Surprise! I fell in love with Mystery Skulls Animated and accidentally wrote an 11k one shot(?) for it, enjoy!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/38022838
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
It’s canon divergence where Arthur never got free of possession because the Reverb the demon guy just kinda booked it then later he takes Lewis’ anchor, trapping him too so now they’re stuck together. Feelings commence! Whole gang is here!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/11
Fandom: Mystery Skulls Animated
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Arthur/Lewis/Vivi (Mystery Skulls Animated), Arthur & Vivi (Mystery Skulls Animated), Arthur & Mystery (Mystery Skulls Animated)
Characters: Arthur (Mystery Skulls Animated), Lewis (Mystery Skulls Animated), Vivi (Mystery Skulls Animated), Mystery (Mystery Skulls Animated), ??? (Mystery Skulls Animated), Lance (Mystery Skulls Animated)
Additional Tags: Polyamory, Polyskulls with Lewis as the hinge, Dreams and Nightmares, Memories, Confrontations, uncovering the past, Near Death Experiences, tying up loose ends, Suspense, Eventual Happy Ending, Implied sexual content in one chapter, Original Character(s), Hauntings, Written Pre-The Future, Not Canon Compliant, Angst, Fluff then angst then resolution
Summary:
A sequel to the fic Find A Way.
It's been a few years since the events of Hellbent, and the gang has settled happily into their new lives as a throuple. With the events of the cave far behind them, the group easily falls into their comfortable dynamic and tackle life with a new excitement.
But life doesn't often come with a simple happily ever after, and Arthur balefully notices demons from their past coming back to haunt him -- literally, and one in particular. Only this time, he doesn't have to face them alone.
With their newfound peace on the line, the Skulls are forced to confront the past as they learn just who the monsters are and how life can come full circle.
Things to look out for: repression, being ignored, depressing thoughts(?), (please tell me if I missed one)
Random side note: This is kinda vent-ish but I’m pretty proud of it. This is the most fandoms I’ve included in a single fic! (Please forgive me if some details are wrong)
~~~
Yakko loved talking—that’s why his name is Yakko. Yet most people didn’t like him talking. They found it annoying and a waste of time that he could tell you every detail of something, especially if it was fictional.
So Yakko learned the hard way that there was times to talk, and times to stay quiet. Unfortunately, the times to talk are becoming less frequent.
Maybe he should change his name.
———
Logan loved the stars and knew almost everything about them. The problem was that he had no one to tell it to.
Roman was always too busy with work to listen, Patton wouldn’t listen, Janus would come up with some excuse to leave half way through, Virgil would pretend he forgot to do something and hurry off, and Remus would almost always interrupt with his own story.
And Thomas? Sure he said he’d look into astronomy, but Logan hadn’t heard anything about it since. Nico would probably listen, but he couldn’t see him so it was no use. So what’s the point of being logic if nobody listens?
Maybe he should change his function.
———
Arthur was a mechanic and he loved it. He could tell you every little detail about the way your toaster cooks your toast or the way your car moved. But no one was interested in it.
Sure Vivi and Mystery looked like they were listening, but he knew they weren’t. Lewis was a ghost and still held a massive grudge against him so he didn’t want to talk to him any more than he had to. He could always talk to his uncle, but that would get boring really fast.
Maybe he should find a profession that’s more interesting.
———
Ranboo was dealing with a lot. L’manburg blowing up and people finding out he was a traitor was just a fraction of it, but it was enough to stress him out horribly.
But he couldn’t talk to someone about it, or they’d be concerned—or worse, they’d pity him—and he’s not about to pile more stress onto them because he can’t handle a little anxiety.
So no, he had it under control. He had the books and his panic room to help him along with his pets. But their was always something telling him to talk to someone, even if he had no one to go to except maybe Phil and Techno.
Another question is would they listen? If they don’t, it’d be for nothing but if they did he might become a burden. Either way, it was bad.
Maybe he should just keep repressing.
———
“Hey, Yakko, you’ve been very quiet recently... Are you okay?” Wakko asked.
Yakko shrugged.
———
“Logan, why haven’t you lectured me yet? Are you sick?” Roman questioned, squinting at him.
Logan avoided his gaze.
———
“Arthur, you looked tired. Are you okay?” Vivi asked, looking worried.
Arthur sighed.
———
“Ranboo, are you okay? You haven’t said much since you came...” Phil commented, looking worried.
Ranboo scratched the head of one of Techno’s dogs.
thanks for your responses you guys! I really appreciate it, so this is official! I'll be working on making audio readings of msa fics! below is how this process will work, what i will/won't do, etc! so read on if you're interested!
okay!! send a link to the fic you want me to read. this can be a oneshot, a longfic, or even a small section of a chapter. for oneshots, it'll take me two weeks tops to get it done. for longfics, some chapters will come in slow or fast, depending how long it goes. once it's done, i'll send it to you through your IMs, if you want it up on your page.
to go with this, i'll make an audio review of what i think of the fic, with a transcript of what i said, all said and done in full detail! this is optional, of course. <3
for the podfic, there will be music and sound effects, but not loud enough to overpower my voice. just for an extra effect to bring more jazz in the recording, rather than silence. but if you don't mind the latter, then i'll do what you wish!
that's about all i can think of! now off to the rules and extra stuff!
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note: I'd like to repeat that this is Mystery Skulls Animated exclusive!! These are the only fics I will be reading out loud, because it's in the fandom I'm wholly invested in right now!! There's no podfics in this fandom and I'd like to add some!
1. I'll try to get the audiofic as done as quickly as possible, but sometimes work and irl stuff gets in the way of it. I'm sorry for this!! But don't worry because no matter what, it will be finished! At the very worst, it'll take me a month or two. I'll send you in what I have so far, until the rest of done, if you want!
2. My finances are great right now, so there's no money involved in this! This is just for fun, I'm happy enough to read your amazing stories! ❤ All I ask is, if you wish for me to send you the audio so you can post it on your page, that you credit me! Of course, I'll mention you, the author, if I post it up to my page, with a link to your blog!
3. I will read smut, even if it's the entirety of the fic, but it must be consensual and loving and not fall under the lines of incest, bestiality, rape, pedophilia, etc. I won't stand for that nasty stuff!
4. I will read darkfics, with gore and abuse and the like. After all, my fics are under the same category! But I will read serious takes and issues on it, and not anything that's intended to be cute or romanticized. Seriously, that's wrong.
5. As a small note, I'm not good at male voices, but I'll do all I can to make it somewhat believable!! And to make sure they're unique from one another (ie arthur's voices would be lighter than lewis'!)
6. As I said above, you can choose whether you want me to add music/sound effects to the recording or not! I can choose tracks or you can send me in some, and tell me where to place them (ie -insert sad song here- should play during -character crying in this paragraph here.)
7. This might be obvious but I'll say it just in case, but do not ask me to do an audio of a fic that doesn't belong to you. In other words, if you link me to a fic that isn't your's, and ask me to make a recording of it, I won't do it. It isn't your's, after all! Two ways around this would be if you already asked the person to send it to me and they say yes, or if they come to me directly about it and ask!
×××
That's all I can think of for now! I really hope I can make something amazing for you guys, once you send some in! This will be pretty fun for me and I'm sure you'd all be fascinated (hopefully!) with what I make for you! Please don't be overwhelmed by these rules, I assure you things will go smoothly so long as I have the time!
Arthur startles, although not as hard as Vivi was expecting. He recovers quickly—if getting startled over nothing slowed him down every single time, they’d never get anywhere—and twists around in his computer chair to look at her, giving her a Look. “Don’t sneak up o-on me like that,” he says. It‘s cursory; Vivi hadn’t even been sneaking.
She doesn’t deign to give it a reply, instead moving closer to lean her weight against the back of his chair. “Show me what you’re building!” she demands.
With an eyeroll, Arthur turns back towards the desktop. Splayed over the first monitor is—well, it’s Minecraft, but she can’t tell what it is, exactly, that she’s looking at. The second monitor is just as incomprehensible, although this she recognizes as one of Arthur’s little schematic pages.
“You’re in luck,” he’s saying, moving the avatar back a few steps to survey the project. “I just need to finish this line of r-redstone connectors, and it’ll be done.”
“Ooh.” She crosses her arms atop the chair and pillows her chin on them. Arthur takes another moment to skim his schematic before moving onto completing the final part of the construct. “What is it?” she asks after a moment of trying and failing to glean knowledge off of what’s on screen. He seems to be in the depths of whatever it is.
“You’ll see,” he murmurs. Vivi huffs and gently shakes the chair, but she doesn’t press. Arthur’s Minecraft projects are usually a blast, anyhow, and she doesn’t mind the wait.
“And... there.” Arthur grins, self-satisfied as he places down the final block and then steps back. Vivi doesn’t understand a single thing on screen. She shakes his chair a little more, impatient to see the aesthetic side of the final product, and Arthur huffs a laugh. “Okay, okay! Just... gimme a mo’.” He navigates his way through a maze of redstone and the various mechanics it manipulates, until he’s made his way out.
Vivi gasps a little once Arthur is hovering above the project. “It’s a piano!” she says, leaning closer to the screen. It fills the field of vision, massive in size, even when half-embedded into the ground. There are two levels to it, probably to save space. “It looks so cool! Wh—does it play anything? How does it work?”
“Well—I have to manually go in and program a song if I w-want it to do something different, but it’s already set up to p-p—set up to play.” He navigates to a short stone tower beside the massive structure and, with a click, the piano begins to play.
“Oh, wow,” she says. When she glances at him, Arthur’s entire expression is lit up. “Artie, this is so cool!”
It takes a moment, but, “Thank you,” he says. “I had to—there are a few schematics online, but I made this o-one mostly from scratch. It’s, uh. It took a w-while.”
“It’s so cool,” she insists. “I love it!”
“Thanks,” he repeats, a little quieter. The smile still hasn’t left his face.
“You should build it in the server.”
The smile disappears so quickly she almost gets whiplash. “Oh, no. No.” Vivi laughs when he shakes his head, eyes wide. “Vivi, no.”
“Arthur!” she whines. “But it’s so cool!”
“And it took me so long to do!”
“You have it all figured out, though.”
“But I don’t have the materials,” he says emphatically. Vivi giggles at his expression; he wrinkles his nose at her in response. “No. It’d take s-so long.”
“Ugh. Fine. You’re no fun.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles. There’s no bite to it. Vivi laughs, and he cracks a smile back.
Back at it again with this goshdang fic. It’s illustrated now because I love to suffer! Also ft. this song because I am a sucker for Adam Young and also it’s a love song about ghosts. What’s not to love?
once again, this was inspired by a post by @ectoimp which can be found here.
click here to read the first chapter.
It didn't take long for Lewis to 'wake up.' Only a few hours later, his body reformed from his anchor and he felt much better. He marveled at how quickly he regenerated for a moment. Usually it took up to six hours, sometimes more when he felt particularly drained like he did earlier, but this time he was only in his anchor for somewhere around three hours.
Lewis phased out of his coffin and asked a passing deadbeat what time it was. The little pink ghost mimed a clock's hands with its stubby arms, showing that it was approximately four o' clock. Lewis nodded to the ghost to dismiss it, but the deadbeat tapped his shoulder after he turned away.
"What is it?" He asked. The little ghost hid one arm behind its back and reshaped its antenna-like head protrusion into a familiar split cowlick. "Arthur? Something's wrong with Arthur?" Lewis questioned, alarmed. The deadbeat shook its head and mimed sleep before it shook its head again. "He's awake?" The deadbeat chirped happily and nodded.
Lewis thanked the little ghost and hurriedly floated up through the floors. Why was Arthur awake at four in the morning? Did he even sleep at all? Lewis worried for the blond's health. Arthur was usually so energetic, and with him on the road and running on only a few hours of sleep, he was bound to crash at some point. Probably behind the wheel of the van, with his luck.
Lewis arrived at Arthur's room and phased right into it without knocking. Sure enough, the blond was awake, sitting on the bed with his laptop in his lap. Lewis had thought the bags under his eyes couldn't get any darker, but they did.
"Arthur!" Lewis exclaimed.
The blond shrieked shrilly and practically threw the laptop at the trespassing ghost. "HOLY SHIT DON'T KILL ME!" He screamed.
Lewis easily caught the laptop before it could crash into him or the floor and instantly felt guilty for scaring Arthur, but he just couldn't help it. It was one of his ghostly quirks. Now, however, he wished he didn't have it. Arthur was panting and clutching his chest with his flesh hand, wide eyes wild and trained on the ghost in his room.
Lewis raised his hands in surrender and floated closer to the bed. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you, but you shouldn't be up! What are you even doing? You should be sleeping!" The ghost grabbed the comforter from the mattress and flipped it over Arthur's head. "Go to bed."
Arthur's fear and confusion gave way to anger. He shoved the blanket off and yanked his laptop out of Lewis's hand. "None of your business." He mumbled. He looked annoyed and defensive, but most of all he just looked tired. Arthur stubbornly opened his laptop again. "I don't know why you're so concerned. I don't sleep much nowadays and I'm perfectly fine."
Lewis would have raised an eyebrow if he had them, but he settled for floating over Arthur's shoulder to catch a glimpse of what he was doing on his laptop. The blond was quick to shut it and glare at the snooping specter, but Lewis had already seen what was on the screen. It was a word document, mostly blank, simply titled 'nightmare' and the day's date. The only word on the document was 'green.'
It was then that Lewis realized exactly why Arthur was awake and he wanted to bash his skull into a wall. He should have seen this sooner. Arthur was having nightmares. He was somewhat prone to them back when Lewis was alive, but he only had bad ones once or twice a week. Now, however, Arthur had the buried memory of that night in the cave under his belt. Lewis wondered what he saw. His best friend's death, or the loss of his arm? Lewis didn't think he wanted to know. What he did want was to hug Arthur. He wanted to tell him that everything was okay, but he couldn't. It hurt to watch his friend suffer, unable to comfort him.
"Nightmares, huh?" The ghost said awkwardly, fingers twitching where they rested on the bed next to Arthur's hand. He wanted to touch the blond. Hold his hand. Do something.
Arthur hunched his shoulders and drew his arms close to himself defensively, an angry and embarrassed flush on his face. "So what? I get nightmares, no big deal. I don't remember what they're about when I wake up, anyway." Arthur looked disappointed as he said those last few words, staring down at his laptop sadly. "I wish I did..."
He knew he was dreaming about what happened that night, Lewis realized. Arthur was trying to remember by writing down what he saw before it left him. It was obvious that despite all these months since the incident, Arthur hadn't learned anything important from his nightmares. Lewis wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or sympathetic.
He did know one thing, though. Arthur had to sleep. There were only a couple hours of darkness left, but Lewis could easily make the room perfectly dark after it was light out. Arthur needed at least four more hours of sleep, but he was likely to have another nightmare in that time. Lewis searched his mind for something he could do, and soon came up with an idea.
Back when he was alive, he would sing Arthur back to sleep when he had a nightmare. The three of them sleeping together in the van or a motel always helped keep the dreams at bay, but sometimes one slipped through. Lewis was always there to help him get back to sleep. Vivi, too. Obviously he couldn't do that now, but he could offer the next best thing.
"You know..." Lewis started. Arthur turned to look at the ghost sitting beside him. "The Deadbeats love to sing. I'll bet if you ask them nicely, they'll sing you to sleep. They would probably sing to you the whole night if you wanted them to."
Arthur looked thoughtful, and a bit embarrassed. "I'll, uh... keep that in mind." He stared at Lewis for a moment longer, brows furrowed and expression confused as if he were trying to figure out what the ghost was thinking just by looking at him. Finally, he gave a little smile and shrugged. "Vivi was right. You really are something. You have to be the strangest ghost I've ever met, but... I'm glad for it. Thank you- er, I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." Arthur looked even more embarrassed now.
Lewis internally panicked. What was he supposed to say?! "Ah... I- um... I don't remember my name." He managed to say. "J-Just call me whatever you like." Lewis retreated from the room after that with a quick, "Sleep. Please. Or I'll hide your laptop," said over his shoulder
He didn't notice the searching look in Arthur's eyes as he watched the ghost leave.
Once he was out of the room, Lewis quickly asked a couple Deadbeats to go in to both keep an eye on Arthur and to offer their talents. The little ghosts were ecstatic to have the opportunity to sing for someone, and happily phased through the door and into the blond's room.
Lewis stood there for a few minutes. Soon, the soft sound of music filtered through the door, followed by quiet singing.
"I saw a ghost on the stairs,
And sheets on the tables and chairs,
The silverware swam with the sharks in the sink,
Even so, I don't know what to think."
Lewis quietly chuckled to himself. It was ironic that Arthur would choose that song, but it was a good one to fall asleep to. Sweet with just a touch of melancholy. He remembered singing it to Arthur a few times before. Lewis felt a little spike of pain in his heart. How he wished to be the one singing to Arthur. It was an odd feeling, considering the fact that he was completely prepared to kill Arthur just the day before. Now, though, that rage was gone. Love and guilt filled the space in his heart where it once resided. Bittersweet.
Lewis reluctantly floated away from Arthur's door to check on Vivi. In a few hours, he'd start making breakfast. He was excited to cook for someone again, even if he couldn't eat what he made himself. It was nice to do something for his friends. Lewis sang quietly to himself as he floated through the halls of his home.
"I've been longing for,
Daisies to push through the floor,
And I wish that plant life would grow all around me,
So I won't feel dead anymore."
A few Deadbeats heard his song and appeared at his side, humming along. Lewis gave the little ghosts an affectionate pat. He didn't know what to do for the next four hours besides cook. When he was alive and had time to kill, he would clean, but the mansion was always spotless upon creation. He supposed he could see what he had to cook for breakfast. He hoped Vivi didn't eat all the food he had stocked up. The only reason he had it was for when he killed Arthur to 'protect' her and take her in.
Lewis winced at the memory and stopped singing. He felt so foolish, to think that Arthur willingly murdered him. He had put so much thought and planning into his scheme to kill the poor man to protect Vivi, yet Lewis didn't spare much thought on reviewing the actual events of his death. He just hoped he wasn't too late to mend their friendship.
Lewis shook himself out of his dark thoughts. There was no use in wondering, all he could do was try to make up for what he did. Starting with an amazing breakfast for his two friends.
He floated across the main hall and into the kitchen located under the arch of the left staircase that branched off of the main one. The kitchen was big, identical to the one back in Pepper Paradiso, with plenty of counter space and a large stove.
Lewis opened the fridge located next to the stove and scanned its contents. Vivi and Mystery had wasted a lot of food when they made those sandwiches the day before. He would know, he felt every piece of meat, cheese, lettuce, and bread pelt him as he flew into them.
Lewis groaned. He'd spent the last of the money he took from his corpse on that food. He refused to steal, and instead tried to make himself look normal and buy groceries for Vivi on his own. His disguise just didn't work. If he didn't concentrate at all times, his 'skin' would become transparent and show his skull underneath, and he couldn't figure out how to change his black suit into something more casual. Most alarming, his eyes were larger than they should have been, more like the sockets on his skull face. Not to mention the fact that they were pitch black. The only reason he was able to get the food in the first place was because he threw the money at the screaming grocery store cashier and ran away.
Lewis really didn't want to do that again.
Sighing, Lewis closed the fridge and left the kitchen. He couldn't start cooking right then, anyways. It was at least four hours, he hoped, until his friends would wake up. He wanted them to sleep longer, particularly Arthur, but Lewis knew that they didn't like to stay still for long. It was one of the things he loved so much about his friends.
Smiling internally, Lewis glided through the mansion, searching for something to do. He eventually decided to retreat to his 'room' and do some remodeling. There was no reason for it to continue to be dark and scary anymore. When Lewis was done renovating, the room was smaller and looked more like a bedroom than a crypt, but with a coffin. Lewis debated on whether or not to get rid of the coffin too, but decided against it. He was still a ghost, and the coffin was fitting. Lewis was allowed to be dramatic. It was just who he was.
The room still lacked that lived-in feel, though. Lewis chuckled a little to himself. Maybe lived in wasn't the best word. Even so, there were no personal items in the room at all. It was nothing like his bedroom in the apartment he and his friends rented back in Tempo. There were no alpaca plushies, or Sailor Moon posters. Lewis wondered what happened to that stuff after he died. He hoped they didn't get thrown away. He remembered that he kept some of his belongings in the van. Maybe they were still there?
A few minutes later found Lewis ransacking the van for his stuff. At first he didn't find anything. His box of things wasn't where it was supposed to be. In its place was a plastic tote of what looked like spare parts for Arthur's prosthetic. After he moved that, however, he found a small cardboard box, shoved as close to the van wall as it could be, completely out of sight.
The ghost dragged the box out and studied it. It looked like a shoebox with an old, worn label that Lewis couldn't make out. It was light, and he couldn't hear anything bounce around when he shook it, but Lewis was still curious about its contents. It was obviously hidden for a reason, most likely by Arthur. So, without wasting a moment longer, Lewis opened the box.
Lewis stared for a moment, confused. He pulled out a medium sized, well-loved Alpaca plush with soft lavender fur that barely fit in the box and held it in his hand. It was one of his favorite stuffed animals. He'd had it since he was a little kid. It was always on the shelf above his bed back at the apartment, never in the van. Lewis realized that Arthur must've taken it out of his room and put it here. Why?
Lewis returned his attention to the box, where a piece of purple cloth lay bunched in one corner. The ghost carefully sat the stuffed animal in his lap and reached into the box to pull out the cloth. He was surprised to find that It was one of his ascots. He owned a lot of them, but most were his favorite shade of purple. The one in the box was one such ascot, but it was rumpled and had what looked like oil stains in a few spots.
Lewis stared at the two items in confusion. Why would Arthur have these hidden in the van? Well, if Vivi saw them, she would surely ask questions that Arthur didn't want to answer again, Lewis surmised. If that was the case, why keep them in the van at all?
Upon closer inspection, Lewis noticed a few blond hairs stuck in the material of the alpaca's fur. With a pang of sadness, Lewis realized why Arthur kept the two items in the van. They were for comfort. Arthur likely tied the ascot around his own neck, or maybe his wrist, if the oil stains meant anything. It wasn't hard to believe that the blond would cuddle with the plush when he missed his best friend. Arthur was the one to give him the alpaca all those years ago, after all. It was important to both of them.
Feeling both touched and sad, Lewis collected his two belongings and left the van, sure to put everything back the way he found it. The ghost slowly made his way back to the crypt, and lovingly placed the stuffed animal on a conjured shelf right next to his coffin. The ascot he neatly folded up and slipped into the inner pocket of his suit jacket.
Somewhat satisfied with the crypt for now, Lewis returned to the upper floor and found, much to his dismay, that it was only five thirty. He'd never had such a problem with time before. Days always seemed to blur by when he spent them stewing in hatred. Now, he seemed to have greater awareness of... everything, really. All he could think about before was exacting his revenge and getting Vivi back.
Now Lewis was bored out of his mind. He searched and searched for something to do, when he heard the quiet singing of a passing deadbeat. Music! He hadn't written a song since he died! He could probably conjure a copy of his trusty violin and some blank manuscript paper. Hopefully the paper wouldn't vanish forever when he deconstructed the house.
It took a few tries, but Lewis was able to create a working violin. The paper was easy to make, but now that he had everything he needed, he was stumped on what to do next. What kind of song did he want to write? He wanted it to be happy and bright. Then, Lewis remembered that he already had an unfinished song he'd started a few months before the cave fiasco. It had been coming together nicely, a sweet little song of love. It wasn't even for Vivi, specifically. It was for both his friends.
Lewis smiled to himself and tried to call up the manuscript for the song, and was pleased when he was able to conjure a perfect copy. The ghost gathered up the papers and his violin and sped off to find a secluded room where he could work without worry of waking his guests. He knew the manor like the back of his hand, so it didn't take long to find one such room. Once he was there and ready to play, he ran into a small roadblock. He had no chin or neck to rest the violin against. It took a few minutes of fiddling and altering to figure out, but Lewis was able to hold the violin just under his jaw. It was awkward, but he was determined to make it work. With no further delay, Lewis happily began.
As he fell into the familiar routine of tuning his instrument and testing out what notes fit best, a pleasant warmth began to bloom in his chest. It wasn't like the blistering heat from the fire of rage that used to drive him. This was a soft and controlled flame that made him feel warm all over. He was happy, the happiest he'd been since he died. It made him feel more alive somehow.
As Lewis played, he didn't notice the colors of the manor become brighter, and the dim halls become less dark and foreboding. He didn't notice the gaggle of happy Deadbeats that joined him in his song. He didn't even notice the deep crack in his dull anchor recede just a little, and its color brighten to an almost turquoise glow.
Lewis let himself get lost in his music, twirling to and fro gracefully. All else fell away. It felt so good to let everything go and just enjoy himself. He'd almost forgotten how playing felt. He didn't realize how much he missed it until he relearned what he was without. It seemed he was rediscovering a lot of things in the past several hectic hours. It was confusing, and he still had some conflicting feelings, mostly about Arthur, but even those were beginning to fade away. Despite the confusion, despite the sudden changes, despite the guilt, Lewis knew that what was happening was good. It was good for him, and it was good for his friends.
The ghost worked on his joyful, lilting melody for what felt like mere minutes, but must've been hours, because one of the Deadbeats tapped him on his shoulder. Lewis was startled out of his concentration and lowered his violin to look at the little ghost questioningly. The Deadbeat trilled and flew over to a shuttered window that definitely wasn't there a minute ago, and flipped up the cover. It was bright and sunny outside.
"Oh, dear." Lewis said as he flew over to the window and checked the position of the sun. It looked to be around seven or eight o' clock, give or take. He wasn't very good at telling time that way. "I'd better get to making breakfast before the others get up."
Lewis hurried to the kitchen. He felt sad to leave behind the pure joy he felt in that room, but he reminded himself that he enjoyed cooking just as much as he enjoyed playing his violin. Even though Vivi usually made dinner when they were home, Lewis's cooking was saved for special occasions when they could splurge on the more expensive ingredients he was used to working with. He loved what he did. It was just another thing he needed to rediscover.
However, as Lewis opened the fridge to gather ingredients, he hesitated. It had nearly been a year since he last cooked. Lewis was worried he wouldn't be able to even do it anymore, considering his sense of smell and taste were non-existent. All of his senses other than hearing, sight, and touch to some extent, were dulled to a shadow of what they used to be when he was alive.
Lewis shook off those thoughts and rekindled his determination. He had to be optimistic. This wasn't for him. This was for his friends. Even if he couldn't smell or taste what he was making, he would do his best, and that was all that mattered. Hopefully the end result was palatable.
The ghost didn't have much to work with, only a carton of eggs, a gallon of milk, raw bacon, a whole ham, and some vegetables. Things that Vivi couldn't or wouldn't put in a sandwich, obviously. Though she probably would have tried anyways. She got food poisoning on more than one occasion from experimenting with meals.
Lewis considered what was left in the fridge and ran through his arsenal of recipes for something suitable. Omelettes came to mind. Or maybe a breakfast quiche. Arthur didn't much care for most quiches, though, despite enjoying other foods with the same ingredients. Arthur wasn't a picky eater, though Lewis questioned his friend's palate sometimes when it came to a certain favorite pizza, but even he had some dislikes.
Lewis pulled out the carton of eggs, cherry tomatoes, a bag of spinach, the bacon, and a half-empty bag of shredded cheese. He noticed with some amusement and slight disgust that he was down two sticks of butter. Who put butter in a sandwich? Vivi and Mystery, apparently.
Lewis deposited the ingredients onto a counter where he could work and ran through the recipe in his head. As he began preparations, Lewis quickly found himself falling back into routine. All of his previous worries left him, and he worked with confidence as soon as he started.
It felt just as natural to simply create the utensils he needed as it was to use them. It was just like what he felt when he played his violin. As Lewis chopped the spinach with practiced hands, he felt everything come back to him. The joy of cooking he'd completely forgotten about in his previous rage now filled him with warmth and contentment.
Lewis prepared the spinach and tomatoes with ease before moving on to cooking the bacon. He cut up a few strips and put them in a skillet. He paused above the stove, and eyed the burners. Curious, he decided against using them and instead simply held the bottom of the skillet and let his hand ignite with spectral fire. Lewis laughed when the bacon began to sizzle. He was his own personal stove. He couldn't stay like that long, though, because he needed two hands to beat eggs, so he lit one of the burners and let the bacon finish cooking there.
While he waited, Lewis cracked eight eggs into a bowl and whisked them. It was at this point that the ghost began to hum, which in turn attracted a pair of wandering Deadbeats. The little specters curiously watched their keeper cook, as they'd never seen him do it before.
Lewis paused in his humming and said, "can one of you grab me the salt and pepper shakers?"
The smallest Deadbeat of the two happily did as asked. Lewis was bemused to find that he now had a sack of flower sitting on his countertop. He stopped beating the eggs for a moment, took the bacon off the stove, deposited the meat onto a plate and poured the grease into a bowl before he addressed his charges.
"You guys don't remember what salt and pepper is?" He asked them. The Deadbeats shook their heads in reply. Lewis smiled sadly. "I guess it makes sense. Most of you were almost faded away by the time you found me." He sighed. Lewis rolled up his suit sleeves and turned to the gaggle of ghosts floating in his kitchen. "I guess I'll just have to teach you. I could use some help around the kitchen." The Deadbeats looked absolutely thrilled and immediately began to sing and twirl around the room. Lewis knew that he would regret this decision later.
With Lewis attempting and failing to instruct and command the little ghosts, the simple task of making breakfast became a whirlwind of flour fights. While Lewis quickly put a stop to the fight by telling them to sing a song to direct their boundless energy elsewhere, the mess still remained.
They were happy to sing, and chose the song that was sung to Arthur. It was odd how the Deadbeats seemed to have a hive mind when it came to music. If Lewis knew a song, so did each and every Deadbeat, and if one was singing, the others knew and would begin singing the same song even if they were on the other side of the mansion. While the ghosts sang happily, Lewis quickly cleaned the kitchen. He just couldn't stand cooking in a mess.
It didn't take Lewis long to clean, and went right back to work on breakfast with his Deadbeats when they began the next verse. It seemed now that they had a second outlet for their energy, the little ghosts were much easier to direct. Lewis put one to work on preheating the oven, while he explained everything he was doing to the other, knowing that if he taught one, the rest would know.
"See, salt is a seasoning, and pepper is a spice. Technically spices are also seasonings, but salt isn't a spice. Anyway, with seasonings, especially spices, you only put in a little, unless you're trying to make something spicy. Get it?" Lewis looked up from his pepper shaker and bowl of eggs at the Deadbeat to see if it was listening. The poor thing looked confused. Lewis chuckled and put away the pepper. "You know what? Disregard all that. Just remember that when you're helping me make food for Arthur, don't use a lot of pepper. Arthur can't handle anything spicy." The Deadbeat seemed to understand that, and nodded excitedly.
Lewis beamed proudly at the ghost before returning to the bowl of eggs and explained the recipe to it. He was just about to add some of the leftover bacon grease to the eggs when he felt something tap his shoulder. Lewis just barely stopped himself from dropping the bowl in surprise and turned around quickly. He saw the other Deadbeat floating behind him.
"What is it?" He asked. Then, he noticed the lack of music. "Why'd you stop singing?" The Deadbeat cooed and tapped Lewis on the forehead. "You want me to sing with you?" The Deadbeat nodded excitedly and let out a happy trill. Lewis smiled internally. His little charges always seemed to enjoy themselves most when their keeper sang with them.
Lewis chuckled and finished adding the grease to the eggs and mixed them. "Alright. You guys must really like this song. Where were we?" The ghosts began to sing once more, and Lewis chimed in. His deep baritone melded well with the Deadbeats' higher voices. His heart pulsed to the beat, a tiny crack just barely visible against its happy yellow glow.
"I'd rather waltz than just walk through the forest," Lewis sang joyfully, swaying from side to side as he whisked the mixture in the bowl. "Someone grab me those sauté pans." He said between lines, gesturing to the mentioned pans that hung above the stove.
"The trees keep the tempo and they sway in time,"
Lewis accepted the pan and poured half the contents of the bowl into each. He didn't bother with the stove and simply used his spectral fire again. He rested a pan on each of his flaming palms and carefully danced around the kitchen with the singing ghosts.
"A quartet of crickets chime in for the chorus,"
Lewis felt light and warm, as if he were a spark drifting up from a fire. He'd missed this. Missed feeling so free. He didn't realize how stifling and restraining his rage was until he let it go. If he could still enjoy things like music and cooking and the company of his friends... maybe being a ghost wasn't so bad. It wasn't great, but he could live with it. He felt more alive than he did before.
"If I were to pluck on your heartstrings, would you strum on mine?"
Lewis returned to the counter with the pans and spread cheese, bacon, spinach, and shredded cheese liberally over the half-cooked sheets of egg. He conjured a spatula and folded the omelettes in half. Both pans went into the oven.
As Lewis closed the oven door, he took a step back and beamed down at the two Deadbeats excitedly watching the omelettes cook through the glass. He felt proud of himself. He didn't need to taste or smell anything. He just needed to rely on his instincts and visual cues, and he could cook just as he used to.
"You've still got it, Lewis Pepper." He declared.
Then, the tiniest of gasps from behind him made all of Lewis's elation and warmth leave him in a rush. The ghost spun around and froze at the sight he was met with. There, in the doorway of the kitchen, stood Arthur.
Sometimes You Just Gotta Sit In Traffic // Mission: Semi-Automatic
whats up I actually finished another chapter ... damn..... who is she
check it out on ao3!
shoutout to my lovely mutuals who cheer me on with my writing, i promise things will start happening soon.
Annabeth didn’t wake him up the next morning. It had been hard enough for them to go to sleep. Percy only slept alone, and having someone who was almost a stranger right beside him as he slept wasn’t exactly a comforting thought. It wasn’t like he could hold her, that would be weird. However, Annabeth had fallen asleep almost as soon as she crawled into the sheets. Percy was glad that his partner was a stomach sleeper, though, because her face turned away from him as she snored into the pillows.
It took Percy what felt like hours to get comfortable, and only a few minutes to fall asleep afterwards. The night felt too short, with a sleep that wasn't quite deep enough. What only felt like twenty minutes was roughly ten hours.
Percy was up first, casting a glance at the blonde beside him. She was still fast asleep, looking peaceful. It didn't take much for Percy to know she needed whatever sleep she could get. The strap of her shirt migrated farther down her shoulder, exposing scars that expanded across her skin in a lightning strike. He noticed smaller, fainter scars closer to her hands. Images flashed in his brain of wristbands or bracelets and long sleeves. One scar wrapped above her left shoulder, and Percy wondered how he hadn't seen them before. He assumed yesterday was due to her jumpsuit, which was so bright it made you look away. The event that started this mission, however, made less sense. Makeup, maybe, but then Percy wondered how her scars slipped by him when he taught classes. The burn in his gut didn't go away when he saw a scar poking from under the hem of her shirt. Percy felt a protective flare of anger in his chest, needing to know who hurt her.
Annabeth stirred, and Percy held his breath. The blonde let out a sleepy grumble and settled, cueing Percy to let out a deep breath. He took the moment to slowly get out of bed. Percy pulled on a shirt and rubbed his eyes. A soft yawn broke the silence as his feet dragged across the carpet.
Breakfast was cereal, and he only had a couple of minutes to himself before Annabeth joined him.
“G’morning.” She still seemed half asleep, leaning against the counter as she brewed coffee.
“Good morning.” Percy gave her a small smile, which Annabeth returned.
The air between was an unfamiliar weight that almost made Percy forget about eating. It was impossible to tell if Annabeth felt it too, but it was ridiculous to assume that she didn't. It was safer to assume that she did. By the way her hair hid half her face, Percy knew she felt it. The images of her scars gnawed at his brain, making him wonder what her past could be.
It wasn't until then that he realized how little he knew of her. All that he knew was that she didn't talk about her past, kept her relationship with Luke a secret, and was a workaholic. Percy imagined some scars had to stem from missions, but others couldn't use the same excuse.
“How’d you sleep?” He settled for that question. Small talk was frustrating, but neutral.
“Good, actually. I needed it,” She answered, “You?”
Percy couldn't miss the air of relaxation slowly fading from her.
“I’m used to sleeping alone, just something to get used to.”
The wave of anger, the protective instinct he had towards Annabeth was useless. They weren't friends, not really. In fact, they barely knew each other. Not to mention how Annabeth can clearly handle herself, but nonetheless Percy felt the pang of anger.
Annabeth didn't see how he felt, choosing to focus on coffee. Percy didn't believe that she didn't see it. Sure, he was guarded, but there was a certain privacy about Annabeth that let him be a little freer. Maybe it was that she was harder to read than he was, and Percy had grown up to see what the twitch of an eyebrow meant.
“I like fluffy couches,” she said suddenly, “They bigger the comfier. Usually they're the ugly ones and I never spend enough time at home to need a soft couch anyway. They can be good though. And bay windows are great. I liked to listen to audiobooks and sit in them.”
Percy didn't understand why Annabeth chose to share that, maybe it was the large empty space where a living room should be. It didn't matter, because it was the kind of small and near useless information that made breakfast comfortable.
“I never had a bay window. I’d stack little cacti on my windowsill. They all had names.” Percy wondered if Annabeth would find it stupid that he would name a cactus. When he looked at her, a smile tugged at her face.
“Really?” Her voice sounded soft, the kind of morning voice that made his shoulders relax.
“Yeah, all names after Disney characters.” Percy felt a smile tug at his own lips, watching Annabeth try to hold back a giggle. “My favorite one was kind of purple- named it Buzz.”
Annabeth snorted, her mouth spread in a wide smile. They both laughed, and the way Annabeth’s smile stretched let Percy believe that she wasn’t as serious as she looked.
The warmth in her eyes reminded him of his mom, in some weirdly comforting way. It was like warm Sunday mornings when they’re watch cartoons in their pajamas despite being far too old to watch cartoons. It felt like when his mom let him tag along to work and help her put candy into little bags, or arrange decorations in the candy shop windows. It felt like the sigh of relief his mom would let out when Percy rested his chin on her head, letting her talk about how hard to write the chapter was, and he’d reassure her that she was the best writer he’d ever heard of. It made his heart ache, and his hands itched to call his mom.
“Jackson?” Annabeth seemed cautious now, and Percy realized his expression must’ve changed.
“Sorry, just missing home.” His words trailed off. A heavy air hung between them.
“I stopped missing home a long time ago.” Annabeth was quiet, but her words echoed in his ears.
Percy watched her gaze lower back to her coffee mug. Silence fell over them, and Percy searched for the right words to say. It was nice, when Annabeth talked to him. As long as he’d known her, there was always a guard up. When she was just a student, it was her gloves or a mouthpiece. She’d talked just enough to be polite to her peers, and left. When she recruited Percy, it was looking at an image of who she wanted to be, he could feel the disconnect. Annabeth surprised him by turning the formalwear of their first mission into her own form of armor, a new glittering persona for her to show off to seem human.
Now she just seemed sad, lonely, and distant. If he reached out to touch her, sure, he’d touch her, but Annabeth was still far away. Talking about ugly couches let her guard come down, and Percy wanted that back. Percy found himself speaking again.
“You know, when you laugh, you’re not as,” He paused, knowing he wasn’t comforting, but not wanting to insult her, then decided she’d respect honesty, “scary.”
Her eyes snapped up to meet his, and Percy knew he used to right word. Annabeth’s eyes were an ice cold grey, sending chills down his spine. Behind the coldness, however, Percy say a hint of shock play across her face.
“Scary?” Her voice was still soft, but she looked at him warily. It was as if Percy were the scary one.
“Yeah, I mean, you always look ready to murder someone and that is generally accepted as scary,” Percy said.
Annabeth scoffed, but she looked ready to murder Percy.
“That! Right there! The thing your face is doing? Murder face.” Percy threw his hands up, her reaction only proving his point.
Then, Annabeth laughed, her murderous look dissolving into and wide smile. Percy felt his own face break into a lopsided grin as she laughed at him. Annabeth had to set her mug down, trying to catch her breath.
“Oh my god, Jackson, you’re the scary one!” She brushed hair from her face, still trying to control her laugh.
Percy burst into a laugh as well, shaking his head in disbelief. He wasn’t the scary one, he could barely tumble through a sentence let alone intimidate someone. Annabeth was obviously scary, her dark eyes and easy access to fiery glances.
“What?! No way.” Percy shook his head, Annabeth’s laughter barely controlled.
“Seriously? You don’t see it? You’re tall, strong, and charming enough that you could talk your way out of a firing squad. That’s scary, Jackson. You’re almost on par with Piper,” Annabeth said.
Percy blinked, “I’d talk my way into the firing squad, actually.”
Annabeth grinned, “I can see that, too. You are a tad too honest.”
The air settled into a comfortable silence, both of them settling into what would be a long partnership. They were off to a good start, Percy thought. They could be friends, this may really work.
“Ok, Rookie. We’ve got a international arms dealer to meet with,” Annabeth said, setting her mug in the sink and filling it with water.
Percy ate the rest of his breakfast quickly, trying to finish by the time Annabeth walked back into their room to get ready for the day. It felt odd, sharing a room with her. They barely knew each other, and it felt even more out of place without actual furniture. Percy washed their dishes, humming to himself as he thought about where he was. A foreign city, a three hours time difference between him and his mom, stuck with a girl he barely knows where he might die.
Annabeth entered the kitchen, settling next to Percy to dry the dishes. She looked at him, then set down the bowl.
“Get dressed, this apartment is too empty,” Annabeth said. Percy nodded, taking his leave to get dressed in regular clothes.
“How are we-” Percy began to shout through the apartment.
Annabeth cut him off, “A car, Jackson. We have one, hurry up!”
Percy grumbled something as he hurriedly brushed his teeth, pulling on his sneakers quickly before joining the blonde at the door.
“Hurried.” He opened the door, following her out to the elevators.
The car in the garage was something he could see Annabeth driving. A black Jeep, hard top, black leather seats, and black rims. Annabeth unlocked it, sliding into the front seat.
“Who said you’re driving?” Percy slid into the passenger seat, not really annoyed about riding along. Honestly, he just wanted to give his partner a hard time.
“You didn’t know we had a car.” Annabeth smirked, the engine roaring to life.
“Ha ha. Very funny.” They drove off, trying to weave through traffic.
The lack of taxis was different, but the fact that cars might as well have been parked was similar. There was a lack of car horns blaring, but the sun beat down through the windows as they drove to the city over. Percy just sat in the car, taking it all in. There wasn’t too much to see, after all he was stuck in a car, but the clashing of old and new buildings was interesting. The drove past tourist attractions and took a packed freeway, leaving the dirty Hollywood streets behind.
“Movies make it seem...” Percy trailed off, trying to find the right word to describe the movie facade the city is painted in.
“Beautiful?” Annabeth glanced over, “It is, in a way. A lost of those buildings are older than us, but some of them are brand new. It’s cool, seeing how the same work still holds up.”
Percy agreed, because that was true. Some of the buildings are iconic, but it still seemed dull.
“Yeah, but it feels dull,” Percy said.
“Looks like it didn’t take long for the city to beat the optimism out of you,” Annabeth laughed, and it made Percy let out a huff in agreeance.
“Just get us to Ikea, Chase. I’m tired of being couch-less.”
