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alphashley14 · 1 year

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One of Us

A Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated/Mystery Skulls Crossover

Chapter 19

No One Ever Really Dies

After fleeing the lounge, Ricky and the kids hurried into Fred and Daphne’s room and shut and locked the door behind them.

Once inside, they stood around the door and listened.

“I don’t hear anything. What about you Scoob?” Fred asked.

“Not a thing,” Scooby confirmed.

“Even the best of friends argue,” Daphne said.

“She’s right,” Ricky said. “They love each other too much to resort to violence. No matter what they’re fighting about.”

The six of them backed away and sat around the room to talk.

“So like um…” Shaggy plopped down into a chair, “can we talk about… that?”

“Shaggy’s right. We need to be on the same page about this,” Velma agreed.

“I just can’t believe that sweet little dog turned out to be…” Daphne left the end of her sentence open-ended, but everyone knew what she meant.

“I trust him,” Ricky said, to all of their surprises.

“Like really?” Shaggy exclaimed.

“But why?” Scooby asked.

“Whatever he was in the past, he isn’t the same guy who’s comforted me today more times than I care to mention,” Ricky said. “I don’t need to remind you all that I have regrets too. But I’ve realized that I was wrong and I’m doing something about it. He didn’t get to finish telling us his story, but it should be obvious to us all that he did the same thing. And unlike me he’s had centuries to do so.”

“He’s right,” Velma said, thinking back to how Mystery had told her about magic. “If he was the same fox who did all of those things back then, I don’t think any of us would even be standing here right now. If he wanted to hurt us, he’s had infinite opportunities to do so by now. Not to mention that he wanted our trust enough to tell me what his achilles heel is.”

“Yeah but like, that’s assuming he’s telling the truth,” Shaggy said.

“I think he has good intentions,” said Scooby, remembering how Mystery had exacted justice on his behalf when the scary priest in the painting had come at him earlier.

“I think so too, just from what we’ve seen and what we’ve been told so far,” Daphne said. “But, I think it’s important that we all remember that we don’t have all of the facts yet. Mystery didn't finish his story.”

“Is it wrong of me to say that I’m kind of glad he didn’t?” Fred asked, anxiously messing with his ascot. “It’s- a lot.”

“I feel exactly the same way,” Ricky agreed. “Also, adding onto this discussion, I would like to point out that even if we didn’t trust the Mystery Skulls, I believe that continuing to cooperate with them is presently the more strategically sound thing to do. If it weren’t for the Mystery Skulls, my old group would have us vastly outgunned and outnumbered right now. Not that I’m calling you kids incapable. Because it’s honestly impressive how difficult it’s been to get one up on you. But if they cornered us somehow…”

“He’s right,” Velma said thoughtfully. “The Mystery Skulls actually have a pretty good chance of overpowering them, even without our help.”

“But if they’re so strong,” Scooby said with a tilt of his head, “then why don’t they just barge in and rescue Arthur?”

“Actually, yeah. I was sort of wondering the same thing,” Daphne said thoughtfully.

“The situation’s too delicate for that,” Ricky replied. “Right now to Professor Pericles, Arthur- or rather I, am a tool. But if we barged in and tried to rescue Arthur- or me, then we’d need to get the remote from Pericles. And he’s so smart that chances are he’d realize what we were there for before we could do that. He might even realize that the swap’s taken place. And if that happens, I can’t begin to describe how monumentally bad that would be. Because then Arthur’s not just a tool anymore - he becomes a hostage. And I think we all know what the first of his demands would be.”

“The planispheric disc!” Mystery Inc. exclaimed at once.

“Like he’s right. He’s totally right!” Shaggy cried.

“And even if we gave him the disc, there’s no garuntee he’d give Arthur or Mr. E or whoever’s in that body back,” Fred added. “Because as long as he has a hostage, he’s got a way of making sure we don’t interfere with his plans.”

“Which means that as much as we don’t like it,” Ricky walked over to the window and leaned against the glass, looking out over the twisted forest. “The covert operation that Arthur has going on right now is the best chance we have of getting him back safely. I just hope he stays safe in the process.”

Ricky talked with the kids for another twenty minutes before they bid each other goodnight and at last retired to their rooms for the evening.

As soon as he was back in the seclusion of his room, the entire day finally hit him all at once. Ricky felt like he hadn’t slept in fifteen chapters. He was suddenly so tired. Had it really been only a day? It felt more like seven months.

But as much as he wanted to collapse face-first onto that huge bed and pass out for the rest of this chapter (assuming nothing weird happened in his dreams this time and his insomnia hadn’t followed him to this body), Ricky knew he’d feel monumentally better after a shower.

Ricky looked over to the bathroom with a sigh and repeated what Fred and Mystery had told him earlier. “We’re both guys… it’s only as weird as I make it. Don’t make it weird…”

The problem was that it was already weird. Ricky had grown more accustomed to what existing in Shaggy’s body felt like, but the shower really forced him to feel the difference. Then there was Shaggy’s hair. Washing Ricky’s hair was a process. Shaggy’s hair on the other hand was as easy as wash, rinse, fluff it with a towel at the end, and- oh wow. Hair’s basically dry already. All done.

So. If he was looking for plus sides to this whole situation, he supposed he could add that to the list: showers were easy.

After he was dried off, Ricky got dressed to go to sleep, brushed his teeth, turned out the lights, then finally climbed into bed.

As absolutely magical as the bed was, Ricky laid awake for a long time, letting his thoughts drift wherever they wanted to go. He thought a lot about today. But time and time again, his thoughts wandered back to Cassidy. Until finally, he gave up and stopped trying not to think of her.

She would have loved all of this, he thought to himself. Vivi’s a fighter, just like her. They would have gotten along well. She might’ve been cautious of Mystery, but he would have adored her. She wouldn’t’ve been afraid of Lewis either. And the Dead Beats would have made her laugh. A mental image came to mind. Of her. Laughing as the little pink spirits nuzzled and crowded around her for pets like they had to him and the kids earlier. The thought brought a smile to his lips.

As nice a thought as it was, it was never going to happen. And it was all his fault.

Are you here now? Could you have come back as a ghost? Like Lewis?

No. Ricky didn’t want that for her. If she came back as a ghost, then what if she came back as a weak spirit, like the painting ghosts? Stuck in one place? Trapped where she’d died? Clinging to her humanity and always struggling to not be consumed by stronger beings? Like the wild world of yokai Mystery had described. God, no. Not Cassidy. After all she’d been through, she deserved peace.

But… where exactly?

The Mystery Skulls talked about life after death as if there was more than one. If that were true, then perhaps he and Cassidy would truly never meet again. But maybe it was better that way. Wherever she was… all he wanted was what was best for her. But what did he know? Basically nothing. He would have to ask one of the Mystery Skulls about it when he got the chance.

“Wherever you are,” he prayed to her quietly, “I hope you’re at peace, somewhere worthy of you. And I’m- Oh Angel… Cassidy I’m so sorry…”

Maybe Ricky was just that exhausted. And perhaps not being in the body of an insomniac had something to do with it too. The last words that slipped past his lips before Ricky cried himself to sleep came out barely a whisper.

“I love you…”

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

“It’s done,” Lewis said, popping back into the room through the table in front of them. Marcie shrieked and nearly sent Arthur’s coffee flying across the room, but Arthur reached out and caught it before it could spill.

“Dude. You did that on purpose,” Arthur said dryly.

“Maybe,” Lewis shrugged. “It was funny tho.”

“It wasn’t funny to me!” Marcie protested.

“Sorry,” Lewis said, not sounding remorseful. He flew up to Arthur’s head level and flipped upside down. “But to be fair, I don’t get people I can mess with very often. What’s the point of being a ghost if you can’t at least have a little fun with it right?”

“Yeah,” Marcie half-laughed, “I guess so.”

“Is there anything else I can do to help while I’m here? Anything at all?” Lewis asked.

“You’ve done plenty,” Arthur said. “Seriously Lewis. We may not have been able to pull this off without your help. Just out of curiosity, how many different tracking devices and bugs did you find on the Enigma Machine?” Arthur asked.

“Four,” Lewis replied.

“And what did you do with them?”

“Hid them in the ceiling above the vehicle. Just like you said. When you make your escape, the tracking systems will show that the van is still in the garage. They won’t be able to track it.”

“And you weren’t seen?”

“Come on man, you know me. I’ve had plenty of practice avoiding breathers and fucking with security cameras by now,” Lewis said, flipping over so he was upright once more.

“How foolish of me to doubt you,” Arthur said jokingly.

“Yeah Arthur. Why’d you do that?”

They laughed, but soon broke off into silence as an unpleasant truth hung in their air between them.

“I don’t want to leave you,” Lewis said sadly at last.

“And I don’t want you to go,” Arthur admitted, pulling his friend into a hug. “But we both know why you have to.”

“Your plan will work. It has to,” Lewis said.

“And when it does, I’ll see you on the road the night after next.”

“But until then, know that you’ll never be off my mind. Just- remember, Arthur. If you need me for any reason, you can send a message through the Dead Beats.”

“I know. Thanks, Lewis.” Arthur said.

They pressed their foreheads together for a long moment, a final goodbye, before Lewis turned to Marcie. “Take care of him,” he beseeched her. “Arthur’s the smartest idiot I know. He could build a whole new world with that brain of his, but he’ll get so focused on it that he’ll forget to do important being-alive things. Like eating. Or sleeping. Or occasionally taking a shower.”

“Hey! I- do not!”

“Oh yeah? How many meals have you eaten today?”

Arthur opened and closed his mouth, then pursed his lips in thought. “...Does one singular donut count as ‘brunch’?”

“No it does not. Eat something, Kingsmen!” Lewis barked.

“All right. All right. You have my word. I’ll scrounge something together.”

“And you’ll sleep?”

“... Yyyyes…” Arthur groaned.

“But you’re going to eat something first.” Lewis said.

“Fine! Look, Lew! This is me, going to eat something!” Arthur said loudly as he marched into the kitchen.

Lewis’ scowl softened into a smile as he watched Arthur disappear into the other room. Then he turned back to Marcie once more. “Hey. Uhm. I know you’re doing a lot as it is, but I meant what I said. Take care of him… please.”

“Don’t worry. I will,” Marcie nodded.

“Seriously. Thank you. The only reason I’m not an anxiety-ridden mess is because I know he’s not totally alone in here.”

“You are an anxiety-ridden mess,” Marcie corrected.

Lewis barked a laugh. “I guess that’s true. So… it seems like you’re taking this really well. You’re definitely less hesitant to believe all this than Velma was. Any reason why?”

“I mean Arthur had the Dead Beats as proof of the paranormal from the get-go, so I guess I’ve had a while to come to terms with the whole ‘ghosts are real’ thing before I met you. Other than that, I did have my doubts as to whether he’s really not Mr. E for most of today. Until…”

“What?”

“I made one reference. Just one. And the next thing I knew, Arthur had to physically restrain himself from going on a rave about Smash Bros trivia. We got refocused back to the task at hand pretty quick, but that’s definitely when I knew for sure. Mr. E would never.”

Lewis snorted. “Yeah! That sounds like Arthur!” When Arthur came back into the room, eating the final bites of a ham and cheese sandwich, he didn’t say a word about Lewis being gone. Marcie supposed that for them, just leaving was easier. Or else they’d never be able to let each other go.

Marcie was tempted to ask Arthur if he was okay, but he spoke up as she was opening her mouth to do so. “You should eat something too. I would’ve made you a sandwich too, but I didn’t know what you liked or if you were vegetarian or anything like that.”

“I’m not vegetarian but yeah. I’ll eat something. Speaking of… it’s getting pretty late you know. Are you… going to sleep soon?”

“Eventually.”

“How about a shower?”

Arthur snorted. “Not a chance in Hell.”

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Ricky dreamed that night. Of her, of course.

The last time Ricky ever saw her was in the forest when all five members of the original Mystery Incorporated met together for the first time in 20 years. After Pericles made his offer and flew away, Brad and Judy had left in a huff, at that time still pretending that they were acting in the best interest of their son. Leaving Ricky and Cassidy alone beneath the moonlit trees.

“The nerve of that bird,” she’d scoffed, angrily kicking a tree root. “Who the hell does he think he is?”

Ricky just scowled, trying to hide how tempted he was to take him up on his offer. He didn’t trust Pericles. Their relationship would never be what it was. But… he missed him. As hard as he denied it, he missed his old friend. Having lost his every friend and ally, Ricky was alone. He hated being alone.

Unless…

“He’s right you know,” Ricky had said.

And Cassidy had whirled around to scold him, “You can’t possibly be considering-!”

“Of course not!” (He’d lied both to her and himself that night, of course.) “I just mean that us, working together… we’d have a better chance at getting the pieces than we would by ourselves. My offer still stands, Cassidy. You’re smart. Resourceful. Strong. I want you back on my team.”

Looking back, she’d looked almost hopeful at first. But as soon as ‘getting the pieces’ left his mouth she had turned sad, her disappointment in him evident. “And my answer is the same,” she sighed. “I told you already, Ricky. I won’t hurt those kids.”

“Right,” Ricky had said bitterly, “Because they’re good kids. What was it you said? Better than we were?”

“We were good once too,” she muttered.

“You were a child.” Wait- what was that? A newer memory, the voice of a newer friend, echoing in his ears.

“You were a good kid.” What was he doing? He could be good again. This didn’t have to end the same way it had been the first time. He could save her. She didn’t have to die!

“And he took advantage of that.” But even as these thoughts occurred to Ricky, everything he wanted to say was trapped at the back of his throat.

“Goodbye Ricky,” and then she was leaving.

NO! IF YOU LET HER GO YOU’LL NEVER SEE HER AGAIN!

Ricky tried to move but his feet were rooted to the spot. He tried to talk, to shout her name, but no sound would come out. He reached out, trying to catch her, but she was just out of reach.

NO. NO NO NO NO!

But he watched her walk away, just as he had back then. And as she vanished into the darkness of the trees the memory of another familiar voice, a more cruel voice, echoed in his ears.

“Would you like to know how she died?”

“NO!”

Ricky shot up, wide awake in a cold sweat. He had to look around for several moments as he recalled where he was and why. He was safe. In Lewis’ mansion. The forest was but one in a long series of regrets. And Cassidy-

She’s gone.

Ricky took several deep breaths and fell back onto the pillows.

Fuuuuuck.

Figures he couldn’t go one night without something weird or otherwise unpleasant happening in his dreams. Granted - he hadn’t ended up in another dimension this time, so this was arguably an improvement. Arguably. As in Ricky could also argue that he preferred the Sitting Room. Seriously, the realities of the waking world were unpleasant as it is. Why did his brain have to torture him when he was asleep, too?

Just then, his stomach made a noise akin to the sound of a dying whale.

“Fuck you Shaggy,” Ricky grumbled in the dark. But he felt bad as soon as the words left his mouth. It wasn’t Shaggy’s fault that his body for some reason required breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, and supper. It was genetics- some kind of disorder- something. In any case, something wasn’t right.

Come to think of it, how is he not constantly shitting with how much he eats? And how is he not as fat as me while shitting all the time? Where does the food go? Is this kid’s stomach a portal to another dimension???

Ah, the thoughts one has while tired as fuck at- Ricky glanced over at the alarm clock to see what godforsaken hour of the night it had the audacity to be - 2:51 in the morning.

Also, speaking of shitting, he kinda needed to go to the bathroom anyway.

Grumbling in I-don’t-want-to-get-up, Ricky reluctantly left the bed’s warm comfort. Fuck, he’d been all cozy from his body heat warming the covers and the inside of the mansion was cold - especially at night. But what else should he expect from a haunted house? Ricky turned the bedside lamp on, retrieved his jacket from where it was lying at the foot of his bed, and quickly put it on.

He used the facilities, then went to the door. He glanced over at the clock again. It was now 3:00 am - the witching hour. Was it a good idea to wander the halls of a haunted house during the witching hour? Probably not. But based on the off-key didgeridoo noises his stomach was making, this stupid body wasn’t going to leave him alone until he fed it. So he really didn’t have much choice if he wanted so much as a chance of getting a wink of more sleep.

Ricky stepped out into the hall. Fuck - it was dark. Fortunately there were nightlights at pretty regular intervals in the halls for the living, so he wasn’t wandering completely blind. He was fine leaving the East Wing and the few turns after that. Living and working at Destroido meant that he was used to remembering his way through large buildings. He heard footsteps once or twice with no one attached to them, weird glowing orbs darted in and out of sight, and at one point he thought he heard voices muttering. But he didn’t meet any ghosts. That is until-

Uh-oh. Which way was it again?

Left or right? Should he just walk to the end of each hall and see if anything looked familiar? Dammit, where were the Dead Beats when you needed-

Scrrrrraaape

Such a quiet sound was deafening in the silent hallway. Ricky froze.

Scraaape- Scrrrrrraaape

Ricky gulped and turned his head in the direction of the noise.

Ding-dong Daddy-o…

One of the suits of armor had moved. From its usual frozen position to leaning forward with its head turned in Ricky’s direction, glowing pink eyes beneath its mask fixed right on him.

Ricky gulped. Lewis said they protect the mansion. “U-uh… I-I’m a guest…” he stuttered, fiddling with his fingers, feeling very silly and very scared. “I uh, I got hungry. Could you uh- tell me which way the kitchen is?

Scccrrrape Scrrrraaape

The suit of armor moved again, pointing towards the left.

“Oh-” Ricky had kind of not expected it to answer him, much less help. “T-thanks.”

Scrrrraaape Scrape Scraaape

The suit of armor briefly bowed to him, then motioned for him to be on his way.

Heart pounding, Ricky’s whole body felt stiff with fear as he took the route to the left. He could hear the armor’s head turning as it watched him go. As he came to the next hallway (he remembered where he was now), he heard a bunch more scraping behind him as the possessed armor returned to its usual frozen position.

Well that was terrifying yet helpful.

Just as terrifying yet equally helpful, every suit of armor Ricky passed from then on pointed in the direction Ricky needed to go. Until finally, very creeped out and not wanting to make any more noise from the metal moving, Ricky told one of the suits of armor as politely as he could that he remembered which way to go from here, but that he appreciated all of their help. The armor bowed to him, resumed its original position, and none of them moved after that.

Soon after that, came into the foyer, where he was happy to see a familiar troop of pink friends playing tag near the ceiling, zooming around the chandelier. As he stepped out of the doorway, one of the Dead Beats spotted him and pointed him out to his friends, who all made happy trilling noises as they zoomed down to give him nuzzles and demand pets. Trying to stay quiet, Ricky laughed, scritching their heads. “Hey you guys. Boy, am I happy to see you. I’m on my way to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Would you like to keep me company?”

The Dead Beats were delighted to do just that.

Then at last, Ricky made it into the kitchen.

Ricky opened the fridge and squinted from the glare of the bright artificial light, his eyes having adjusted to the dark house. He was looking for a drink when-

“Ricky?”

Ricky jumped and banged his head on the top of the fridge with a curse.

“Oof, you okay dude?”

“Lewis?” Ricky turned around, rubbing the soon-to-be bump on his head. The ghost was standing by the doorway with a couple more Dead Beats. “You’re back. And- What’re you doing up?”

“I’m a ghost,” Lewis shrugged. “I don’t exactly need sleep. What’re you doing up?”

“Uh- couldn’t sleep. And I got hungry.”

Lewis snorted. “You just missed Scooby. He was in here for a midnight snack not half an hour ago.”

“Ah. That explains why the fridge doesn’t look as packed as it did earlier,” Ricky said. Right then, one of the Dead Beats floated over to him helpfully with a bag of pretzels. Ricky thanked him and then turned back to Lewis. “So. How was Arthur?” He asked, popping one into his mouth.

Lewis sighed with relief. “He’s okay. Thank God. Marcie’s on board, I helped with some things, and thus far everything’s going according to his plan.”

“That’s good,” Ricky sighed, eating another handful. “So what exactly is his plan?” He asked after he swallowed.

“Actually, I needed to talk to you about that…” Lewis rubbed the back of his neck and procured a flashdrive from a pocket in his waistcoat.

Ricky abruptly stopped chewing. Why did he have a feeling that he knew what the contents of that were? He swallowed. “What’s that?” He asked.

“Proof of what happened to you,” Lewis winced.

“... Oh,” Ricky looked away. “Did uh… did you watch it?”

“No,” Lewis said. “That would be a messed up thing to do. And I’m not going to let anyone else see it without your permission either. So… are you okay with me seeing this? Or anyone else for that matter?”

“Um… let me get back to you on that. It’s- late. I know somebody should see it but- could I think about it?”

“No problem man. Take as much time as you need,” Lewis said, tucking it back in his pocket.

“Oh! Ricky. What are you doing up?” Mystery, in the form of a dog, trotted into the room and hopped up into one of the chairs.

“Ah- uh, bad dreams,” Ricky said, forgetting to lie about it. “-And a midnight snack,” he caught himself, shaking the bag of pretzels. He quickly changed the subject. “So uh, how are you and Vivi? All good?”

“What happened with Vivi?” Lewis growled.

“Tensions ran high, and we had a moment. About three years ago. But we got through it, and we’re fine now,” Mystery said, hinting very strongly to Lewis that they would talk about it when not in mixed company.

Lewis fortunately caught the hint, because he reverted the subject back to Ricky. “Gotcha. So, Ricky. Bad dreams? Do you… want to talk about it?”

“I’ve just been- thinking a lot about Cassidy,” he admitted, setting down the now-empty bag of pretzels and opening a jug of yogurt. “I know you never knew her but, I really wish you had. She was… she really was perfect.”

Ricky was too deep in self-pity to notice the panicked look Mystery and Lewis shot each other.

“I said a lot of really shitty things to her,” Ricky sighed. “Things I didn’t mean. And I just wish I could take it all back, or at least tell her how sorry I am. For all of it.”

He was completely oblivious to Mystery and Lewis silently shouting at each other on either side of him.

‘Should we tell him???’ Lewis mouthed.

‘No!’ Mystery mouthed back.

“And she would have loved this.” Ricky laughed, “Knowing her she’d be like ‘hell no’ at first. But once she got over that initial hurdle I really think she would’ve liked to learn all of this, and to meet you. And you would’ve liked her.”

‘He deserves to know!’ Lewis mouthed, gesticulating wildly.

‘Don’t say SHIT!’ Mystery swiped a paw across his throat.

‘He’s heartbroken!’

‘It’s too much!’

“She would have been a big help too,” Ricky said. “She was so smart. One of the smartest people I ever knew… and the kindest.”

‘I’m gonna tell him!’

‘Don’t you dare!’

‘We should tell him!’

“In the morning!” Mystery loud-whispered.

Ricky looked up, and Mystery and Lewis quickly snapped into “totally-not-up to-something” poses before he could notice. “Did you say something?” He asked.

“Oh- yes. Cassidy-” The dog cleared his throat. “Cassidy is a truly wonderful person. And uh- in the morning, I have a lot more to tell you and teach you that I bet she would really want to see.” Were it not past 3:00 in the morning, Ricky might have caught Mystery’s use of the word ‘is’ as opposed to ‘was’.

‘Smooth,’ Lewis mouthed at Mystery over Ricky’s head.

Mystery shot him a glare. None of that was a lie.

Just then, on its own, the radio on the counter turned on smack in the middle of a Mystery Skulls song.

“If I could do this all a-gain, If I could start o-ver, and give you everything-”

The three of them turned around to the source of the noise to see the Dead Beats floating totally guilty around the radio.

“-Yeah, I wouldn’t change a thing. As long as I have you baby- As long as I have you baby!”

Ricky just looked at them confused and listened while panicked, Mystery and Lewis comically shook their heads, ‘NO!’

And the Dead Beats stubbornly nodded, ‘YES!’

“See?” Ricky sighed, completely misinterpreting what the Dead Beats were trying to tell him. “They get it.”

As the strum of the keyboard and the thrum of the beat gave way to lyrics once more, Lewis flew across the room-

“-’Cause no one ever really diiies-”

Ricky didn’t hear the rest because Lewis cut the radio off.

“Why’d you turn it off?” Ricky asked, confused.

“I- uh- it was way too loud. You- sillies,” Lewis turned to the Dead Beats with a too-wide grin. “I know how much you love music, but do you want to wake the whole house? We’re going to have to have a talk later,” The ghost growled at them.

The Dead Beats just crossed their arms and turned away sharply. Foiled!

While Lewis glared at the Dead Beats, Mystery turned back to Ricky. “Speaking of,” the kitsune-disguised-as-a-dog said, “I really think you ought to get back to sleep.”

Ricky scoffed. “I’m not so sure that’s going to happen. Sleep doesn’t exactly come to me easily. Not to mention I’m not exactly looking forward to another nightmare.”

Mystery tilted his head, thoughtful.

The dog made a flourish with one of his paws, and a small vial appeared on the table in a flash of his foxfire.

Ricky jumped, not expecting it. The vial was half-moon-shaped, with a star-shaped cork, filled with a beautiful luminous midnight blue fluid.

“Really? You’re gonna give him that?” Lewis exclaimed. The Dead Beats were still pouting behind him.

“What is it?” Ricky asked.

“Magic,” Mystery replied. “We're acquainted with a number of potion makers and regularly enlist their services. This,” Mystery said, motioning for Ricky to pick up the bottle, “is a half-dose of dreamless sleep potion. It instantly puts its drinker into deep sleep, then awakens the drinker fast enough that the mind never enters the stage of sleep in which dreams occur. This is a half dose, meant to be taken when one wakes in the middle of the night. So it should guarantee you another five hours or so of restful slumber.”

“Just don’t get reliant on that stuff,” Lewis warned. “Trust us, we know from experience: It becomes an unhealthy coping mechanism if you use it too often.”

“So I will not allow you to use this tomorrow night under any circumstances,” Mystery added with a nod.

Ricky blinked at him for a few moments, so grateful and stunned that words failed him. “I- Thank you Mystery,” He stammered.

“Oh pish posh. It’s such a simple matter it hardly requires any thanks. But I accept it all the same.” (Bullshit. Ricky could totally tell he was enjoying the gratitude.)

“Also, don’t drink that until you’re already in bed,” Lewis cautioned. “It’ll put you out so fast that the flavor will still be on your tongue when you konk out. Arthur took it too soon one time and passed the fuck out right in the middle of the apothecary.”

“Sheesh. Strong stuff,” Ricky said, admiring the way the potion glittered.

“Hardly. Just a little magic,” Mystery chuckled. “Now off to bed with you. The faster you fall asleep the sooner you’ll wake up. There’s much to discuss in the morning.”

After Ricky finished his yogurt and two packs of popcorn, he bid Mystery and Lewis goodbye and the Dead Beats led him back to his room (Lewis discreetly made it very clear on their way out that they were still in hot water). As Ricky followed the pouting ghosts back to the East Wing, he turned the potion in his hands and wondered if Mystery had ever used it, or if he ever had trouble sleeping. He was centuries old, and had been through so much. Did he get nightmares too?

The Dead Beats led him on a different route back to the East Wing than he’d taken earlier that took them past the library. Which was why Ricky stopped, confused, in front of the doors.

The lights were on.

Curious, he walked into the library and the Dead Beats followed, chirping something that he imagined meant: “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be following us?” But Ricky ignored them.

The library was seemingly abandoned and dark, save a few lamps and the dull glow of moonlight shining through the windows. It wasn’t immediately apparent who was working this late until Ricky spotted an orange sleeve sticking out of a pile of papers at one of the desks.

“Velma?”

“TWELVE!” Velma shouted as her head shot up from the desk. Ricky and the Dead Beats jumped with surprise. She snorted and adjusted her glasses, reorienting herself back to reality from whatever she’d been dreaming about, then her bleary eyes fixed on him.

“Shaggy-? Wait. No. Sorry. Mr. E- Ricky! Sorry. What are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep. What’re you doing here?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“Who could sleep in a house full of books?” She shrugged. Then she yawned, rubbing her eyes beneath her glasses.

“I’d get back to bed if I were you,” Ricky advised. “Mystery’s also awake and if he finds you in here he’ll probably scold you for neglecting your health and send you back to bed anyway.”

“Are you going to scold me?” Velma asked.

“Nah. I’m up at 3am too, so I really can’t talk,” He shrugged. “Come on. Let’s go together.”

Velma straightened her work station so it wouldn’t look like a tornado had blown through it come morning, and the two of them followed the Dead Beats back to the East Wing.

Their walk was mostly silent until they passed a familiar portrait of a scowling priest, who gave them an extremely distasteful look but didn’t dare say anything out of fear of facing Mystery’s wrath again.

That was when it occurred to Ricky that they were walking along the same stretch of hallway where he’d had that talk with Fred earlier. Also he and Velma were alone. Which made it the perfect opportunity to ask her a rather delicate question.

Ricky cleared his throat nervously. “Um, Velma?”

“Yes?”

“I uh, have a question to ask you… It’s not exactly a fun one, but uh...”

Velma straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. “Okay,” she said thoughtfully.

“I need to know how Cassidy died.”

Velma’s face softened at the question, but he saw confirmation in her eyes of what he’d already suspected.

“You were there, weren’t you?”

Velma looked away, and she didn’t answer for several long moments. She took off her glasses to wipe the wetness from her eyes with her sleeve before she got a grip, put her glasses back on, and confirmed what he already knew: “Yeah. We were there.”

Ricky’s throat closed. For her, and for the other poor kids who’d had to witness something so awful. He didn’t meet her eyes when he asked her quietly, “Did she suffer?”

Velma hesitated in her answer. None of them had seen it happen, but they were all haunted by imaginings of Cassidy’s final moments. Had she been shot by the Kriegstaffebots before the self-destruct sequence completed? Was she blown up? Had the explosion killed her instantly? Or had she been covered in burns and injuries, forced to suffer before she faded away? Or had she lasted a bit longer and drowned? Supposedly drowning was a peaceful way to go, but she must have been so scared-

“No,” Velma said firmly, no matter how much she doubted it. “It happened so fast. I’m sure she didn’t suffer.”

Ricky’s entire body sagged with relief. “Thank you, Velma."

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Professor Pericles was a homicidal maniac.

Both fortunately and unfortunately for the entirety of the human race, he was smart about being a homicidal maniac.

He didn’t just kill people whenever he felt like it. He did so with purpose, waiting until the opportune moment to remove certain pawns or obstacles from his path. Which was good for Marcie and Arthur, because it meant that they likely had a bit of time to stop Professor Pericles from killing someone in the future.

They had been working for a little under an hour after Lewis left when a stubborn little red light turned green.

Marcie nearly spat out her coffee. “I’m in!”

“Seriously?” Arthur’s head shot up excitedly from where he was hunched over his own computer, sending a couple of pages of scribbled notes falling from the side of the table. One of the Dead Beats picked them up and put them back helpfully.

“Yep. Alright, Arthur. Now what?” And with that they swapped computers, and Arthur’s face lit up in the artificial light as his eyes greedily took in the seemingly alien letters and numbers filling the screen.

Seemingly alien of course, unless you were an expert of Arthur and Marcie’s calibur. For while to untrained eyes it may look like word salad, to the two of them it was like looking into the Matrix, and at a mere glance Arthur knew that Marcie really had pulled through.

He was looking at the Kriegstaffebot program codes.

It was time to deliver the first strike. The question was: when was Pericles going to feel it?

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

They went into Velma’s room to talk.

It went about as well as it could have, as painful as it was for both of them.

After Velma finished recounting Cassidy’s final hours, Ricky thanked her and returned to his own room, where he laid back in his bed, the sleeping potion still corked in his hand, and stared at the ceiling processing what he’d been told.

He blew up K-Ghoul. He. Fucking. Blew up. K-Ghoul. He destroyed her home and her livelihood, and he tried to kill her until he succeeded.

Ricky was grateful for the potion Mystery had given him, because he was so angry right now that he was certain he’d never get back to sleep otherwise.

K-Ghoul had been his gift to her when Angel Dynamite had returned to Crystal Cove. He used the excuse that she’d need a good cover to come back with her alias intact. But that wasn’t completely true. He could have just as well gotten her a job as a custodian somewhere if he wanted her to keep an eye on the town and the new Mystery Incorporated unnoticed. But she would have been miserable doing that kind of work. Angel Dynamite was a DJ, and Cassidy had always loved music. It was true that she came back to Crystal Cove for a reason. But he wanted her to be… happy. He also supposed, looking back, that he’d wanted to thank her for all the joy she'd brought him once. And to make amends in his own way, even if the words to apologize hadn’t come (yet another of his many regrets).

Their breakup was his fault. As the years went by after Pericles’ betrayal, Ricky had grown bitter and angry. And the one who got the brunt of it was the very same person who stuck by his side longer than anyone else. He never struck her. As awful a human being as the curse had twisted him into, he didn’t think he’d be able to live with himself if he ever hit Cassidy. But all the same, he’d been so… mean. And of course, no matter how much she loved him, Cassidy’s self-esteem and strength of spirit was too high to deal with his bullshit, so… They broke up.

And after all that time, Ricky had still regretted the way he’d treated her. But even though they weren’t together anymore, he… he wanted her to be happy. K-Ghoul had been his way of looking after her, as he should have done all those years ago.

And Pericles fucking blew it up. Without even consulting me. How dare he?

“He had no right…” Ricky seethed quietly, feeling more like his bitter old self than he had in a while. But this time his anger was directed at just one bird. Professor Pericles. Not the kids. Not the world. Not Cassidy-

Cassidy…

Maybe it made him a horrible person, but he couldn’t help but be a little mad at her. “Why didn’t you come to me?” He whispered into the dark, a tear falling down his cheek.

I would have protected you. I never would have let him hurt you if I knew.

But Ricky couldn’t be mad at her. Because he knew exactly why she hadn’t come to him.

She had no way of knowing that I would have chosen her. I was working with Pericles. For all she knew, I was the one trying to have her killed.

Imagining that broke Ricky’s heart all over again. That Cassidy died thinking-

Ricky sniffed and closed his eyes.

Cassidy… died.

As angry as he was, Ricky was also overwhelmingly sad.

They were in the Midnight Zone. She was surrounded by Kriegstaffebots. The lab exploded.

No. No, she would never give up! There was no corpse so maybe-

But their seal friend found her helmet. Even if she survived the blast, the weight of all that water would have killed her for sure. And even if not, there’s absolutely no way she would have been able to swim to the surface before she drowned.

There was no way out. Not even for her.

She’s gone.

In the back of Ricky’s mind, ever since he’d first learned of her death, there had been doubt. A small flicker of hope. Cassidy? Dead? It couldn’t be real. But Velma was no liar, and above that she was a realist. Hearing the facts of how it had happened from her made it… real.

She’s gone.

That was that. That was it. Ricky Owens was never going to see Cassidy Williams again and he didn’t even have a body to bury. The empty shell that had once been her was buried under rubble at the bottom of the ocean, the high walls of the trench the closest thing to a tombstone she would ever have.

She’s gone.

Pericles did it. He got rid of her. He pulled the trigger-

But I put the gun in his talons.

The weight of his own grief threatening to crush him, Ricky redirected his energy into his rage. I never should have saved him all those years ago.

He uncorked the potion and was immediately hit with an extremely strong smell. There was a lot of lavender but also other herbs and- whatever the hell that was. Ricky had no idea what he was about to ingest, but he trusted Mystery and needed to be well-rested.

She will be avenged. Her death will not be in vain! I’m going to need every bit of strength I can muster if I’m going to help-

But Ricky didn’t have a single other thought. For he’d tipped the bottle back and downed it in one gulp. And the instant after a light, minty, earthy flavor hit his tongue, Ricky’s entire body was going slack, the bottle was slipping from his fingers, and he was being enveloped in the welcome peace that slumber brought - completely dead to the world.

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Dawn came with deceptive tranquility.

The sun was peeking over the horizon and a morning mist had settled over the forest, making the mansion and the twisted, jagged trees around it seem as if they were on an island at the center of an endless gray sea.

The arrival of a long-awaited guest was marked by the rumble of a familiar engine, and the mist curling around a familiar silhouette like an angel’s wings.

Well. If any of you missed Ricky, you ought to be overjoyed with how Ricky-centered this chapter was. And you should expect the same from the next few chapters as well. If I were to map out the evolution of my plans for this chapter, they'd look like a roundabout with the number of directions this could have gone. At one point it was going to be heavily referencing the exorcist (have fun speculating what the fuck that means) (also that''s the stage I was at when I wrote the last chapter's author's notes, so sorry - I lied. It's gonna be a while before things get "nuts"), but then I realized that part would fit better later in the story. So a large chunk of this chapter was cut out, pasted somewhere else to be saved for later, and rewritten. So you guys have that to look forward to. But I'm happy with where this chapter ended up. I loved the humor and fourth wall breaks, angst is always fun to write, I liked further exploring some off-screen Rickidy interactions that may have happened in the show, and I think it ties up Ricky's grief arc in a neat little bow - right before it's smashed to pieces in the next chapter when You-Know-Who returns! (How did that accidentally become a Harry Potter reference? Oops. Lol. Though the dreamless sleep potion was inspired by the potion of the same name and function in the Harry Potter series. I just got back from Universal Studios, ok?! Harry Potter is on the brain.) Also. We got to meet the suits of armor, Lewis is back with the main group, and Arthur and Marcie have hacked into the Kriegstaffebots. What will they do with that? :D Finally, I just wanted to say that the next chapter of this fic has been living in my head rent-free for almost a year. It's one of the scenes I imagined that made me want to write this fic to begin with. So from the bottom of my heart, I can't even begin to say how excited I am to share it with you. That's all for now Warlocks, Witches, and Badass Bitches.

Chapters 1-18 of One of Us are presently posted on Archive of Our Own.

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