#Please don't lynch me. This bat only knows how to write pain

[flyingfoxwriter]

Whispers, they echoed around; before, deadly silence. The only thing he had been able to feel was coldness, a horrible iciness, gripping all his being. Then, slight pain, added to the one of blood loss. Finally, warmth, intense at first, controlled after.

But that warmth changed. With more whispers he could not recognize, it stopped being familiar and committed.

The ghost had let go of him, leaving him to rest inside the workshop instead.

“I can’t be here when he wakes up.”

Arthur could not hear him, still fainted, but safer inside Lance’s office. The warmth his arms had provided in the night was now given by Mystery’s fur, who rested as weakly behind the blond. Both had sustained deep wounds, and had not yet woken up.

For him, it was a good thing, but not for her.

“You should be here, Lewis.” Their voices echoed, only them capable of distinguishing their hurt tonality and emotion. As she held onto his ghostly arm, they both exchanged a deep look, one they had not been able to share before. “I want you here. I need you.”

His name, it echoed inside the room, a hand stirred.

“You shouldn’t, Vivi. Look around you, at them. I did this. I don’t belong here.” Another stir, as she took a few steps closer while he snarled. “He certainly won’t want me near, he shouldn’t either.”

“First, there was also that scissor maniac. Second, I’ve just remembered you and your death. Lastly… he was looking everywhere for you.”

“So was I. So much, so fervently that I could even lose sight of you, Vivi. I wanted him dead, more than giving you my heart.”

“Do you really think you can become someone he’ll call-“

“Yes. Much more than that; I hunted him down, I will surely be in his nightmares. He was mine, in my fiery grasp, as I-“

“You let me fall.”

Both Lewis and Vivi jolted, hearing that whisper. Slowly, they turned to look back at the far corner; there in the dim light, the big kitsune on the ground, and on him… not a sleeping figure, but a very awake and alert one.

Lewis shuddered, pierced by those two lost distrustful eyes. Arthur was still resting against Mystery’s side, but he had already assumed a tense position. His expression was more confused than furious, but the hurt was there.

Arthur only looked away from the ghost in the shadows to do one thing. He moved his only available hand and reached for his own chest. His disoriented grimace only intensified, when he could not find the hole in his chest, the one he had felt and seen before blacking out. He lost sight of those ghostly eyes in the pain, and now he could not feel them on him anymore as he regained consciousness.

Lewis had averted his gaze. Before Vivi could say anything, he had floated slightly away, his hand grabbing what had been beating on a desk. She had assembled what was left of his locket, the only one daring to reach for it, as she once had tried to do when she first saw him.

And now, as Arthur looked frozen with no understanding of what happened, Lewis tried to leave.

He couldn’t. Vivi did try to get a grasp of his arm as he tried to phase through a wall, but it was another thing that made him halt dead on his tracks.

“Why.”

So many questions, in just one word: Why was he not dead? Why was he? Why had he pursued him, only for him to try to kill him?

There was nowhere to run here. He was cornered, battered, and Vivi would not be of much protection if the ghost really wanted to lunge on him. The intent had been there, fiery and unyielding. Yet… Lewis was not doing anything but look away. Even his ghostly form had shifted, to show his former self, the same sight Arthur had seen before plummeting.

Arthur’s heart was beating impossibly fast; still heartbroken, impossibly lost, wondering if all was just a nightmare, or just another pause in the chase, just thanks to her presence.

It’s down to me to fix it.

Vivi did not miss how Arthur flinched when Lewis moved next. He sunk back into Mystery’s fur when those ghostly eyes fixed on him again. But the fainted Kistune did not offer much solace as the ghost advanced towards him.

“Arthur.”

Right then, there was no doubt he had not dreamed seeing this ghost as Lewis. He was seeing it right now, again. The friend he was desperately looking for was right there, looming over him. Part of him expected him to reach for his collar to yank at him again, perhaps fire to shoot downwards like it did for the tire of his van… and part of him expected the familiarity of his slow crouch, the look he gave him next.

Gone was the skull; eye to eye, Lewis whispered, as Arthur seemed to stop fearing.

“I’ve been dead for a while.” Lewis did something he himself had not expected to do before. With a hesitant glance, he grasped his locket, and let it rest in his hand for Arthur to reach for, this time willingly. “I tried to kill you.”

It was no illusion. Arthur brushed again his chest, now recognizing some scars in the dim light. Then, he looked at that shattered heart, which had seemed to be pieced together. His only hand moved after some seconds of contemplation; Vivi had moved closer, and was now looming behind Lewis, with the most pained look he had ever seen on her face. Her eyes oversaw it all as his hand finally clasped onto the locket, a shiver running down his spine as he brushed Lewis’ fingers.

“You did.” Arthur held again the locket, and once more he opened it. The picture was there, as torn as the pieces, as well glued together. The smiles were still visible however, so contrasting to the grimaces the three now wore. “Do you hate me that much?”

“No. I do not; you surviving that night is not what has made me hurt you.” Arthur truly was struggling to understand, as Lewis now looked nothing like his ghostly self, but like the friend he had always known, just seemingly heartbroken as he spoke. “I can’t hate you, not now, perhaps not ever. I thought I did; but I did not know who my enemy truly was.”

A shake of head, a choked whisper.

“I don’t understand, Lewis.”

“I know.” Lewis looked over his shoulder, afraid. He met her blue eyes, which once had been tinted pink. “No words may help you do so.”

She whispered, slightly hesitant, but sure that the truth was much better than believing Lewis would want him dead just for living, for such a petty reason.

“He should know. If he wants to…”

She understood if Arthur perhaps preferred to move away; she would stay by Lewis instead.

It was the ghost who showed most reluctance; he could see Arthur try to puzzle together all he knew, of that night and this one. But there were too many pieces missing. He believed in an accident, but… he could never imagine a murder mystery. A murder he had not committed, but that he could blame on himself if he ever discovered that he had not slipped and fallen.

“Arthur.” He met his eyes again, even though the locket was pulsing impossibly rapidly in his hand. He warned, his former friend finding himself listening. “I can show you the reason of me becoming what you have seen and are seeing now. However… if I do, I need you to do one thing.”

The blond gulped, noting the deadly serious look in those gleaming eyes.

“W-what?”

“Do not dare blame yourself.”

Those words, they triggered a reaction instantly. Arthur’s face showed a deep grimace, his eyes narrowing suspiciously; but it was not directed to Lewis, but to himself.

“You… fell in that place. You did…” Arthur held his head, seemingly doubting his own words, something screaming inside him. His heart, which had recently felt so cold, seemed to beat with something unlocked, but still blurred. “You did, didn’t you…?”

Arthur shivered, for Lewis raised one hand. It loomed over his eyes, but stayed there, not daring to descend onto them.

“I won’t show you if you don’t promise. I rather be the one you hate the most.”

Instead of himself.

“How can you…” His memory, it was full of flashes of green, something that was slowly seeping, making him recall painfully. It was making him fear much more than Lewis could have ever had. “P-please don’t make me promise.”

All the wariness he had felt was gone. Lewis tried to move away after his words, but he found himself stopped. He shivered when Arthur leaned fast and latched his only hand on his suit, keeping him there as he asked with a haunted gaze.

“Show me.” Lewis leaned slightly away, but that only made Arthur beg. “P-please, Lewis.”

His name was said with familiarity, affection. It was not whispered with shock, incredibility and fear. That made him decide that the truth would allow for a future in which he could mend things, even if slowly and painfully.

Arthur did tremble as he placed his hand onto his eyes, but did not flinch away. Slowly, a violet fire began to spark from it, but he did not cower. The fear was there, but it was not for his ghostly capabilities, but what they would allow him to see.

Vivi knew now those violet hues. However, this time they brought clarity, not blindness. Still she wished she did not know what Arthur would see, and that none of them had to ever know of it. It should have never happened.

As the light grew, Lewis closed his own eyes. He did not have the strength to see them sink into Arthur’s.

For both were now seeing what he saw, all through his former living eyes. The cave, the mist; the sound of a dash, the feel of a hand pushing on his back. The rush of air, the last sight of a sharp smirk from above. A spike, blood. His grieving resentful heart pulsing to give birth to his wraith, a ghost. Then, all that he had seen, just in another perspective. His coffin opening, his chase, Vivi being taken away, the truck, the crash and his last grip on him over ghostly spikes.

Then… the grasp. The cold icy grasp of what had made him dash that night, this time capable of much more thanks to his dying breaths. The lashes, the leers, the murderous intent. Their hold, their hits. Eyes full of malice, but then cowardice. Release… then silence; regretful painful silence. His body safe in their grasp, much more caring that what had made him move.

Those visions, not his own, but so representative of his actions. When they ended, he could still feel the coldness, what had kept him oblivious and blind.

Violet hues fading, his eyes returned to normalcy. For normalcy was now always one of horror, terrible wonder.

Lewis was not surprised to hear Arthur gasp and hold his own head, finally releasing his tight hold. Even Vivi leaned to reach for his shoulder, to keep him from slumping in lightheadedness.

With deep breaths, he was trying to stop seeing blurry, reach some clarity. But clarity was still so terrible, so cold to embrace.

As cold as him.

“Lewis, I-“ A hiss, the sight of his own body dashing forward, overlapped in a cave and right outside this workshop. “I ki-“

He did not let him finish. Arthur huffed, for Lewis lunged indeed. But instead of doing so like he had done before, he did so with a feeling much more pain inducing, more clear and real.

And Arthur… could move away; he could free himself from that hug, so easily. Lewis was holding him tight, close, yet trembling, hesitantly, knowing what he had done himself.

So his only hand moved once more, to return the embrace as Lewis let out a sobbed assuring whisper.

“You didn’t.”

He whispered too, tears much more clear than the black ones falling on him.

“Neither did you.”

An admission, no trace of blame. Vivi sighed, crouching there, able to do nothing but let them feel each other’s presence, let time begin to heal.

They were heartbroken, but hopeful as well.

#msa #mystery skulls #mystery skulls animated #I KNOW LAST CHAPTER'S ENDING WAS TOO MUCH #I TRIED TO SOFTEN IT. HAPPY?! #Please don't lynch me. This bat only knows how to write pain