top of Polterpup’s head and looked up as Morty arrived on the scene, Gooigi in his arms.

            “Dear God!” exclaimed the ghostly director.  “Are you all right?”

            Too emotional to speak, Luigi nodded.

            “I’ve got him,” said Gooigi as Morty set him down.  “Thanks, though.”

            Morty nodded and reluctantly withdrew.

            Gooigi half-jogged over to Luigi and knelt beside him.  “Hey,” he said.  “Look at me.”

            But Luigi’s gaze was on the portrait just a few centimeters away, the prison containing his six friends.  He grabbed that portrait, pressed his forehead to it and then hugged it tightly.

            “Luigi,” said Gooigi, placing a hand on his companion’s shoulder as Polterpup gave a concerned whine.

            Luigi’s eyes were closed, his lips moving as he whispered softly to his imprisoned friends.

            “You’re shaking…” murmured Gooigi.

            But could Luigi be blamed?  Adrenaline continued surging through his veins, his mind still trying to catch up to the fact that the danger to his friends had passed.  Maybe it would never pass.  Maybe King Boo would escape again and…

            Gooigi was now in front of Luigi, his arms around him, drawing him close to his body.  The portrait was sandwiched between the two ghost hunters as they hugged, clinging to each other like they were drowning.

            “We won, Luigi,” Gooigi spoke in Luigi’s ear.  “We won.  We did it.  We won.  We beat him.”

            “Oh, my God,” said Luigi, his voice choked.  “Oh, my God.  Oh, my God.  Oh, my God…”  He uttered those words over and over, his breath hitching and rattling.

            “Shh,” Gooigi said soothingly.  “It’s over.  It’s over.”

            Whining softly, Polterpup nuzzled against Luigi’s side.

            They remained like that for several minutes, Luigi and Gooigi seeking solace in each other’s arms as Polterpup snuggled against the former.  The physical contact worked its magic, the shaking in Luigi’s body dying down and his breath steadying.  His blood still pumped, and he was still at the peak of an adrenaline high, but the calm was approaching.

            “Okay?” asked Gooigi.

            “Okay,” Luigi said quietly.

            The duo shared a soft, sweet kiss, and then Luigi gave Polterpup a quick back rub before getting to his feet, the portrait tucked under his arm.

            “They tried to stop me,” he said.  “They slashed me, beat me, tried to flatten me, released poison gas on me and even tried to drown me.  They nearly skewered me.  But I made a promise, and I wasn’t about to break it because of them.  King Boo—he was good, he was really good.  He had his bases covered.  He cut off all of my support by grabbing the Professor, and it was only a miracle that I escaped and found the Poltergust.  He threw everything but the kitchen sink at me.  But when I saw that he’d grabbed my bro and my friends, I told myself that I’d save them from him.  And I did.  For the third time, King Boo failed.”

            He leaned the portrait against a sturdy chunk of debris.

            “I’m not perfect.  I’ll never be as brave as Mario.  I’ve accepted that.  But I can be brave.  I can hold my own in a fight.  I can face my fears.”  Luigi studied the immobilized sextet.  “No one messes with my bro, and no one messes with my sis or with the Toads I’ve come to adore.  No one—not even the King of all Boos.  Until the world ends, until I no longer have breath in my body or until the day my heart stops beating, I will protect them from him.  I won’t let him within a yard of them without pounding him hard.  That is my resolution.”

            Luigi shone the Dark-Light Device on the painting, watching his friends emerge from it, one-by-one.

            Peach floated out with a graceful glide, fixing her hair and smoothing her dress.  “That was fun,” she quipped.  Walking over to Luigi, she kissed him on the nose.  “Thanks, Luigi.  I knew you’d come through for us.”

            Luigi smiled at her, his smile widening as he saw Mario leap out of the painting.

            “Luigi!” shouted Mario, practically throwing himself into his bro’s arms.

            Luigi hugged Mario close with his free hand as Chad, Brad and Thad tumbled out of the painting, a truly chuckle-worthy sight.

            The last person to exit the painting was Professor Gadd, landing on his stomach.

            Finally, all six of them were free.

            Luigi made his way over to his downed mentor.  “I’ve got you,” he said, kneeling down and helping Gadd to his feet.  “I’ve got you.”

            Gadd’s eyes searched Luigi’s before he dropped his head, leaning it against Luigi’s shoulder.  Unhesitatingly, Luigi embraced Gadd, hearing the others gather around them.

            “We’re gonna be okay,” said Luigi.  “Do you hear me?  We’re gonna be okay.”

            He felt Mario’s hand on his right shoulder, followed by Peach’s hand on his left.  Polterpup’s front paws were against his knee, and then he felt the three Toad retainers hug him around his waist.

            “We’re gonna be okay,” Luigi said again.

            Gadd suddenly drew back, gasping at the blood smeared on his white lab coat.  “Criminy!” he exclaimed.  “That fiend!  Look what he’s done to you!”

            “I don’t care what he’s done to me or what else he could do to me,” said Luigi.  “It hurt, but the thought of letting you down hurt me even more.  So, I kept going.  I kept fighting.  When he told me to stay down, I really wanted to.  But it wasn’t about what I wanted.  It was never about what I wanted.”

            His voice started to crack.

            “And then—he told me—that I’d always have nightmares about him.  When he said that, he was trying to break me, and he almost did, because I knew it was true.  Gooigi was there; he saw me look away from that psycho.  And King Boo would’ve broken me, had I not realized that it was what he wanted—to have the last word and savor one final victory at my expense.  I refused to grant him that victory.  I remembered that no matter what the crisis, I still have all of you.  I have a brother.  I have a sister.  I have a mentor.  I have an adorable little puppy.  I even have a gooey clone and every last one of my sister’s constituents.  I’ll never be alone; I’ll always have allies in this fight.  That knowledge alone gave me the strength and the boost to look King Boo in the eye without so much as flinching.  I was able to make it clear that whatever power he held over me was gone.”

            Tears trickled down his cheeks throughout this speech, his voice impassioned.  Seconds after Luigi finished, six pairs of arms encircled him, suffusing him with comfort and love.

            “I love you all, so, so much,” Luigi hiccupped, “and each morning I wake up, I thank God for you.”

            “Ditto,” Mario solemnly intoned.

            Just as he’d done 18 years ago, Luigi allowed the deep, relieved and grateful sobs to break loose, his body shuddering and heaving in his friends’ arms.  He hugged them, and they hugged him, uncaring of the fact that they were surrounded by debris.

            “I love you, I love you, I love you,” sobbed Luigi.

            “We love you, too,” said Peach.

            Trapped and tortured by a malevolent King, Mario, Peach, Gadd and the three Toad retainers should’ve abandoned all hope, but they didn’t—because they had a young man fighting for them.

            And because they had faith in him.

            They knew that he’d defy all odds and rescue them.  They knew that he wouldn’t leave them to their fate, albeit in the case of two of them, it was well-deserved.  They knew that somehow, he’d swallow his fears and battle their captors until they were out of harm’s way.

            They knew—because they were his family.

            Mario—the headstrong older brother.  Peach—the kind and regal sister-in-law in all but name.  Thad, Brad and Chad—three of the many Toads who owed their lives to the man in green.  Professor Elvin Gadd—the mentor.  Six souls Luigi held near and dear to his heart.  Six souls he’d gladly give his life for.

            Thanks to the image of Luigi, fighting and clawing his way through his fears, his doubts and his ghostly adversaries, these six souls had found their rock.

            Through this horrific night, Luigi had been their equilibrium.

            Now, it was time for them to be his.

            Being his equilibrium would be their resolution.