Explain It Like I'm Tree

Outline

IMPORTANT NOTE: Well, there's a first time for everything. I'm very sorry, but I've lost the spark, here. I've written 100k words of original fiction in the interim and moved to another country. I have to learn a new language with a wholly different character system. I do not have time, bandwidth, or inspiration to finish this. Especially because I can't seem to bring it around to a more "healed" ending. I may come back and finish properly someday, but in case I don't, I didn't want to leave you without at least an outline of where this was going. So, here is the start of a chapter as normally written, followed by a rough idea of where the story was going. Thank you for your patience, I'm sorry for letting you down on this one.

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Three times. Count them, three. That's how often Vivi's vision cut to black and she woke up splayed out on Mystery's tails. It didn't matter whether she was telling the story or he was, her brain simply shut down mid-sentence at key points.

Another lovely parting gift from Lewis-the-rampaging-wraith-Pepper.

She knew what happened that night in the cave. She had to know, at some level, but any conscious effort to touch the details or think too deeply about who Lewis was a rocket-powered slingshot to oblivion.

Dib's eyes were wide and his lips pressed in a tight line. Credit to the kid, through the whole story he kept his hands steady on the chalk. By the time Mystery reached the end, Dib had marked the van with more protective patterns than Vivi had ever seen in one place.

At the end, he snapped the last piece of runechalk on an inverted symbol over the windshield, his knuckles white. "He should have said something to me," he managed. "Why didn't he... if he'd told me any of this! Now I have a starting point for his problem! Even an idea of how to fix... cripes, Mod Skull! It didn't have to go like this!"

Viv sighed, rubbing one eye. "I think that sums up the story of our team decision-making for the last two years. Didn't have to go like this." The fatigue swirled thick in her head, but there was no time. If she even waited long enough to take a nap, Lewis might hurt someone. The fact that he was still on this plane of reality weighed heavily on her shoulders.

He might have killed this kid. That would have been my fault. I should have forced the issue from the start. Ghosts have to pass on. Period. End of story.

Dib carefully hopped off the hood of the van, pocketing the fragments and dusting off his hands. "It makes perfect sense. Of course Mod—Lewis—is frying electronics left and right. The guy he's mad at is a mechanic. Anything having to do with Arthur is a massive trigger. And you guys have been living together? Vortian shoelaces... no wonder."

He shook his head. "Sounds like Arthur didn't mean to kill Lewis, but even if Lewis gets that now, he died thinking otherwise. My Swollen Eyeball contact covered some basics with me, and she said that last impressions aren't easy for a ghost to get past. I mean, you guys would know that better than me, of course. But all those horror manifestations Lewis described to me... well, now it sounds a lot like he was suppressing a lot of dark urges and slowly losing control. He doesn't have the physical hardware to manage that quietly." Dib knocked on his own head. "No brain, see? Since he's just a spirit, it's all out in the open. All the dark fantasies materialize. The more he shoves it down, the worse it gets."

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THE REST OF THE STORY

Unbeknownst to the rest of the group, Arthur has woken up and is listening to the situation being discussed with Dib (wondering, who is this kid Vivi's talking to and, uh, why?). He realizes Lewis is in full haunt-meltdown mode and decides to deal with that situation himself. He's numb, but furious underneath it, and more than done with all this crap. He slips out of the car and, before the others can stop him, he dives into the bramble-field. It parts for him, but slams shut before the others can follow on foot.