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“Any last words before I send you to the great beyond, demon? Remorse, maybe?” The black-haired man – a ghost hunter, judging by the equipment and attitude – is searching through the case he’s brought with him, probably for some weapon that’ll work against him.
Lewis slams his shoulders against the invisible barrier, to no avail. “I’m not the spirit you’re looking for,” he starts, trying to reason with him. “I don’t even live here!”
“Quiet!” he snaps. “You really expect me to believe there’s a whole different spirit living here?”
“Not anymore! There was, but I already got rid of it! At quite a lot of risk to myself, too!” He slams his hands against the barrier, but the salt line is impenetrable.
The ghost hunter just scoffs, standing up with something in his hand. “That’s enough out of you, I think.”
The first splash of holy water hits him, knocking some energy out of his form, and then… he thinks there’s chanting happening, but noises are already indistinct. The world seems to crowd around his head, draining all his energy and making it impossible to see or hear anything.
He knows from experience – on both sides of this – that the worst that’ll happen to him is he’ll be forced back into his anchor, but still, he’d really like to get out of here before that happens and his physical soul is left at the mercy of this- bastard.
He hears an indistinct voice, and then the oppressive blanket of static fog is abruptly lifted from his head, and he snaps back to his surroundings. He still feels weak and dizzy, but his senses are at least returned.
The ghost hunter is looking away from him now, staring back at the entrance of the room and… Arthur, floating there.
“So there is another spirit here,” says the ghost hunter, sounding little more than mildly surprised. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with you first.”
As shapes become more distinct and less foggy, he realizes that his expression isn’t the usual scared and confused, like he’d been expecting. Arthur looks… angry.
When he speaks, his voice is entirely different than the voice Lewis has grown used to, too, lower-pitched and almost growled. “What… do you think… you’re doing to him?” he says slowly, haltingly.
“Precisely what I’m about to do to…” he trails off mid-sentence, staring at the room around him. Lewis can’t blame him – he’d be doing the same thing. The lights have started to dim, and unconfined electricity is sparking around the edges, matching that growing around Arthur.
The ghost hunter kneels for just a moment and grabs something else from his case – a vial of holy water, Lewis recognizes. He tosses it at Arthur. It’s caught in one of the swirls of raw magic, which vanishes with it… and is replaced in mere moments. He sees the hunter’s demeanor shift with the realization that his weapon did absolutely nothing.
“Now hold on. What are…” he’s backing up now, hands out in front of him, like that’ll protect him from the lightning crackling on the ceiling.
“Don’t touch him,” Arthur hisses, and an arc of electricity scores the wall just next to his head. “You can’t touch him!”
The barrier around Lewis flares to visibility and then shatters in a shower of sparks, and suddenly he’s able to fly away from the approaching hunter. Not that he even seems to notice he’s there anymore – his attention is completely focused on Arthur, and the veritable storm igniting in the center of the room.
This amount of weaponized power is… Lewis tries to think back, to all the other times Arthur’s been endangered by whatever spirit or monster he’d wandered into the path of that time. But… he can’t recall him ever even fighting back, let alone… this. He had no idea he was even capable of something like this.
“Get out!” The voice seems to come from everywhere, and brings with it a wave of static that makes Lewis shiver. “Run! I won’t give you another chance!”
The ghost hunter abandons his tools and dives for the other door, slamming it behind him.
For a moment Lewis expects Arthur to give chase, to tear the door off its hinges and pursue him. But… he doesn’t. In fact, almost as soon as the door closes, the electricity vanishes and the lights go back to their normal strength. Arthur wavers and drops a few feet in the air, expression going blank.
“…Star?” Lewis calls cautiously, catching himself at the last moment before he used his real name.
“Jol...?” he echoes. His head turns to the direction the sound had come from, but with the lack of pupils it’s impossible to tell if he actually sees him. “You… are you… okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Oh,” he answers, and then he vanishes, his collection of pins clattering to the floor.
Arthur doesn’t come back until after Lewis has brought them both back to their temporary base. He’s looking through a book when something suddenly tackles him from behind and he drops it in his surprise.
“What are you doing?” he says, once he realizes it’s Arthur.
“…was scared,” is the answer. His voice is back to its usual, small and slightly wavery. “We were… in trouble, right?”
He wasn’t sure if you could really count the ghost hunter as trouble, and Arthur certainly wasn’t in any danger from him, but… “Sure. Yes.”
The arm around his chest tightens. “Thanks for… getting us out…” a small giggle. “You’re so cool…”
Oh. He doesn’t remember what happened, does he?
Lewis sighs and raises an arm to let Arthur crawl into his lap. There’s no sign of any of the power he’d summoned. The little electric cape he usually has seems even dimmer than normal, and mostly he just looks… sleepy.
“Everything’s fine,” he says, letting his arm drop back to rest on Arthur as he curls up against him. “We’ll have to get moving again soon.”
Arthur doesn’t answer, just snuggles into his side with a quiet hum.