#pre!puppet

It was a card from him, but he never wrote it.

...and it was really well written at that, too. So, Arthur didn’t... exactly understand why Vivi looked so hurt and furious over it.

Unless---

---oh.

No. No no no. Lewis did something, didn’t he?

“Joking about these kind of things isn’t funny at all, Arthur!” Vivi’s voice choked with emotion that only made Arthur’s chest hurt even more.

“I-I--- I don’t know what happened to you, Artie. You’ve changed. I know you like pranks, but---” She rubbed tears away from her face with her sweater sleeve. Her eyes were puffy--- she had been crying for awhile. “---y-your pranks have been getting worse... a-and th-these kind of jokes aren’t funny, Arthur. I-I thought you would know that.”

Arthur stared at his best friend, stunned.

What did Lewis do?

“So, how did it go?”

Arthur shrieked and dropped his screwdriver. The heavy tool landed on his foot, and Arthur let out another yowl of pain before pulling his injured foot up to cradle. The little contraption that Arthur was working on clicked for a few moments before halting to a silent stop.

Not once did Arthur shoot Lewis a look with even an ounce of malice in it, not since the specter came back, and even not since the torture started.

But today was different.

And Arthur was furious.

“You hurt Vivi, didn’t you?” Arthur growled.

Lewis shook his head. “No--- technically, you did.”

“You fucking possessed me!” Arthur shouted and shot up to his seat. “I-I don’t know what you did exactly--- I can’t even see what’s happening when you possess me anymore--- but if my guess is right, then what you did was fucking bullshit! I thought you wanted to protect her!”

The ghost didn’t have lips in this form, but Arthur could tell by the narrowing of his eyes that Lewis was frowning.

“I’m protecting her from you. I still don’t trust you, Arthur. I’m just trying to--- hey, where the hell are you going?”

Lewis took it too far. Arthur was fine when it only involved himself, but now that he hurt Vivi? He didn’t even care that Lewis used his image to do it--- Arthur was pissed.

He wasn’t going to take this anymore.

“I’m going home. Don’t you dare follow me.”

Arthur swept whatever was left of his project into a duffel back, then slung the bag straps over his shoulder. He shot Lewis one more glare, before leaving the room with a slam of his door.

Vivi noticed how Arthur’s shirts kept getting thicker, with longer and longer sleeves to cover his arms... she questioned it, and each time, Arthur shot her down with a nervous laugh and half-assed excuse of, “O-oh, I’m just... going for a little w-wardrobe change...”

Knock knock knock!

“Arthur Kingsmen!”

Oh--- speak of the devil, that was her right now...

...she used his full name, though. That couldn’t be good.

Arthur hastily pulled on a thick white turtle neck, checked to see if the hand-print mark on his neck was hidden, then quickly made his way to the door.

When he opened it, he came face-to-face with the blue leader with a cross expression and arms folded over her chest.

Arthur loved Vivi to bits--- she was his best friend. He cared for her so much, and often, when his self-doubt screamed at him, Vivi helped him soothe his fears. So seeing Vivi with any kind of disappointment on her expression directed toward him was always a blow...

...but something about today seemed particularly bad.

The mechanic steeled himself the best he could, smiled weakly, and said, “Hey there, Viv. U-uh... anything wrong?”

Nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight Vivi’s blue eyes watering over, nor the sudden slap across his face.

“D-do you think this is funny?”

At first, he tried to suck it up. Arthur’s mind still screamed guilt and betrayal at him whenever he saw Lewis, so, Arthur always ended up excusing Lewis for whatever mistreatment was thrown his way.

But this wasn’t like being thrown into a mud ditch. Arthur had a high pain tolerance, but that could only last for so long.

Lewis found ways to be sneaky. Patting the mechanic’s back or shoulder in a friendly-like manner, when in actuality, the ghost’s palm was scalding hot and enough to burn the skin underneath his layer of clothes...

When Lewis lashed out, he got sloppy.

Lewis with a temper as short as this is... terrifying.

It’s like walking on eggshells wherever I go.

Arthur could tell that Lewis was doing his best to make sure the burns didn’t end up with a hand-printed shape.

Lewis messed up two times.

Lewis had walked into his room a few minutes earlier while Arthur couldn’t sleep. He could never get good sleep these days--- he was far too fitful for that. The first few times Lewis did this, Arthur had went into a crying panic, apologizing and begging him to not possess him.

The first few times, he remembered each possession vividly. He remembered resisting each time despite knowing there was nothing he could do. But then, he eventually stopped fighting. And by the fourth possession, Arthur no longer remained conscious--- he only woke up when Lewis was done.

So each time, he woke up in the mud outside the mansion.

Bits of wet earth began to dry on his skin, cracking and flaking as he moved his arm and slowly sat up. It was a good thing he didn’t wear his metal prosthetic to sleep...

Arthur took a moment to take a deep breath--- he hoped the action would lift some of the weight crushing his chest, but the inhale just couldn’t reach the knot tight in his chest.

It was pointless.

He stood up tiredly and started his slow ascent back to the mansion.