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pi-cat000 · 2 years ago

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MSA time travel idea (part 44)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25 Lewis POV 3, Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31, ViVi POV 4 , 33, 34, Lewis POV 5, Mystery POV 2, Lewis POV 6, Vivi POV 5, Lewis POV 7 Vivi POV 6 Vivi POV 7 42 43

Part 45 here?

...

When Arthur blinks back awake his head is heavy like it has been filled with cotton and there is a persistent throbbing soreness to his shoulder. Out of habit, he checks his arm. It is still his arm and still attached to his shoulder. The dull pain is from a shotgun wound and not a recent amputation. After several years of arm-related pains and aches, it is a familiar enough sensation. Easily ignored. Best to just go back to sleep and let the world fade away. Everything is better when he is not awake to feel the press of guilt weighing on his throughs. Fittingly, it is this same guilt that drags him into a more coherent state.

He can’t drift back to sleep yet.

What right does he have to sleep when his Uncle and Lewis might never wake up? For all he knew his last conversation with Vivi had been a hallucination conjured by his exhausted brain and his Uncle was dead and Lewis possessed.

He shifts his attention to the room, immediately spying Vivi sitting at his bedside. The room is quiet enough that he can hear her finger tapping aggressively across her phone. She is hunched under Lewis’s oversized jacket, reading something on her phone, her brow creased into a scowl. The dirt on her face is gone and her shirt is a lighter shade of blue so enough time has passed for Vivi to leave the hospital, get changed, and come back.

He clears his throat to catch her attention, watching how a faint smile tugs at the corners of Vivi’s mouth when their eyes meet. Like she is happy to see him or something.

“Are Lew…” he immediately breaks into a coughing fit before fumbling for the half-full cup at his bedside, shrugging away Vivi’s attempt at helping and gulping the water down.

He clears his throat again.

“Lewis and Uncle Lance? Are they…” alive?

Vivi’s smile falls away, settling into a more neutral line of worry.

“Lance is still in intensive care, but only because he needs a ventilator. The nurse in his ward says he’ll be moved out today as long as there is no further complications with his injuries. As for Lewis’s situation…” She breaths out, face crumpling ever so briefly, “there’s been no change. He’s still in a coma…”

“Do you think I can see them?” Maybe it’s dumb but Arthur wants to confirm with his own eyes that they are both alive. He attempts to wiggle upright and finds it difficult from his prone position.

“I can’t see why not. They’re in different parts of the hospital so it’s a bit of a walk.” Vivi looks him over, gaze critical. Pain spikes in his chest and he fumbles for the bed’s remote knocking over the now empty cup, so it tumbles to the ground.

“…we should ask a nurse first,�� she amends, catching the remote before he can knock it off the table as well. She offers it to him, and gives a shaky smile. He tries to return the gesture but the expression feels wrong...disconcerting…He lets his eyes drop to focus on the remote, selecting the setting that would raise him into a more upright position.

Vivi’s hand rests against his shoulder, drawing his eyes back to her.

“Just take it easy Arthur. I checked in on Lance not even an hour ago and Nicholas and Maria are with Lewis almost around the clock. They’ll let me know if things change.” She holds up her phone which is lit up with several message notifications, none were from Lewis's parents.

“Right…” Arthur lets himself relax back onto the bed with a weary exhale. “Okay…”

He doesn’t have the energy to make a fuss or press for more. Not with Vivi looking so upset. Arthur doesn’t think-not even in his own timeline- he has ever seen Vivi look so unhappy. But of course, in his timeline, Vivi had complexly forgotten Lewis and it was hard to be sad about something you couldn’t remember.

Their conversation fizzles out and Arthur lets himself fall back onto the bed in favour of staring at the ceiling.

Remembering was better. It had to be better. Right?

Lewis wasn’t in the clear yet. If Lewis died then…then maybe forgetting was better. The ugly thought twists in his chest. Lewis’s disappearance had been the source of so much going wrong in his life. Would he have been better off completely forgetting as well?

“….” Vivi clears her throat and he twitches. Awkwardly, he shifts his attention back to her, realising he was still staring unblinkingly at the ceiling.

“I’ll go ask a nurse and see if we can visit Uncle Lance,” Vivi says, saving him from what would surely have been a clumsy attempt at reassurance.

“Just wait a second… I’ll be right back.”

Not like he could go anywhere. He has nowhere to go.

When Vivi returns she is accompanied by a harried-looking nurse who, despite not appearing pleased, helps Arthur into a wheelchair, impressing upon him the importance of not making an extraneous movement.

Arthur half follows along with the instructions. This isn’t his first time in the hospital with a serious injury. Everything is very familiar including Vivi pulling out her phone to take notes, nodding seriously. Deja vu. He is really starting to hate the feeling.

“…and please stay on hospital grounds.” The nurse finishes after which Vivi asks a few more questions which Arthur doesn’t pay attention to. The energy needed for him to move from his bed into the chair has left him exhausted.

“Arthur. I’m going to push you now. Let me know if anything hurts or if I’m going too fast or something.” Vivi leans over him, filling his field of view.

He takes a long, tired breath. “Sure…”

Vivi bites at her bottom lip, obviously worried. He tries once again to muster up a smile and give her some indication that he appreciates her efforts. Even if said efforts were undeserved.

All he can manage is a grimace.

…..

Lance is alive.

He had known Lance was alive. Why would Vivi lie about that? Seeing that his Uncle was alive in person makes it real.

Arthur leans as far forward as he can while confined to the wheelchair, attempting to see as much of the man as possible. From this low angle, he can see the profile of his uncle’s face and not much else. Despite it being eerily pale his chest is rising and falling in slow rhythmic patterns. There is a heart monitor counting out steady beats. The beeping is loud enough that it thankfully drowns out the soft tick-tick of the clock on the wall. This wasn’t the room Lance had almost died in but it looks similar enough that makes his skin itch. He focuses on the beep beep of the monitor and the soft breaths of his Uncle instead.

Some small, fractured shard in his chest loosens. The demon had failed. Maybe his cursed luck had rubbed off on it while it occupied Arthur’s body. Maybe Arthur’s unique ability to screw everything up had been passed onto the demon.

Sharing is caring.

He glances away from his Uncle’s chest and up at Vivi who is sitting in the room’s visitor's chair.

She is still chewing at her bottom lip, watching Lance. When she notices him watching, she turns, looking like she wants to ask a question. An uncomfortable question going by her hesitation. There is no shortage of possible topics. Arthur has barely explained anything.

She doesn’t ask her question and Arthur turns back to his Uncle. They both sit in unbroken silence.

…

The hallway between his and his Uncle's rooms has large windows with a view onto a half-paved, half-gravel courtyard. The open-air courtyard separates the hospital’s two main buildings and access to the adjacent research centre. Arthur can't help but let his eyes be drawn to the space. The sun outside is directly overhead, meaning everything is blindingly bright, making the hospital’s interior dim by comparison. Benches and tables are clustered around two sprawling trees at its centre. All were occupied by groups of off-duty doctors, nurses, and researchers. Nobody wanted to sit on the benches placed along the perimeter and under the hash midday sun.

Vivi follows his gaze. “Do you want to go outside?”

Arthur shrugs.

....

They end up sitting on the bench closest to the building entrance, barely shaded in the lea of the hospital. Well, Vivi sits on the beach. Arthur sits in his wheelchair next to her. It doesn’t take long for the sun to beat some warmth into him.

Deja vu all over again. He and Vivi had spent several afternoons sitting in this courtyard, talking themselves in circles trying to figure out what had happened in the Cave. He remembers accidentally trigging one of Vivi’s more severe blackouts on this exact bench trying to get her to remember Lewis. Months later, when Arthur started working on his prosthetic arm at the research centre, Vivi would visit on her lunch breaks and they would eat out here together. He doesn’t know why the memory makes his throat tight.

“It’s a bit hot out,” Vivi comments awkwardly, tugging off Lewis’ jacket to rest across her lap. She eyes him, tilting her head to the side.

“It's nice I guess…the hospital is too cold…” she continues after a beat.

“This place could do with more trees though.” She eyes the space and squints at the sun critically. “There’s not enough shade out here.”

“Yeah…” he agrees in lieu of anything substantial to say. The statement rings familiar. Vivi had complained about the lack of shade in the courtyard back then as well.

He lets out a weary breath, “So…” He might as well do this now while he has some iota of energy. Once he was back in his bed this would be almost impossible.

“So?” Vivi repeats.

“So…do you want to talk about it.”

“It?”

He hesitates, “You want to ask questions, right?” Obviously, she has questions he has barely told her jack, his own mind mocks him.

“That obvious huh?”

“A little …” he winces which has Vivi looking concerned again, “I know when you’ve got something on your mind.”

“I’m just worried.” She gestures at the hospital buildings around them. “about you and Lewis and everything else. It’s…it’s a lot to process.”

“In the future…” He starts, “In my timeline, I lost my arm like Lewis.” It feels like a cruel joke explaining it but, if the information helps, then little discomfort was worth it.

“It happened just after Lewis…ah…” he swallows, deciding that mentioning Lewis’s death probably wasn’t a great idea if his goal was to make Vivi feel better.

He starts again, “The old mines-the cave where I lost my arm- there was no cell reception out there, not up in mountains. Vivi, my Vivi, had to drive me to the main road so I probably lost just as much if not more blood. It took a few days, but I still woke up abet missing a few key memories. Hopefully, it’ll be the same for Lewis…i mean he’s a lot bigger than me...more blood?”

Shiny blue eyes meet his, unsure, conflicted.

“Lewis should wake up,” he clarifies, “hopefully not missing any important memories. The missing memory thing kind of sucked…a lot…” He tails off lamely, swallowing again to help with his dry throat. Understatement of the century. What if Lewis ended up with memory problems like Vivi? God, if Lewis forgets anyone let it be him and not Vivi. Please don’t let Lewis forget Vivi. Unease sits about him like a well-worn coat.

Vivi sighs, “I…” She shifts to sit a little straighter like she was physically pushing aside their combined gloom, “yeah…I hope so too.”

Arthur grimaces. He had always been terrible at cheering Vivi up. “You can ask more questions. I…I’ll answer them now.”

“I do have a few,” Vivi agrees, and lets a long, frustrated breath, “Okay…I have more than a few questions.” Another pause. “Actually, I have nothing but questions really.” Her open mouth clicks shut and he finds himself the subject of a scrutinising stare. She is scanning his face for something…he doesn’t know what.

“I promise I will answer?” He tries to inject some enthusiasm into the statement, but his voice sounds just as thin and tired as he feels. Vivi’s stare turns troubled.

“I mean…” Arthur starts again, “I’ll tell the truth. I did promise I would."

“That’s not….” Vivi interrupts and frowns. She takes a breath, “I don’t want people lying to me and that includes lies of omission. But look, just rest, get better, and tell me when you’re ready. I know about time travel and the body snatcher. I have Mystery to answer the more general questions now he's actually telling me stuff. You just focus on recovery.”

She nods to herself and sits back on the bench satisfied.

“I’m fine,” he reassures. “Just ask away…hmm…some of it isn’t very pleasant but I’m fine.” If he repeats it enough times maybe it would come true as if that strategy had ever worked for him.

“...” Vivi raises a brow, giving him one of her ‘do you seriously think I’ll believe that’ looks.

“I am fine.” He defends.

Vivi huffs, crossing her arms, “I thought you said you’d be telling the truth.”

Arthur grimaces, “That’s not fair. I’m fine enough for this.”

“You’re really not.”

“I mean…aside from the bullet wound I’m fine. Just ask me anything.” And now he just sounds desperate. Great. Why does Vivi pick this to be adamant about?

Vivi just scans him again, silent, scrutinising, like she is trying to decide what question to ask. It is a familiar expression.

“Arthur. Are we friends?”

Arthur blinks. “What?” Not the question he had expected.

“In the future are we friends?”

“Yes. Of course, we are, were, friends. You've always been my best friend,”

“I’m still your friend, right?”

“Ah…” Arthur hesitates because…because he doesn’t know what to say. Were they friends? Did Vivi still want to be friends? Why, after all his lying and the trouble he caused, would she still want to be friends? His hesitation does him no favours because Vivi is now a mix of indignant and worried.

“Maybe?” He answers. Vivi’s whole forehead lifts in disbelief.

“I mean…Yes?” He tries again.

“Then stop acting like we’re not,” Vivi bites, anger colouring her voice before she takes a calming breath and confirms, “We’re friends.”

She uncrosses her arms, turning so she can give the side of this wheelchair a light tap, “and as your friend, I want you to take it easy. If you’re set on telling me everything, then we can do it later. There will be time for explanations and questions. I’m not going anywhere.”

Oh no. He was not waiting for later. If he didn’t say something now he’d never have the courage to say it. It was now or never.

“The other Arthur, the one original Arthur from this timeline, he wanted to go on the supernatural-themed road trip originally, before I came back and replaced him.” He begins, ignoring Vivi's attempt at interrupting.

“We painted the van and put on that Mystery Skull logo like you always wanted. It even turned out looking pretty cool. Technically I didn’t lie about being afraid of supernatural stuff. Everything bad in our lives started on that road trip and none of it was normal or explainable. I didn’t want you and Lewis to get hurt.”

Arthur scrambles to reorder the sorry saga into something that was somewhat chronological, trying to separate the two timelines out in his head so he could cover any major differences. He could skip the majority of the road trip. He barely remembered enough of the good parts to recap them anyway.

“The road trip ended with Lewis disappearing you see, and I didn’t want a repeat of that. It didn’t work. You both got hurt anyway. Sorry.” He mutters the last bit like saying sorry made any difference.

“Arthur…” Vivi tries to interrupt again but Arthur pushes on.

“We solved mysteries, saw way too many lame roadside attractions, went to every haunted diner between here and California and no one got food poisoning … It was a good road trip. Your…ah…your itinerary was spot on.”

Vivi’s expression is now pinched, pained. He gives a weak almost-smile which Vivi doesn’t return. He quickly looks away, staring at his lap, mouth dry.

He swallows and chokes out, “Then there was the Demon. The Cave. No more arm. No more Lewis. Haha.” Even to his own ears his laugh sound hollow. His chest hurts and he takes a shuddering breath.

“I didn’t remember Lewis dying. Not at first. Not for a long while. Traumatic amnesia will do that apparently.”

Too much of a coward…locking away the memories of his role in Lewis’s death. If not for the demon, who knows if he would have ever remembered?

“Everyone tried to tell me Lewis was gone, but I didn’t listen. Guess I just didn’t want to believe it. To me, it was like he had just vanished. Poof. I always knew something was off about it. Something more to the story than Lewis getting lost in a cave and...and succumbing to exposure somewhere where none of the search parties could find him…I was only partially right."

He blinks rapidly to clear incoming tears. With no demon to dull this physical response, it feels like he reliving that moment of realisation all over again. The grief feels like a lead brick sitting in his chest.

“and Vivi got hit with some memory curse. The memory curse was our running theory because it targeted her memories of Lewis specifically. She forget him, everything about him and most things associated with him. It was too specific to be anything normal. It had to be a curse because a curse was better than brain damage or anomalous, medically inexplicable, memory loss triggered by a traumatic event. At least a curse might have been curable. No one believed us.”

And why would they have believed him? Arthur had barely believed it himself.

“It was bad in the beginning when no one knew what was wrong. We would mention Lewis’s name and you would just not register it or check out like a real-life blue screen. You barely recognised his parents. Anything that reminded you of him kind of zonked you out. After we discovered what was triggering it…” he swallows the familiar old sting of helpless frustration ignites, adding to his grief, “At least we knew what to avoid talking about."

“Once I recovered enough from losing my arm we went searching... ” He chokes out and stops talking because he physically can’t continue.

A glance at Vivi shows that she is understandably upset, her face slightly paler despite the sun's heat.

“I’m guessing convincing me to search for a person I didn’t remember wasn’t easy,” She mumbles and her voice also sounds wobbly like she’s trying to not cry.

He quickly looks away, sniffing back tears and pushing on, “You do like to ask questions and know things. I used to say we were searching for your memories…it was close enough to the truth. I thought that maybe, if we found Lewis, the memories would all come back. I was kind of desperate.”

It had always been a farfetched goal. The kind of goal that sprung from desperate hope. Hope so painful it kept him awake at night on the rare occasions the nightmares didn’t. Hope that he would carefully tuck away in the morning to prevent Vivi from catching on to the fact that something was terribly wrong.

It feels oddly freeing to voice this to Vivi now. He had clung to the belief that finding Lewis would break some mysterious curse and return all Vivi’s missing memories for so long that he had grown afraid that any points to the contrary would cause his motivation to crumble. It had always been a point of tension between him and Vivi. He wishes he could have explained it back then. Back when it mattered.

“Was saving Lewis the reason you came back?”

Arthur blinks rapidly to clear his vision and glances to the side, “No. It wasn’t. Like I said, I didn’t know Lewis was gone gone until I was…” He stops, wincing and swallowing, “I was already here in that past when I found out he was..d..dead.”

“I don’t know how I came back. We were out on one of our investigations looking for Lewis and we ran into this…Tree creature…looked like a human-shaped tree…. I hit it with the van by accident. It’s kind of hard to remember now...” He slowly sorts through half-truths. His encounter with Lewis directly after hitting the Tree Lady dwarfed everything else in his mind, making the strange attack seem barely important. He hardly remembers events between seeing Lewis at his ghost mansion and crashing into Kingsman Mechanics.

“I ended up crashing the van...” Arthur stops, stalling. Then Lewis killed him…his brain helpfully supplies.

All his fault…he had wanted Lewis dead. So weak and pathetic. It was only fair that Lewis return the favour.

“...and I woke up in my bed. At home. In this body. Two years in the past…” He finishes quickly.

“The demon…”

“Body snatcher.” Vivi corrects. “Don’t call it a demon,” she explains, “Calling it a demon makes it sound impressive. That thing was a parasitic asshole.”

“Ri…Right,” The venom in Vivi’s voice has him restarting, “The… body snatcher…” He shakes off his discomfort and the undercurrent of fear. Arthur remembers how annoyed the demon had been when Vivi called it a body snatcher and a small part of him worries...

“It was just as surprised to find out about the time travel and was really interested in how I did it. I...I didn’t know anything useful …It, ah, went through my memories pretty throwaway so I got nothing…not even subconsciously. The…body snatcher…ah…found the memory of me pushing Lewis of a cliff…in the cave…that’s how I, ah, know I killed Lewis. The demon found the memory and showed me.”

There is a sharp movement and rustling next him and Vivi stands up. Then the crunch of gravel. Arthur tilts his head up to see Vivi standing in front of him, leaning over. She reaches out to put one hand on each of Arthur’s shoulder, grip relaxed so as not to aggravate his injury. She holds him at arm’s length, scanning his face, her expression intense.

“Stop that." She commands.

“Stop what?” Arthur responds dumbly.

“Stop saying you killed Lewis.”

“I…”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“You weren’t there. You can’t know that.”

“I know enough.”

“But…” the words stick again, “that’s just it! You don’t know. You don’t know everything…I…I haven’t told you everything yet. When I tell you, you’ll agree with me.” When he looks up the sun is high enough in the sky that it turns Vivi into a darkened outline, stirring up hazy half-forgotten deams.

He squints up at the blurry Vivi-shaped outline but can’t make out her face. The word around him is too blindingly bright to make out anything.

“It’ll be okay Arthur. Just explain what happened. I’ll understand...We all make mistakes.”

He deliberately averts his eyes, muttering, “Why are you both so stubborn.”

Vivi obviously hears because she pulls back and frowns. Then, slowly, she reaches out with one hand to touch his cheek. Arthur, confused, also reaches up with his uninjured arm to put his hand over hers. Vivi brings her other hand around so she is squeezing both his cheeks together, scanning his face.

“We’re not different people. Me and your 'future Vivi' are the same person. Just like you’re still my Arthur.”

He doesn't meet her gaze. It is a lot harder to do with her holding his face like this.

"I’m just as much your best friend as she was…”

“…” he doesn’t know what to say so pulls one of her hands away from his cheek.

“Any version of me would care if their friend,” She emphasises the word, retracting her other hand without prompting, straightening “went through something awful. I care. We’re the same.”

“But you’re...we're not. I’m not your friend…” Arthur can’t help but protest even when he knows he should give it up and let Vivi believe what she wants. Arthur never won these sorts of arguments. Better to let everything stew and think up an argument with sounder logic later when Vivi was less worked up.

Frustrated at himself he continues, “I came back to fix things, and everybody was worse off for it. I lied to you. I lied to Lewis. Now Lewis’s arm is gone…That was supposed to be me! I was the one who lost their arm. I hurt Uncle Lance. I killed Darrel! I stabbed him. He was nice. A good guy. He always took my shifts at the workshop when I couldn’t work and I couldn't save him. Just like I couldn't save Lewis. I'm cursed. If I had just not been here, he would be alive.”

“Two years Arthur,” Vivi interrupts, hash now, standing taller, hands on her hips, “You’re two years older. Last I checked, that doesn’t make you a monster so stop acting like I’ll pack up and leave because you aren’t 100%, A-Okay after living through all that horrible stuff. Nothing you say is going to change my mind so you can just quit while your ahead.”

When he opens his mouth to argue Vivi beats him to it, “Don’t you dare try and get rid of me.”

“I’ll confess.” He continues hysterically. If Vivi won’t believe him then maybe he should find a way to remove himself from the equation, “Turn myself in. I’ll tell the police I drove Darrel out into the desert and killed him.”

“No.” Vivi objects. Sharp and abrupt. “You’re not going to tell the police you did anything because it wasn’t you who did it.”

“I can’t just leave him out there. He deserves better.”

Vivi’s face spasms, “Not at your expense…You shouldn’t take the fall for this. Not on top of everything else.”

She glances around but the space around them is clear of people and Arthur realises that their conversation had been growing louder and more intense. The courtyard is now mostly empty with many of the hospital employees returning to work

Vivi lets out a long breath then kneels down, putting her at eye level, crouched in front of his chair.

Arthur still can’t hold eye contact. Vivi’s eyes are too intense.

“When the police come to question you,” she says in a lower voice, “you need to say that you came to the hospital to see your uncle then went off for some alone time to gather yourself. They’ll have you on the security cameras so you can’t deny that you were here. Luckily, they also have that asshole Micky on the cameras. Out of the two of you, he is way more suspicious, and they already have him in custody so it’s not completely unbelievable that he would kill some random employee. Guy was a nut case.”

“He’s not some random employee.” Arthur interrupts upset, finding his voice again, “Darrel was a friend, and I killed him.”

“No. No you didn’t,” Vivi snaps matching his upset with equal frustration. “Look, I know you think you deserve some punishment for...I don’t know...having a bad case of amnesia and getting possessed, both of which were out of your control. That bastard parasite probably fed you a bunch of bullshit lies as well. It seemed like just the type to gaslight. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Arthur stalls in unhappy silence, not prepared to compromise or give ground.

“If you confess to the murder then I’m going to say I was a co-conspirator and planned the whole thing.”

Arthur blinks, finally looking up. Vivi’s glare is frosty, intense, and unyielding.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why…why would you do that.”

“I told you. I’m going to help you, Arthur. If you’re set on doing this, then I’m not letting you face murder charges alone. What did you think I meant when I said that.”

“Not this,” Arthur cracks, “You can’t.”

“I can and will.” She really meant that.

“But… you’ll be arrested or something…” He is not actually sure what would happen if Vivi randomly confessed to his crime.

“Just the way it has gotta’ be apparently.”

Arthur gets with another wave of déjà vu because he has had this conversation or a similar one with Vivi before. In another life. In a different future. It leaves him floundering as both versions of Vivi seem to meld into each other, like everything he loved about his own Vivi was seeping through to this new one.

“This isn’t …” He starts then stops. “It’s not supposed to be this way,” he says helplessly. Vivi wasn’t supposed to be this way.

“Of course not. What’s the point of changing the future if everything stays the same? We’ve both seen the same moves. You know how this works.”

“Half of those movies end with a lesson on inevitable consequences and fate.”

“And half of them end with everything sorting itself out. Look, we can argue about this until I get kicked out at closing time -remind me to find the paperwork so I can sign myself up as your medical proxy- but I can guarantee that nothing you will say will change my mind.”

Well, he’s not sure about that. Maybe if told her the real truth about Lewis and his role in his murder she would leave. He wasn’t sure. The answer, which moments ago he had been so certain of, was now unclear.

“I can’t leave Darrel out in the desert,” he repeats, exhausted, “He deserves better…”

Vivi frowns, opening her mouth and then clicking it shut, considering him. Her jaw clenches and she flops back so she is now leaning against his chair instead of crouching, half stretched out across the gravel path.

“Yeah…okay,” she props up an elbow against a knee, massaging her eyes. “How about this? You give me as good a proximation of the location as possible, or any landmarks you remember, and I’ll go track Darrel down with Mystery. Then I’ll leave an anonymous tip with the police, and they can handle the rest. How does that sound?”

“Like you’re giving me much of a choice.” He mutters, trying to not let his thoughts wander off into dangerous lands filled with crackling fire and unkind whispers that would berate him for giving in and letting Vivi bully him out of justly deserved consequences.

Vivi glances up at him and she is back to looking sad, anger falling away

“Maybe I’m being too blunt about all this. I’m not good at this sort of stuff,” she says, “but, Arthur, if Darrel was a friend, then he wouldn’t have blamed you. Just like I don’t blame you. Just like Uncle Lance or Lewis wouldn’t blame you.”

He can’t help but shiver. Bright purple flames dance across his vision like ghostly hands pulling his attention.

Lewis’s angry fire catches in in shirt and a sudden drop awaits on either side of him.

“This is your fault!”

He can almost feel the heat.

Lewis had blamed him.

He doesn’t know who to believe. Should he believe Vivi, sitting here with him, peering at him with such honest intensity that he can hardly stand to look at her? Or should he believe Lewis, dead by his hand, left in a future that didn’t exist?

For some strange, unfathomable reason, he thinks he believes Vivi. If she was so willing to share the consequences of his failures, then maybe she wouldn’t care that he was so weak and pathetic. He squashes the sentiment. He can’t think like that. It’s wrong.

It must be wrong.

...

Note: a year later and this is finally done.

#MSA #mystery skulls animated #arthur #ViVi #HEAVY ANGST #hospitals #unreliable narrator #fanfiction #fanfic #time travel #dialogue heavy

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alphashley14 · 3 months ago

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One of Us

A Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated/Mystery Skulls Crossover

<Prev

Chapter 26

Erase Me

There was something good about the Mystery Machine. It was filled with a sort of warmth that never really went away. And almost always, it was filled with sound. Plotting, theorizing, and swapping stories and information while on a mystery. Or in mundane moments, there would be idle chatter, laughter, music or voices drifting from the radio, tapping from Velma’s computer as she typed away, or Shaggy and Scooby munching away in the back seat. And even when the Mystery Machine did fall silent, there was a sort of lightness to be found there; when five friends could find comfort in a familiar place with nothing more than one another’s presence.

It was never a good thing when the Mystery Machine was the other kind of quiet.

This kind of quiet.

The sort of heavy silence when there was an elephant in the room. So many words that needed said - would inevitably be said, but weren’t ready to come out. And yet the five of them were so stuck in their own thoughts that it didn’t seem very quiet at all. But to the sixth occupant of the van, the silence was suffocating.

Before the drive, before the quiet, back at Daisy’s when she and Steven had finally walked back into the living room, the five Mystery Solvers had barely moved and none of them had spoken. Daisy, mascara slightly smudged, had stood in front of her sister and said, “Daphne.”

But Daphne didn’t look at her.

“Daphne,” Daisy said again. And this time she actually knelt down. Daisy Blake, who had never once stepped down to meet her little sister in the middle, knelt down to look her in the eyes. This time, Daphne looked up.

“Steven and I talked about it and… we’ll do it.”

The next few hours passed in a blur. They called the Mystery Skulls back inside and Vivi and Lewis did most of the talking. Logistics. Timing. Whens, wheres, and hows. Plans and backup plans. Numbers were exchanged for if and when those plans changed and so the nitty-gritty details could be hammered out later, and then they were leaving.

Daisy led them out herself, Steven beside her, but as Mystery Incorporated was heading down her front steps Daisy said, “Daphne?” And when her sister turned around, Daisy looked like she didn’t know what to say. Or perhaps like she wanted to say more than what came out. “Just- like… be careful. M’kay?”

“I- uh… okay Daisy. You too.” Daphne stammered, bewildered.

Then they were at the Mystery Machine, and Fred was fumbling with the keys when Lewis gently placed his hand over them. “Fred,” he said, “I’ll drive.”

“Huh? What do you mean you’ll drive? C’mon Lewis, that’s ridiculous,” Fred tried to laugh it off, but he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Dude,” Lewis said, gently yet firmly, “you guys have been twitchy since… look, you can barely get the car started with how bad your hands are shaking. You are in no state to drive. Please, Fred. Let me.”

And as much as Fred loved the Mystery Machine, he didn’t fight Lewis on it any further. But once they were actually in the van, heading back to the mansion behind Vivi and Mystery in the other vehicle, the quiet set in.

The sort of tense silence that had Lewis very, very worried. What had they seen? Because whatever Mr. E had been facing then, it was what Arthur was facing now!

And Mystery Incorporated knew that. Really, they did. And they were thinking about it. But their thoughts were also elsewhere, elsewhere, and all over the place.

Yet individually, they stood united under one question: How could you?

Mr. E was the one person who believed in Professor Pericles more than anything. The one who gave him another chance, even after everything. His best friend. And he’d-

But that train of thought just made them replay what they’d seen all over again. And that was one thing Shaggy absolutely did not want to do. Just thinking about it made his skin crawl.

He kept having to remind himself that Ricky wasn’t there anymore. He was safe and sound in Shaggy’s body back at the Mystery Skulls’ mansion. And Shaggy was safe and sound in Arthur’s body - but where did that leave Arthur?

It isn’t fair, he thought to himself. It wasn’t fair that Arthur was fighting a battle that wasn’t his own. The way Mr. E had screamed in that video… Arthur had already endured what Ricky had at least once. Had he screamed that way too? Was he screaming now? He shouldn’t be, and it wasn’t fair! But if Shaggy wished Arthur to be safe and sound back where he belonged, then where would that leave Ricky? And Shaggy-

Once his train of thought went down that road, Shaggy shrank in on himself and felt dirty. He wasn’t a stranger to being afraid. Or running away, or wanting to quit. But this time? That kind of thinking made Shaggy feel like a rotten, selfish, ungrateful coward. Because if they could swap bodies one more time and Shaggy had the chance to take their place, he knew he wouldn’t have the strength to do it. And for a moment, he wasn’t sad for Ricky or worried about Arthur. He was just glad that it wasn’t him.

Feeling awful about himself, Shaggy looked up and his eyes wandered to each face in the Mystery Machine. Scooby was laying at Shaggy’s feet, ears drooped. He looked oddly guilty, or as though he was going to be sick. Velma, sitting next to Shaggy, had alternated between looking completely blank or on the verge of tears ever since they’d seen the footage. And from what he could see in the front seats, Daphne was looking out the window and Fred was staring straight ahead. So while he could not see their expressions, he could see the glances Lewis kept giving them; And his face told Shaggy everything he needed to know.

With a sigh, Shaggy looked down at Arthur’s prosthetic arm, flexing the metal fingers thoughtfully. Now wasn’t the time to be feeling bad about what a shitty person he was (which of course only served to make him feel even worse) for one simple and obvious reason: it wasn’t about him. It was about Ricky. Ricky, who had been carrying all of this around from the beginning. Ricky, who had trusted them with one of the most horrible things to ever happen to him, and was probably waiting back at the mansion right now worrying over what their reaction was going to be. Ricky, who was somehow brave enough and strong enough to face what Shaggy knew he couldn’t.

Mr. E.

Who didn’t really have anybody else.

So the five of them would have to do.

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

When they arrived at the manor, they found Ricky and Angel in the library.

Not that they were exactly difficult to find. The Dead Beats were diligently patrolling the hallway outside and their voices were drifting down the corridor from the open door.

“-So the first and really only culture to write about the Annunaki and the Nibiru event were the ancient Mesopotamians,” Ricky was explaining. “But there’s evidence of their presence among other cultures under different names. Which obviously there must be at least some truth to because Mystery’s Annunaki ancestors spent time in Japan, and according to our research the evil entity behind the curse, which is an Annunaki, was defeated and imprisoned in Ancient Egypt- oh!”

Ricky stopped mid-sentence and looked up when Mystery Incorporated stepped into the doorway. He and Cassidy had some of the notes the two groups had made yesterday spread out on the floor and the two of them had been laying on their stomachs side-by-side reviewing them. But the moment he saw their faces he sat up and his stomach dropped.

They’d seen it.

Daphne’s eyes were red and puffy, Fred could barely look at him at all, there was no mistaking the pity on Shaggy and Scooby’s faces, and Velma’s eyes were fixed on the floor.

I knew it.

They’d never go back to the way they’d been this morning. All the progress they’d made, and for what? How little they must think of him now. They must be so disgusted…

Ricky could see the Mystery Skulls coming up behind the kids, and even though they hadn’t seen the footage, it was plain on their faces that they were worried. It was also clear even to poor Cassidy, who didn’t fully know what was going on, that something was up. Right as she was sitting up, looking between them, Ricky nervously cleared his throat and stood up abruptly.

“So!” He said, as if ignoring the elephant in the room would somehow make it go away. “How did it go?” Ricky rubbed his hands together and started picking up the notes and books that they were done with, busying himself with stacking them and setting them on tables to quell his nervous energy. “I uh- heard from Lewis that you went to see Professor Hatecraft. I know he’s your friend. Must’ve uh- been nice to see him again. And you’ll have to tell me how it went with Daisy. I know Daphne wasn’t looking forward to it, but I really do apprecia- oof.”

Right as Ricky was setting the first stack on the table, Velma suddenly marched forward, grabbed him by the shirt, turned him around, and hugged him tight around the middle.

Ricky was so shocked by the gesture, much less from Velma, whom he’d wronged more than any of them, that for a stunned second he froze. Eyes wide, arms awkwardly held above her like he didn’t know what to do with them. Did he hug her back? Was he allowed?

“Uhm… Velma…?”

Then finally she whispered, “I’m so sorry…”

Her bottom lip trembled, her shoulders tensed, the tiniest little whimper slipped out, and then she was crying.

“Velma…” Feeling extremely awkward about it, Ricky brought his arms down, rubbing her back and gently patting her hair. And when she didn’t pull away he hugged her back. Then the rest of her friends were around him too - and Ricky didn’t have enough arms for them all. Shaggy’s head on his left shoulder, Daphne’s on his right, Scooby against his hip, and Fred’s cheek leaning on the crown of his head.

They’d never go back to the way they were this morning. And slowly, it dawned on Ricky that it wasn’t because they’d gone backwards.

But any warmth that realization inspired was replaced by a cold dread. Because he could feel Cassidy’s eyes boring into his back and he was fresh out of excuses.

Swallowing nervously, Ricky gently backed Velma off of him, and the other four took the cue to let go as well. “Aw, thanks guys. There there, Velma. It’s alright-”

“No. It’s not,” she said. And now she sounded angry. “I-” she sniffed and dabbed her eyes under her glasses with the thick fabric at her turtleneck. “I cannot believe they did that to you!”

“Reah!” Scooby agreed with a growl.

“Like yeah. Friends like- friends don’t treat friends like that, man!” Shaggy exclaimed.

“Oh It went far beyond treating someone bad!” Velma said, so loudly it bordered on yelling. “It- it was assault! That’s what it was! I just- I can’t believe he- Oh god… Ricky, I- dammit, I know I already said it but I’m so sorry!”

“She’s right,” Fred said. “What they did was- beyond anything I could ever imagine doing to one of my enemies, much less one of my friends. And I can’t believe my real parents-”

“Fred,” Ricky said, his brows coming together, “I don’t blame you. What they did- it wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah. I know that,” Fred said, sounding every bit like someone who didn’t completely believe it. “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

“And the way they talked to you!” Velma scoffed.

“No kidding! If Pericles has got one thing going for him, it’s the audacity,” Daphne quipped, hands on her hips.

“Reah! Rit’s not like you asked for anything unreasonable!” Scooby added.

“Like yeah! He totally didn’t!” Shaggy agreed.

“He asked for the bare minimum really,” Daphne said.

“So- Are you okay, Ricky?” Fred asked.

By now, Ricky’s head was ducked as far between his shoulders as it could, and he was positively red in the face with a mix of embarrassment and flattery… and a smile he couldn’t wipe off his face no matter what other emotions were clambering over each other for attention. Everything they were saying- even after seeing it. Even after presumably knowing everything. They weren’t disgusted or treating him like he was made of glass. And in spite of all the words of comfort and wisdom he’d gotten up until now, he’d never felt so validated before.

But of course he couldn’t say all of that without embarrassing himself further. So all he said was, “M’ good. I’m- better than I thought I’d be, actually.” And he laughed when he said it, in spite of himself. “So uh- what exactly did you see? I mean I was under the impression that there was… a lot on that flashdrive. I mean did you watch all of it?”

“Not even close,” Fred said. “We started at what I can only assume is the first time he hit you. And we got to the first time he- did it. Before we uh… sorry. We couldn’t bear to watch any more than that.”

“Couldn’t bear. To watch any more. Of what?”

All six of them froze and had the same thought at once: Shit.

They slowly turned around, and there she was. Brows furrowed, mouth set in a firm line, arms crossed, weight balanced on one hip. Looking positively murderous. Without daring to look away, feeling very much like they were facing a rabid animal, Fred gulped. “You didn’t tell her, did you?” He asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“Most of it, but then couldn’t get the important part out,” Ricky grumbled back. Also out of the corner of his mouth.

“Want us to help you out?”

“No Fred, I’m afraid this is something I have to do myself. But thank you.”

Also not looking away from Cassidy, like she’d jump out and bite somebody at any moment, Velma pulled her laptop out of her bag, stuck the flashdrive in it, and passed it into Ricky’s arms. “All yours, E.”

“Hoh-boy. Like, we believe in you man.” Shaggy laughed nervously.

“Rud ruck,” Scooby said.

“Ranks. I’m gonna need it,” Ricky gulped. And then they were backing away. Not leaving, but lurking just beyond the doorway to give them the space they needed (yet close enough to witness the drama unfold). The Mystery Skulls meanwhile, still respecting Ricky’s wishes and privacy, had made themselves scarce.

Ricky was glad the kids were sticking around, because if they left he would’ve been alone with quite possibly the scariest thing in the entire manor. Had she really been contently laying beside him while they talked just a few short minutes ago? Because now, it was as if the energy of the room itself had shifted.

“What happened to you?” She pleaded. Her voice wasn’t as hard as it had been a moment ago but there was a crack to it already, and she hadn’t even seen it yet. “Ricky. Baby. Please. Talk to me.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. He set the laptop down on a desk between them and opened it right to where the kids had left off. With the screen paused on a scene he remembered all too well. His hands were shaking when he slid the timestamp back to the beginning. Then he looked up at her, still staring expectantly over the top of the screen. And he knew this whole day, waiting for bad news must’ve been torture for her. His mouth was dry and his heart was pounding in his ears. But he remembered the kids. He remembered how seeing it, knowing what had happened to him, hadn’t ruined anything between them.

He hoped the same would be true with Cassidy.

And he told her - he must have. But if anyone asked him what he said, he couldn’t tell you. Even as the words came, it was as if he blocked them out.

But not the look on her face. First anticipation. Then unease. And finally horror. And once he ran out of words and couldn’t bear to see her look at him that way anymore, he turned the laptop around and hit play.

“He’s late,” he heard his own voice, his real voice, say.

Then came Judy’s. “You know he shows up when he means to. I’m sure he’ll be here soon, don’t you think Brad?”

He couldn’t look at her as she watched the scene unfold. Try as he might to tune it out, those voices- that scene started playing in his head and the feelings started coming back in real time, as if he was back in the shoes of his past self all over again. Anxiety. Hope. Pride. Power. Then frustration. Anger. And as the video neared the inevitable tragedy, the feelings of his present self, knowing what was coming, seeped in.

Fear. Fear that grew and swelled into abject terror.

“-If you won’t listen to me,” his true voice said, and his mouth silently traced the words, having played this memory over in his head a hundred times before. Searching for some way it could have ended differently. “-Then you haven’t left me with much choice: Get out…”

Ricky turned around and all but stumbled out of the room. Wanting- needing to get away. He knew how this story ended, but he didn’t want to live it again. The kids made some move to stop him. But he played little heed to their voices and jerked away from the kind hands that reached for his shoulders.

The sounds of his own screams chased him down the hallway as Ricky blindly fled his own memory.

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Cassidy didn’t know what she’d been expecting.

But it wasn’t this.

A torture button? Using what- mutated cobra llarvae?

Who on God’s Green Earth other than Professor Pericles even thinks of that?

After spending time with Ricky in someone else’s body for the past few hours, it was sort of jarring seeing him in his own skin again. Even in a video. But when Ricky of two weeks ago (according to the timestamp) started telling Pericles off, Cassidy sat back, looked up at Ricky, and laughed, impressed.

The far-off look in his eyes and the tremble in his shoulders stole the smile from her face. She looked back at the screen.

At some point, she became aware that he left. And she would have gone after him, but tunnel vision locked her legs in place and her eyes on the screen.

When Pericles pushed that button, when Ricky went rigid, then dropped to his knees, it hit Cassidy right in the heart. Then came the screaming. The begging. The pleading. And she froze.

She had never heard Ricky scream like that. And she never wanted to hear it again.

And Brad and Judy were smirking at one another. Like a pair of naughty children who’d gotten a third into trouble.

And Pericles was laughing.

“I had wondered what sounds you would make,” the parrot sighed, chuckling to himself. “And of course, my sweet Ricky, you did not disappoint me.”

A cold fury seeped into Cassidy’s veins like venom. She had already hated Professor Pericles for far longer than the time she’d once considered him a friend. But at that moment, listening to him laugh and gloat over the sound of Ricky screaming- Angel Dynamite thought to herself for the very first time, I’m going to kill you.

Pericles had finally stopped, but Ricky was still quietly sobbing, his body shaking with the aftershocks when Cassidy stopped the video, unable to watch any more.

There was a painful lump at the back of her throat that Cassidy couldn’t afford to let out. Her hands steepled against her lips, her elbows on her knees, and she closed her eyes and took deep breaths. She wanted to scream. Throw things. March out of this manor right now and put a damn bullet through that bird’s skull. But the kids were still lurking just outside - watching. And Arthur was in there- oh God, Arthur was in there! And above all, Ricky needed her.

Ricky. She opened her eyes. And what did she see? With the video closed, she was faced with a long, long list of files. And it hit her, really hit her, that what she’d seen was only the tip of the iceberg. “Oh sweetheart…” She muttered.

Then one of the file names jumped out at her: “CASSIDY 🗣️🔴”

… What was her name doing there?

For a moment, she was torn. She didn’t want to see any more of Ricky’s suffering. She wanted- needed to go after him. To see him, comfort him, hold him. Reassure herself that even if not in his own skin, she had him.

But that file. It was as if it was calling her. Cassidy. Cassidy!

She had to know.

Cassidy opened the file and hit play.

Ricky was sitting alone in front of his monitors. With the glare, she couldn’t see what he was doing, but he was anxiously bouncing one leg. Brad and Judy appeared on the island behind him and he flinched, but said nothing, trying to ignore them.

“You’ve been on the computer more and more.”

“He sure has, Brad! You’re not allowed on the internet, so what do you do in here for hours on end?”

“There’s been no sign of her for weeks!” Ricky finally said.

“Who are you looking for?”

“Cassidy.” And the way he said it- even while trying to mask it, he sounded so worried. Earlier today came to mind. The look of shock, hope, anguish on his face when he’d seen her standing alive and well at the bottom of the staircase.

“Maybe she finally gave up,” Brad suggested smugly.

“No! She would never give up! She’s gone!”

Again, this morning came to mind. Ricky, screaming those very words at the top of the stairs.

“Of course she’s gone,” Professor Pericles said, appearing onscreen. “Anyone who crosses me gets… eliminated.”

If Cassidy had found the first video hard to watch, seeing Ricky’s heart shatter into a million pieces right in front of her was somehow worse. Again, she remembered this morning. The way he’d hugged her like his life depended on it-

“You were informed she had been taken care of,” Pericles said dismissively. The Ricky on the screen was hyperventilating. Falling to his knees beneath the weight of his grief. His guilt.

She remembered Ricky sobbing into her shoulder, hardly able to get a word out between sobs. ‘I never stopped looking for you and then he told me- he-’

“Would you like to know how she died?” Pericles asked, as if he enjoyed the pain he caused. “If it is any consolation, my sweet Ricky, she likely did not suffer.” Cassidy stood up. She’d seen enough. But as she stepped around the computer she could still hear the audio. “-They say that drowning is one of the most peaceful ways to die. If the explosion didn’t kill her instantly.”

Then she heard two words come out of Ricky’s mouth in such a frigid tone of voice it stopped her in her tracks. “Fuck you.”

“What?” Pericles said. And he sounded just as surprised as Cassidy. She slowly turned around. She never would have expected Ricky to talk to Pericles that way. But then-

“FUCK YOU! You bastard! You were always jealous of her! All because you wanted me all to yourself, you just couldn’t let me have anyone else that I loved! And look at what you’ve done to us! Brad and Judy threw away their own son like garbage for that stupid treasure! Anyone with eyes can see what I’ve become! Cassidy was the only one of us who was strong enough to stay good in spite of that stupid curse - in spite of you! And YOU KILLED HER!”

Then Pericles must have pulled out the button again. Because Ricky made that same horrible choked, strangled sound from the other video. Screaming on the inside, but unable to muster the breath to let it out.

Cassidy slammed the laptop shut with a snap, unable to bear a second more.

There was a beat- maybe two, of stunned silence. Then the music began.

Dramatic violins overlaid with static - all too fitting for the tightness in her chest, the burning in her throat, and the wetness on her cheeks. Right as the deep thrum of the cellos and clarinets joined the orchestra, Cassidy took a deep breath, turned around, and walked out of the library with as much grace as she could. She barely glanced at Mystery Incorporated when she passed them. A few of them were crying, and a few of them had their hands clamped over their ears. The crash of the cymbals all too fitting for what they were feeling. Angel herself was holding her own emotions back by a thread and knew that if she stuck around a second longer, she was going to lose it right in front of them.

She strode up to the nearest Dead Beat. And right as the striking beats were ending and the gentle thrum of the piano began, Cassidy looked up at it with angry, bloodshot eyes and asked it point blank, “Where is he?”

The sad little ghost knew without being told who she was asking about. It pointed a nubby arm and went zipping down the corridor. Cassidy walked after it at first.

So right now I can feel it, feel it overtaking me

Then she couldn’t stand it and walked faster.

So right now, ooooh I can feel it overtaking me.

Then the moment she turned a corner and the kids couldn’t see her anymore, she was running. And when it sped up, she sprinted after it.

'Cause there's, 'cause there's no one in this world that could treat me like 'Cause there's no one in this world that could take me back 'Cause there's no one in this world that could make it fit 'Cause there's no one in this world

Turn after turn, paintings, doors, and suits of armor flew by. Cassidy’s boots colliding with the carpeted hardwood floors echoed through the corridors. Where is he? Where is he?

Erase me Erase my mind again. Erase meeee~, ooooh~ Erase my mind again, love

When the Dead Beat led her into the foyer and went zipping up the stairs, Cassidy dashed after it. Where is he? Where is he?

Erase me Erase my mind again

Cassidy ran after the Dead Beat for what felt like an eternity, but really wasn’t very long at all. They found Ricky on the second floor, having been trying to retreat to the relative safety of his room before his own emotions got the better of him. He was kneeling on the floor leaning against the wall between two suits of armor, clearly facing the tail-end of a breakdown, his hands fisting his hair. She stopped when she saw him, breathless, shoulders sagging with relief. And then she was striding towards him.

Erase me, oh

He turned around when he heard her coming. Red-faced and puffy-eyed he croaked, “Cassidy I-”

Erase my mind again, love!

He was cut off just as the song came to an end, when she dropped to the floor at his side and flung her arms around him. He stiffened, surprised, but a moment later she felt him relax. Only then did Cassidy lean back and, gently yet firmly, she dragged his upper body into her lap and pressed her nose into his soft caramel colored hair. He stretched his legs and curled them in on the floor to get comfortable, and his arms came, gentle yet firm, around her waist.

And she held him; So tight it probably wasn’t comfortable but he didn’t complain - just held her back. Leaning into it with a sigh when her fingers carded through his hair, then stayed there. Ricky had always loved having his hair touched.

Cassidy’s shoulders shook. Her vision blurred. That lump in the back of her throat finally slipped out. And then for the first time in what seemed like forever, she was sobbing.

He muttered her name, muffled with his face pressed into her chest, “Cassidy,” and his arms tightened around her. “M’ sorry…”

“Don’t you-” she sniffed, “dare apologize- hic! It’s just- I… oh Sweetheart… Baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

“Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

They laid there together for what seemed like the longest time. There was something unmistakably intimate about their position, and yet in spite of everything that had happened between them none of it seemed to matter.

It did matter. That much should not be mistaken. And they would hopefully work through it. Or they wouldn’t. But that didn’t seem to matter much for the moment either.

All that mattered was that, at least for the moment, he was safe. And he was with her.

-Except he wasn’t.

Because no matter how much she kept telling herself that this was Ricky, and that was enough, her heart still longed for the rest of him. All of him. Complete and whole. In his own skin. As he should be. She missed his face. His voice. His dark brown eyes, even with the bags under them. His beard and thick, silky dark hair. She’d never gotten the chance to touch it, in the five years since she’d gotten to see him again. She remembered being surprised to see it so long, and had caught herself wondering how it would feel beneath her fingers. Or how the rest of him had changed for that matter. How would it feel to lean against him? Or to have his arms around her? Did he still have that scattered peppering of freckles across his back and shoulders? And how much could those constellations have shifted?

It scared her to think of Ricky, even part of him, still in the clutches of someone who only wanted to hurt him. And it horrified her to know that Arthur was in his place. Oh God, Arthur! He was such a sweet guy- a good person. He was the grounding member of the Mystery Skulls, who’d been the best at easing her into… all of it. And he’d never been anything but kind to her. Even going as far as to let her stay in his room while she stayed in Tempo recuperating with his uncle. And now he was in that Hell too. And now? If he really did get himself- get Ricky out of this mess, she didn’t know how she’d ever repay him.

Pericles came to mind again. Looking so proud of himself for what he’d done to the one person who’d stuck by his side the longest. And she didn’t even want to imagine him doing to Arthur what he’d done to Ricky. Anger set her heart ablaze and that thought came again, with even more conviction than the first time: I’m going to kill you.

Suddenly the walls began to scream. Cassidy and Ricky both jumped and scrambled out of their embrace, searching for the source but there was none! The sound was all-encompassing, as if it was coming from everywhere! But then they realized-

Cassidy’s blood ran cold. She knew that scream. And when she looked over at Ricky, she knew he recognized it too.

Because it sounded like him. The real him. Shouting in agony, and begging for it to stop.

In an instant, Cassidy was on her feet and dragging Ricky to his as well. “Come on Ricky!” She said to him, but he was having a freeze response. Staring straight ahead, straight through her. “Ricky! Ricky, look at me!” Cassidy shouted above the din, shaking him slightly, and finally his eyes focused on her face. “We have to find the Mystery Skulls! Come on!” And then she was dragging him down the hall with her as fast as she could. Within a few moments, he was snapped out of it and running after her.

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💔♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

The paintings they passed along the way were either laughing or cowering in the corners of their frames. And as they ran the screaming got louder, and then the music began.

Erase me, just like before. But the house had never played the same song twice in a row, and this time the music was different. Corrupted. Jagged, almost. Like playing a scratched CD. Around the time the cursed cellos started, the walls began to shake.

When they ran into a swarm of Dead Beats, it became even clearer that something was very wrong. They were ignored when they tried to get the ghosts’ attention and hissed at when they tried to reach out. They were glowing more brightly than they’d ever seen them before and they were shrieking, pulsing, swelling and shrinking in size as they howled and scrambled along the walls like lizards, leaving claw marks in their wake. And they were all heading in the same direction. And as terrifying as it was, they followed.

They arrived right when the piano made its entrance in the song, at the same time as Mystery Incorporated, who had followed the Dead Beats from elsewhere. And they found the Mystery Skulls in what was- should have been an art gallery. The Dead Beats were swirling around the walls in that same panicked frenzy, not knowing where to go or what to do and in the middle of it were Mystery, Vivi, and Lewis. Huddled together staring at the paintings in utter horror.

Ricky, the fastest of them with Shaggy’s body, got there first. “Mystery! Vivi!” He shouted at them above the cacophony. “What’s-” Then he saw what they were looking at, and he let out a gasp of absolute mortification.

S̷o̷ ̷r̷i̷g̸h̴t̸ ̵n̵o̸w̷

He was in every picture frame. Convulsing on the floor in agony back at Destroido. It was as if the contents of the flashdrive had been hung up on every frame! Except- wait.

I don’t recognize that scene. I never would’ve gone anywhere without my coat. And why do I have a bottle of wine - oh dear God.

S̵o̵ ̵r̷i̵g̷h̴t̶ ̵n̷o̶w̸,̵ ̸o̴o̷o̴o̴h̵ ̶ ̷I̶ ̷c̶a̴n̸ ̵f̸e̶e̷l̷ ̵i̴t̵ ̵o̶v̷e̸r̸t̷a̸k̷i̷n̶g̸ ̵m̶e̸.̶

THAT’S ARTHUR!

At once he rushed to their side, dodging Dead Beats as they flew by his head. “Guys! It’s okay! Everything’s gonna be alright! Don’t look at that! Look at me!” Ricky shouted above the din.

C̶̮̓a̷͓͐u̶̗̚s̸̥̕e̴͈̊ ̷̞̕t̶̰̒h̷͖̿é̴͓r̴̘̊e̶̘͌'̷͈̽s̴̜̔ ̷̣̉n̴͈͑ó̵͖ ̸̞̓ŏ̸̹n̶̥̓é̴̯ ̷̍ͅȋ̵͔n̷͖̂ ̷̝͝t̸̮̕h̴̳͂ȉ̸̧š̸̤ ̴̫̋w̷̞̚ọ̷̅r̸̤͝ḽ̶̀d̶̪̉ ̶̦̿t̸̺̿h̵̯̉a̷͎͒t̷͊ͅ ̸̞̈́c̵̥̽o̶̯̚u̸͈͒l̴̟͊d̷̼̆ ̷̗̿t̷̙̒r̷̗̒e̶̯̅à̴̼t̵̙́ ̵̗̈m̸͚̐ē̸͉ ̸̟̍l̶̖͝i̴̻̎k̷̬͠e̵̟̓

When the others saw what he was doing they rushed to join in. “Come on, Mystery! Snap out of it! Do something!” Ricky shouted. But the kitsune was so big and utterly frozen with horror that no amount of shaking or shoving against the creature, even with Fred and Scooby helping, could rouse him.

C̶̨͎͆͒a̷͇̖̽̒u̷̘̲̚ś̷͓ȩ̴̋̎ ̵̹̀̃t̶̢̹̿́h̴̔͜e̷̬̐̀r̶̲̙̔̾ȅ̵̖́'̸̘͕̌s̴̖̩̄ ̷̻̗̋n̸̬̾͝ô̷͈͜͝ ̵̖͈̅̕ō̴̗ņ̴̇̏ẽ̵͖̟ ̴͖͑͐į̴̒̒n̸͙̊ ̸͙͈̅̊ẗ̸̖́̓ḩ̶̎͘í̸̲̜s̷̛̤ ̸̥͑̕w̴͓̄͝ơ̷̩r̵̟̅l̴̝͘̕d̸̠̐ ̵̣̦̚t̴̠̔h̷̞͛͜ả̸̳̖͝t̴̚͜ ̷̹̫͆̚c̶͉̈o̴̧͔͆͒ṵ̵̳̃l̶̪̘̀͝d̷̦̃͐ ̸̻͛t̷̼́ạ̸̡̾͘k̶̮̈e̶̲̜̋͐ ̷͚̉m̶͓̔́e̸͖̳͌̄ ̴̪̍b̴̞̗̀a̸̧͇͂̑c̴͕̆͒k̷̠͍̇͠

Desperate, Ricky looked over at Vivi but she was absolutely inconsolable. Cassidy, Velma, and Daphne were shaking her, blocking her view of the moving pictures with their bodies, to no avail. She was hugging herself, trembling, looking straight ahead with loud, ugly, gasping sobs bursting out of her.

C̵̳̫̪̍̕̕ä̵̞̲̚ų̸̂͋ͅș̶̡̘̔̌ę̴̺͊͂ͅ ̴̡͚͕̋̄t̵̺̹̯́h̸̡̺̐̍̀e̴̥͊͆r̴͈̽̐͜ë̵̹̭́'̷̛̗̖̱s̷͙̖̒ ̵̜̳̥̂̕n̵̰̣͒͠ö̷̜̣͑̔ ̸̥̮͆̏͝ȭ̷̬̦̠n̷̺̰̟͗̏e̷͉͂ͅͅ ̴̨̯̜̓͑͝i̵̳̟͐̕n̶̖̈͋ ̸̞̏́t̵̝͑ḩ̵̬͔͗̀ì̵͍͕͗s̴͈͕̑ ̸̛̤̪̄̇w̵͎̺̚o̸̼̰̊̌̕r̶͓̳̂̃͆ĺ̵͖d̸̲̮̬͗̍̽ ̵͈̿̇̀t̴̟̱̥̅͌h̵̫̞̰͗̇a̴͍͒ṱ̴̋͊ ̵̞͎̪̑̎̓ċ̷͈̖͍̋̀o̷͇͇̖͗̽͠ư̶̙͓̐͐ͅl̷̢̦͋̕͘ͅď̸̹̜̦͝ ̵͍͈̉̌̈m̶̮̏a̵̛̜͉̔̇k̶͍̳͉͒̊e̷̻̠͔̊̂̒ ̵̧̮̫̉ì̷̤̰̈́̍ț̵́ ̸͉͝f̷̛̜̰̦i̷͍͍̒͊t̴͚͎̃͌͝

And that left Lewis. The Master of the House was in his ghostly form, staring wide-eyed at his friend in pain with ugly black tears, like ink, dripping from his eye sockets.

C̴̛̰͈̲̻̽͆͆ą̶̛̠̘̘͉̭́̔̀̀ų̸̮͍͎͉̋́̌͘ͅs̵͙̒͐̐̒̏e̴̢̼̯̰̔̓̓ ̸̡̡̗̦̐ͅṯ̷̨͍̹͇͆͐͘̕h̶̤̋̃̈́̊e̶̲̫͖̒̚̚r̴̨͔̤̩͓̦̂̿̽͌ḙ̶͙̜́͑̀̐̿̓͜'̸̪̳͗̐͑̚s̴̜̫̾̐͘̕͝ ̶̧̈́̑͌͝n̶̛̖͔o̵̧͉̗̮̞̱̓̋̅͌͛̕ ̸͔̊͑̓̚͘͜o̵̬͙̦̎͝n��̬̲͍̝̄̒͛͒͘é̴̬̹͔͉̗̝̌͛̿͌̎ ̵̨͍͎̞̈́̍̋̃ḭ̸̃̓n̶̡͙̬͈̞̼̈́ ̶̠̩̩̭̟́́̇ẗ̶̢̘̫̬̝̲́h̸̲̙̭̮̙͂̈́ì̵̫̩̲͇̟́s̴̨̒̀̾͂͘ ̸͉́̀̀͗̍̽ẃ̷̤̘ǫ̵̛̪͈̹̤̏̎̚r̶̗͈̦̞̃͘͝ĺ̵̝d̸͕̋

“Lewis! Like come on man!” Shaggy was shouting.

Ë̶̢̦̪̺͍̥͉́̓r̸̜̫̮̝̟̲̓͐̏̚a̷̡̫̗̬͕̱̹̎͝s̵̢̙͙̦͂̓̃̌e̸̯̰͈͙͓͆̐̍͆̽̎̿ ̵̢̞̩͓̑͋̔̕̚m̴̼͓͚̭̫̓̾̀̽̃̒ȩ̵̜̀͌͗̕

“Like dude! You’re the master of the house! You gotta stop this man! Like snap out of it!” And in desperation, Shaggy slapped Lewis across the face so hard that his skull spun around like a top for a moment before the ghost slapped both sides of his face and turned his head around the right way. Dazed, but finally alert!

É̸̛̛̥͇̤͛̋̔r̶̠̯̹̠̹̈̈́͒̀a̶͉̣̝̣̝̾̂̐̊̚s̸̡̫̑̕ȇ̸̡̖̩́́ ̶̡͎͎̟̾̄̎͒̐́͜m̶̨͓̱͂̓͜y̸̹͍̐̈́̈ͅ ̶̣͉̃̂͗m̷̮̣̲̼͓̲͂̅̃̉̉͘̕ĭ̶̧͈̙͐̃̌̏̂̕ń̸͖̗̩̲͒̓̓̎͝d̵͇̠͂͆̃͛̚̕͠ ̴̢͊̊̏å̴̡̧͔̣̩̣̟ǵ̴̻̌̒̎̿̈̀ą̸̯̦̩̼͇̠͠ḭ̷́̌̇͛͗͊͠n̷̥̏́͌͘͠.̶̢͉̱̦̼̬͔̋̔͑̈́̎̽̓ ̶̡̟͕̠̓͐̒̽̋̈͠E̷̻̫̭̼͕̓̄r̶̮͍̅̑̿͐a̴̱͙̟͌͆s̶̹͖̙̖̭͘é̶̢̱̭̬͕̽͌͠͠ ̷̘͘͠m̶̱͖̔͒e̷̝̣͔̾̎̅̌̑͝ĕ̷͙͈̔̓̎͜ě̸̛͇̩̣͔̣̓͝͝ͅe̷̢͓̬̤͔̳͗̎͋̍͊̒~̶̹̩̻̬̊̿̈́̄,̴͓̏̃̒̉̑ ̷̣̯̱̦͌͗̍́̕͝ơ̴̢̟̐͠o̸̢̱̫̞̼͇̣͆̌̿͆ỏ̵͇̖͇͊ö̷̪̰̠̫̟̆̂h̷͇̱͎̰͇̥͒̂͛̓̆͝͠~̷̞͔̝͝

His eyes finally focused on Shaggy, then his gaze darted to Vivi and Mystery. Flames dancing across his shoulders, the ghost looked back at the paintings with fury.

E̸͔̗̪̣͚̤̗͎̘̯͍̣̿̓̓̒̕͜r̸̡̧̬̙̮̝̖̜̖͎̟͓̒̃̔a̷̧͚̭͓̭̻̎̔͆̿́̓̑̋̌͝͝s̴͍̹̯͔͓̙̮̹̓̈́͋̏̂̒͒̓͐͐e̸̝͓̼͑̏̃̾́̌̚ ̴̨͎̗̫̲̜͚͎̯̗̑̏̔̈́̃͑̃̓m̶̨͍̬͉̗̩̺̣͈̼̟̩̿̎̊̊̊ẙ̷̢̧̧̹̞͍̘͎̗͕̤̈̌͗̿̒̒͌ ̸̡͈̺̘͕̱̪̠͉̫͈͚̙̈́͂̔̈̿͛͌̐̉́͌̀́m̸̛̮̞̄i̴̧͕̥͈̠͍̯̘̠̟͈͎̤͎̓͒ǹ̸͍̟̗͐̅͑̿ͅḑ̷̧̧͙̠̠̗̹̥̪̙̇ ̴̭͈́̄̓ą̶̡͇̣̳̖̻̮͉̼̦̲͎͉̳̬͐̔̿͗̂́̈͛̕͠g̸̻̬̙̟̟̦��͖͇͎̮̑̔̍̑̐̿̎̉͌̾̇̈́ä̶̭͍̺́̊̍͋̋̌͑̆͋̔̾̃͌͝͝į̸̯̦̗͎̜̹̹͖̜̱͍̞̻͈͛̾̆͗̈́̈́̈̇͂͒̈̿̌͠͝͠n̷̢̰̹̭̗̹͙̤̬͕̳̼̺̮̺̂̾͆̇͆ͅͅ,̸̧̧̼̖̞̘͕̤̯̞̗̫̫̑́͐̈́́́̀̔̈̕̕͠͝ ̶̧̡̝͔͎̺͕̱̙͈͙̙̼͖̝̀̉l̷͉̬̩̥̍͌͋͘͝͝ơ̸̢̞̜̰͓͉͇͕͛͊́͊́̆̍̋̾̍̿̀͘ͅv̴̟̬̜͓̟̲̩̜̠̘̤̼̼̘̊̊̆̊e̶̡̨͙̰̘͎͈̝͉̦͕̱͍̾

“ENOUGH!”

There was an explosion of blinding pink light!

And just as suddenly as the screaming had started, it was quiet. The music was off. The screaming stopped. The Dead Beats vanished into corners and crevices unseen. The only sound was Vivi’s crying.

Mystery Incorporated, Ricky, and Cassidy slowly sat up from where they’d hit the deck, looking around partially surprised they hadn’t been torched by the pink fire. And yet none of them were burned and nothing was touched. The torches had been blown out, and the only light came from the cloudy sky outside the large window. Other than that the room was back to just how it should be, with macabre paintings of supernatural creatures and statues of the dead. And in the middle of it all, just as they had been, were the Mystery Skulls.

Vivi’s legs shook, then gave out under her as she sobbed. “Ar-Ar-Arthur! Artie….”

Lewis still looked absolutely stricken, that black fluid still leaking from his eye holes like tar. He made some move towards his girlfriend, “Vivi-” but he stopped, looking torn, and finally his eyes settled on Ricky. “ I’m sorry. I- it was an accident we- I- we didn’t mean to-... I’m sorry. I have to go!” And then in a flash of pink fire, he was gone.

And then there was Mystery. Once the images stopped, the kitsune was finally shocked out of his stupor and his gaze dropped to the floor. Large, fat tears dripping silently down his snout.

There was a sort of tension in the air, like the calm before the storm. Did the others feel it too? Either way, Daphne was the first to move. She dropped beside Vivi and pulled her into a hug, trying to comfort her, and Velma and Scooby joined in to do the same. Cassidy, Fred and Shaggy stood up as if they didn’t know what to do, and when Ricky stood up, something told him to be very, very careful.

“Mystery?”

“Ricky!” Cassidy hissed at him quietly, and when Ricky looked over at her he could see it on her face: she felt it too.

But he’s my friend, Ricky thought. And he remembered how Mystery had comforted him more times than he cared to recount. So he continued on anyway. With careful, deliberate footsteps towards the creature. “Um- are you-”

“He trusted you.”

That voice. Inhuman. Part growl, part hiss. The only time Ricky had heard anything remotely like it was when Mystery had lost his temper back in the conservatory. But this was different. It was so loud, so deep, so powerful that it froze Ricky dead in his tracks, reverberated deep in his chest, made his skin break out into gooseflesh. And when Mystery turned, a new set of crimson markings were on his face and the only thing in his glowing red eyes was pain and rage. Rage that raised his hackles and bared his fangs. Rage that sent pale mist rising from his shoulders and made his snowy coat glow like a silver flame. And Ricky realized then that he, in fact, had never seen Mystery lose his temper.

“Mark TRUSTED YOU with his BOY…”

Ricky’s heart seized for an entirely different reason. Mark? Mark Owens? Dad?!

But that train of thought ended when Mystery snarled,

“And now you DARE HARM MINE?!”

That was when Ricky realized he was growing. Seven tails lashed menacingly behind him as the kitsune swelled in size until he positively towered over them, almost incorporeal. Glowing, as if his body was made of smoke while curses rumbled out of him in Japanese, in English, in tongues that had never been spoken by man! Until finally Mystery raised his head to the ceiling and everyone’s hands snapped over their ears when he let loose a bellow that shook the house to its very foundations! Then as swift and smooth as the wind itself, the kitsune leapt over their heads and out the window with a howl and the piercing scream of shattering glass.

Ricky’s last glimpse of Mystery as he rushed to the window after him was a white blur vanishing into the dark mass of jagged branches surrounding the manor. And he was gone.

For a few beats of stunned silence, the only sound was Ricky’s heart pounding in his ears and the soft rumble of thunder overhead. Then right as the first raindrops were starting to fall from the dark sky above, Ricky shakily turned around. To Vivi, still sobbing on the floor. And to the others: Cassidy, Fred, Velma, Daphne, Shaggy, and Scooby. All staring out the broken window with the same question written on their faces: what do we do now?

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💔♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Thunder boomed overhead as the storm rolled in and began to unleash its fury upon the land below. Soon the rain began to fall in sheets, hiding the Earth in a gray haze of falling raindrops. But even still, as he ran the trails beneath Mystery’s paws were familiar. Smells and shapes, similar yet changed, that he’d seen a thousand times before flew by as he squinted through the rain. Leaping over roots, stones, and creeks. The forest whispered to him like an old friend welcoming him home, but Mystery was too far gone for niceties. Breathless and furious.

How could you? How could you? How could you?!

He trusted you. He trusted you. He trusted you!

With a roar, Mystery burst out of the treeline and was met with a familiar hillside. The familiar sound of waves crashing against the rocks. A familiar church silhouetted black against the sky as lightning cracked across the heavens behind it.

But the god this temple had been built for had long-since forsaken it, and a demon had taken its place.

Mystery’s ears laid flat against his skull as he let loose another otherworldly shriek and took off across the grass. So fast his paws seldom touched the ground. The same ground where all those years ago he’d sniffed and searched until he knew every blade of grass, and still he’d found nothing!

When he reached the top of the hill, the Old Spanish Church towering above him, Mystery exploded through the double doors and screamed, “YOU!”

But another crack of lightning was his only reply.

“You VILLAIN! You COWARD! Did his screams delight you?!” The kitsune roared into the storm as he paced across an empty floor, looking around at shattered stained glass windows and fallen arches.

“I thought I’d won when I denied you the blood of my children, but I see now that I gave you what you wanted! My old nemesis! Have you enjoyed these twenty years of free reign? Drawing power from the pain you’ve caused? DID YOU THINK THIS DAY WOULD NEVER COME?! Well hear me now you disgraced, twisted, FALLEN GOD! My vow was no bluff!” He hissed and spat, and though he received no answer, he knew that it could hear his every word.

“This has all happened before, but OUR story won’t end the way you want it to!” Mystery swore, as lightning split the sky and the wind clawed at his fur. “I’ve taken back Jasmine’s daughter and Mark’s son,” he hissed, chuckling darkly. “By your enemy’s blessing, I have your newest opponents at my side. You tried to kill my children when they were small, but now they’re grown and they are strong, strong, STRONG. Ready to fight you just as their predecessors did five hundred years ago, a hundred years ago, twenty years ago! But you won’t survive it this time. I’ve brought them back just as I promised I would.”

A mad grin split across Mystery’s face as he roared into the storm.

“-AND WE’RE GOING TO KILL YOU!”

Well that was intense. Not gonna lie - this chapter wasn't an easy one to write for that very reason. Ain't NOBODY having a good time right now. 🙁 (But I had so much fun with the formatting and fanart for this chapter for that very reason. 😜) Seriously I put my whole soul into the fanart for this chapter, and I'm so proud of how it came out!!! Good thing too, because I had two other pieces planned for this chapter but uh... they didn't work out. 😅 I have part of a plan for chapter 27 and a whole-ass plan for chapter 28. But plans can always change and no promises as to when either of those will be completed OR posted. Because yay me - I just started college classes again. (And that's not a complaint. Actually I'm having a great time.) So to say the least, I'mma be a busy bish. Please let me know what you thought of the chapter and art!

And of course! Here's the tag list for all the beautiful people who wanted to be notified when each chapter is up. If you want to be added or removed from this list, then feel free to DM and let me know!

@void-lioness @nikicherry1234 @angorwhosebabyisthis @lunasummers04 @orithereticent @mysteryskullsblog @the-moogle-of-your-nightmares @sfcabanasstarcgs

Chapters 1-25 of 'One of Us' are presently posted on Archive of Our Own!

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