#lewis;

There was a numbness that settled over him that started right after Lance kicked him out. Lewis possessed him, and as a result, Arthur passed out. Lewis broke something, or somethings, and when Lewis let him go, Arthur woke up to a shocked, angry Lance telling him to leave.

He’s never seen his uncle so disappointed and scared of him before.

First Vivi.

Now Lance.

Lewis was trying to ruin him, and he could understand that.

But, involving everyone else into his torment?

That, Arthur couldn’t stand for.

“Well, that went well.”

It was Lewis’ voice that cut through that thick curtain of numbness. Suddenly, white hot rage welled up in his chest faster than the tears in his eyes. Arthur stopped walking, whipped around, and glared at Lewis.

The ghost stopped and looked at Arthur quizzically. He was using his human projection. For some reason, seeing his human face made his anger only worse.

“Why are you giving me that look? Amigo, do you really---”

Something in Arthur

s n a p p e d.

Blood roared in his ears and, before Lewis could finish talking, Arthur took a step forward and punched Lewis right across his face. The ghost was too shocked to respond, and Arthur didn’t wait. He grabbed Lewis by his collar, shook him, yelled at him---

---Arthur didn’t even know what he was saying. He couldn’t tell if he was pouring out his anger and pain at him, or if he was just yelling hurt nonsense. His ears rang too horribly for him to even hear himself. 

In the corner of his eye, he noticed a glimpse of red and white--- Mystery?

Was he here?

---why wasn’t he doing anything?

Was--- was he just watching this?

Lewis stared up at Arthur with wide purple eyes, his left cheek reddening by Arthur’s sudden, harsh blow.

And just as quickly as it started, it stopped--- Arthur let go of his white collar, dropped Lewis on the ground, and walked briskly back out the door. When he heard Lewis stand up, Arthur stopped and whipped around. His expression must’ve been something vicious because Lewis immediately froze.

Oh, his hearing came back...

“D-do not follow me.” Arthur commanded, voice cracking with rage and emotion.

Then Arthur ran and slammed the door shut behind him.

He didn’t really know where he was running to.

Was he running away from home? Possibly. Vivi hated him. Lance hated him. Lewis obviously hated him--- what about Mystery?

---he probably didn’t care. Arthur felt his chest clench horribly when he remembered seeing the dog hiding in the hallway, watching as Arthur yelled and punched Lewis.

The rain helped blend his tears into the water, but the rainwater couldn’t hide the tightness embedded deep in his chest, nor could it help relieve the pressure that seemed to nearly crush his lungs.

He only stopped running when he could no longer see town. His feet were muddy, socks completely soaked, but he was used to that. Lewis gave him a lot of practice, throwing him into the dirt almost every night.

With a choked sob, Arthur collapsed against a large tree. The rain was bad now. It fell heavily, drowning all sound in the rush of water hitting the earth, the trees, the wood and everything else around him...

The sound swallowed up the heart-wrenching cries Arthur wailed out. 

And it even swallowed up the footsteps of a demon that he didn’t notice until it was right in front of him.

When Arthur finally noticed the pair of feet in front of him, he stopped crying, lifted his head from his arms, and slowly trailed his gaze up from the pair of dark shoes, up to dark colored pants, to a black jacket... and finally, Lewis’ face. 

It wasn’t Lewis though. Arthur realized that nearly right away. The face was contorted horribly two a twisted grin that not even Lewis could pull off. The teeth were sharp canines, and when he looked up, he found that its eyes were a sickening green instead of purple.

It was the demon from the cave, somehow possessing Lewis’ dead body.

Both of them knew that he should’ve been afraid. Arthur could clearly see the malicious intent on the demon corpse’s face, but no matter how hard he tried, he...

...just couldn’t bring himself up to care.

So Arthur only gave the demon a blank look, before dropping his head back to his arms.

“If you’re going to kill me, then just get it over with it. I don’t care anymore.”

The rain-filled silence that followed betrayed the demon’s obvious shock.

“Are you serious?” It sounded like Lewis, but its voice was more scratched, and just a bit more lower.

“Yes.”

Arthur waited for some form of pain to rain down on him, but none came.

The demon sighed. “It’s no fun if my target just wants to die. Takes out all of the excitement.”

“Oh, really,” Arthur responded dully, without much conviction in his voice.

There was another long pause that followed. What was this demon waiting for? If he was waiting for a funner chance to kill him, he was wasting his time–– no amount of time was going to make Arthur care anymore.

---so what was he waiting for?

Finally, the demon moved. Surprisingly, Arthur didn’t flinch when Lewis’ corpse sat down next to him. He slowly lifted his head, and suddenly felt his throat tighten when the demon’s expression was no longer one of malice, nor boredom, nor disappointment.

---why was it giving him such a warm look?

“...Arthur, right? It looks like you’ve been through a lot these past few days. I could see the burns through your shirt---” Arthur immediately hugged himself, trying to hide the offending marks. “---would you like to talk about it?”

He watched the demon warily. “...I thought you wanted to kill me.”

“I did, but like I said--- it’s hardly worth my time when the other isn’t stricken with fear or anger. It just gets boring. Now--- I have all the time in the world. I can lend you a ear.” He looked at Arthur carefully, and Arthur started to shake.

“Go right ahead. I do not mind.”

...should he really spill what happened to this demon? This was the demon that ruined his life. The monster that made Arthur kill Lewis in the first place.

Why should he trust it?

...and why shouldn’t he?

It wasn’t like Arthur cared about what happened to him anymore.

As long as he didn’t get involved with Lewis, Vivi, or Mystery ever again, then he didn’t care at all.

And so, Arthur opened his mouth... and told the demon, the monster that ruined his entire life... everything.

He started slowly, but as soon as he got used to talking, he started pouring like the onslaught of rain pounding down all around them. He talked about his childhood, his friendships with Vivi and Lewis, the fear that struck him when he realized that he not only liked Lewis, but Vivi as well, the anxiety, the depression, the cave, the search, the possessions, the burns...

And throughout the whole thing, the demon looked at him and listened with what looked so much like genuine intent and concern. Eventually, it made Arthur’s voice choke up, and he began sobbing again.

Much to his shock, the demon reached forward and stroked Arthur’s face comfortingly, before pulling him into a hug.

The embrace was cold (it was a dead body he was hugging, he should’ve figured) but this--- this was the first comforting act Arthur’s felt in what seemed like forever.

And not only that, despite the coldness, it felt like Lewis---

Arthur let out another choked cry, and buried his face into the wet shoulder as he was gently hushed.

“It’s alright, Arthur, it’s alright...”

He couldn’t respond much with his sputtering and babbling, but the demon nodded to his nonsense words anyway.

“---Arthur.”

The mechanic made a small noise of acknowledgment, eyes puffy and red from crying. It felt like his entire being hurt...

“...dear Arthur, would you... like to strike a deal with me?”

“It’s been awhile, lad,” Uncle Lance grunted out with that gruff voice of his. Arthur missed hearing it.

“It really has... I-I’m sorry, I would’ve came sooner, but...” Arthur winced internally. “...I... ended up... busier than I expected...

Uncle Lance slid a mug of hot chocolate towards Arthur. The younger mechanic smiled at the smell of his favorite drink, and lifted his head up to thank his uncle... but faltered when he saw his expression.

Why did his gut always have to be right?

“What’s wrong...?” Arthur pressed nervously.

There was a small sigh, before Uncle Lance folded his hands together and carefully placed them on the table.

“...I think I’d like to talk to you too, Arthur. I... have some questions...”

Arthur blinked, tilted his head, and waited.

It looked like Uncle Lance was having trouble articulating a response.

“...I’ve heard about what happened yesterday.”

The younger mechanic froze.

Lance looked distressed. “...lad, I’ve been hearing things lately that are starting to worry me. Your attitude’s changed, and according to Vivi, you’ve started picking up pranks and jokes that aren’t... very... harmless...”

There was a painful tightness in his chest. Half of him, the part of him that took full blame for Lewis’ death, told him to stay quiet and not protest, but the other half... some other half of him wanted to say something.

It was probably the more selfish half of himself (he wasn’t so sure) but eventually, the second half won out.

Arthur was so tired. He couldn’t keep up with this pretend game anymore. At first, he was okay with these possessions as long as Lewis got his revenge, but it was stepping too far. Exacting his revenge was starting to hurt and involve too many close people... Arthur couldn’t accept that, and yesterday had been the final draw.

He took a shaky breath. “...U-Uncle... I... I-I really need to tell you something. S-something... something r...really i-important...”

Lance looked conflicted, but he nodded. With a gentle prompt, he said, “Yes? I’m listening, Arthur.”

Arthur opened his mouth, wondering how he was supposed to start explaining this... this clusterfuck of a mess... until his eyes caught something outside the window.

His breath immediately caught in his throat, and a wave of panic so intense slammed into him so quickly that Arthur choked and nearly stumbled back.

“A-Arthur? Lad, what’s wrong?”

“L---” Arthur’s fingers dug deep into the edge of the table, the wood nearly denting underneath the vice grip of his metal fingers. He tried to force out the word, but his tongue seemed to be stuck on that one letter, and no matter how hard he tried to push himself to say it, he just couldn’t say it.

Why? Was the hyperventilating a factor? 

“Arthur! It’s okay boy, calm down--- can you speak? What’s wrong?”

Arthur scrambled off his chair and pushed himself to a stand. His flesh hand clutched tightly to the collar of his turtleneck, and suddenly, everything felt too hot, too dizzy...

“C-can we talk somewhere? Pl-please?” Arthur’s eyes wouldn’t leave the window, because outside, waiting for him with a dark glare, was Lewis.

Lance caught Arthur’s gaze and tried to follow it, but as soon as the older mechanic’s eyes fixed on the window, Lewis disappeared.

That only sent him into a worse panic.

“Somewhere else? Of course, Arthur... h-here, let’s take it slow and easy... you’ll be okay son...”

For one split second, Arthur briefly snapped out of his panicked state, stunned by his Uncle’s words.

Son?

His peripheral vision caught sight of pink mist, and before Arthur could even speak, he blacked out.

(( *LOUD WHEEZING* ))

(( I just had a headcanon thought. ))

(( Now, what if the gang tries to get Arthur back from Master? What if they succeed in destroying the demon and thus free Arthur from his Master’s reign, but at the cost of so many, if not all of his memories? The power that Master used on Arthur’s mind suddenly backfires, and Arthur can’t remember anything about Master, being a puppet, the mansion, Lewis being dead, his robotic arm, the cave... his most recent memories are of him and the gang, all happy and together, before everything got fucked up. ))

(( Which would’ve been somewhat fine and dandy--- not really, actually, and both Vivi and Lewis know that. Arthur comes home, expecting Vivi and Lewis to be dotting on each other in that familiar, silly way, only to find an unbearable tension between the two. Lewis keeps wearing sunglasses, even inside the house, he refuses to touch Arthur or hang out with him... when Arthur asks about the strange burns he had, his answer was that a cult did it. When he asks about the missing arm, Lewis says ‘a freak accident at the garage.’ And when he asks why he felt like things had changed, Lewis says, ‘you were in a coma.’ Arthur doesn’t... exactly buy it all, but... right now, he doesn’t have anything to contradict him... ))

(( Vivi’s mad that Lewis is lying to Arthur so much. “He deserves better than that!” And Lewis agrees, but he can’t bring himself to reopen those deep wounds. Now Arthur never flinched when Lewis was nearby, now he slept at normal, good times, and now he ate without reminder. It made Lewis feel horrible, whenever he saw just how happy his old friend was... and how he helped in hurting him. ))

Despite the barriers that were set up, and the memories blocked up from his Master, Arthur still felt a small painful tug when he saw the state his old best friend was in. There were dark circles underneath Vivi’s eyes, and the stress seemed to visibly weigh his friend down. And he couldn’t be for sure, but he thought he could see tears threatening to spill over, too.

Lewis seemed just as agitated, though it was difficult to see, since Lewis’ guise consisted of a pair of black shades that covered whatever stress that Arthur could’ve spotted from his eyes.

Though, Arthur was glad he couldn’t see Lewis’ face completely. Knowing that he wouldn’t have to look at those angry, purple eyes, Arthur was calmed by the obscurity.

Vivi gesticulated wildly as she spoke, her voice just as tense as her body language. Lewis answered back with something, and Vivi brought her hands to her face with a noise of frustration. Lewis tried approaching Vivi to comfort her, but she shouted, and Lewis immediately stepped back.

Arthur felt his shoulders relax--- it was good to know that Lewis would step back when Vivi told him to. Lewis never stopped whenever Arthur screamed...

...at least Vivi wouldn’t get hurt by the wraith.

Though, of course she wouldn’t--- it was always about her safety. To make sure Vivi was alright.

Now, Arthur couldn’t say that he was upset that they worked so hard to make Vivi happy... but the thought still nagged, and his bitterness still lingered.

Wow--- you’re really fucked up, aren’t you, Arthur? A selfish, fucked up mess.

Arthur’s fingers tightened around the gate he was hiding behind, and suddenly his head exploded with pain.

That was a sign he was pushing his memories’ limits too far. He had to leave.

His fingers loosened, and he pulled back to brush his hands off his sides. He glanced one last time at Vivi’s crying figure and Lewis’ uncertain, flickering form, then turned to leave them be.

They never noticed his presence, too caught up with their own emotions and argument.