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The Fourth and Final Time

Summary:

Three times, Luigi had squared off against ghosts. Three times, he'd come out victorious.

The fourth time pushes his luck in a rather irreversible way.

or: Luigi takes a terminal spill, and Mario has to pick up the pieces.

Notes:

This work was inspired by @giddlygoat's Ghost Luigi AU. To find out more, visit them over on Tumblr and give their work some love.

Chapter 1: An Untimely Fall

Chapter Text

Keep going.

Such was the mantra Luigi kept repeating as he re-entered the latest accursed haunt, with the ever-present Polterpup by his side. He had no time to spare for reflections or worry, no room in the schedule to fret about the present. All that mattered was saving Mario, like every other time the supernatural interfered with his life.

Keep going.

Three times before, E. Gadd had turned to him to purge a place of poltergeists. Three times he’d gone in and emerged victorious, luckily so, having only been armed with a souped-up vacuum and his wits. The fourth time around, he was seasoned enough to see through the spirits’ tricks, expecting to find his brother at the top, a predictable prize from predictable foes. What he’d stumbled into instead was a tragic turn of the table, of Lady Luck taking his opponents’ side. In a familiar place that he’d sworn he’d cleared, the rug had been pulled out from under him, sending him stumbling out and over the railing.

Keep going.

Had the flowers been soft upon his landing? Luigi hadn’t had time to consider. All that mattered was moving forward. He could apologize to Gooigi later for what he’d had to do. His gooey doppelgänger would surely understand the need for tangibility, along with a functioning copy of the Poltergust.

Keep going.

He took another path this time, ducking behind the staircase into a hidden annex that led to another part of the mansion. How had he missed this? If he’d gone this way from the start, he would’ve never had to venture out onto that vertigo-inducing balcony, looking for somebody who had never been there.

There you are, bro.

The painting was leaning against an unfinished wall, tucked away like a forgotten heirloom or something else not worth displaying. If Luigi weren’t so relieved to find him, he’d be incensed at how these ghosts had handled his older brother. The canvas was just a foot away from a leaky pipe, for cryin’ out loud! How could anyone be so careless?

No matter. In a single click , neither he nor Mario would have to worry about water damage anymore. It would forever be a mystery just how Gooigi’s Poltergust could function, but so long as Luigi could hold the iridescent beam of a Strobulb out for his brother, he’d accept it for what it was.

“Gooigi?” There stood Mario, his relief clouded with confusion as he took in the sight before him. Around them both, Polterpup had reappeared, sniffing at everyone’s ankles and nudging not only the goo, but Luigi as well, somehow. It was something he’d never thought about, one ghost colliding with another. When the ghostly hound had happened upon him, the first thing the dog had done was nearly bowl him over, when previously he’d only brush off Luigi like a cool, dry mist.

“What’s going on?” Mario was starting to worry, one hand running through his hair as the other held his cap in place. “Where’s Lu? Is he stuck somewhere?”

It was no use holding court in Gooigi’s body anymore. With a sigh, he let go, floating up and out in what was now his true form: a spirit severed, but lingering amongst the living.

“Luigi?” The question was simple, soft, like Mario had been led into a surprise party rather than this wretched place. It didn’t take long for the sight before him to really start to sink in, manifesting in sweeping hand gestures and wide, frightened eyes. “Luigi?!”

“M-Mario, hey,” Luigi offered in greeting, knowing this had to happen but dreading it nonetheless. “I-I know this looks bad, but I’m fine, really—”

“Fine?!” It hurt to see Mario get upset like this, let alone to have it pointed his way. “How can you say you’re okay? Where’s your body?!”

“Oh boy…” Luigi brought his trembling hands to his face. “Mario, are you sure—”

“Where is it, Luigi?” It hurt to see his brother like this, trying his hardest not to cry. “Where are you?”

Luigi sighed. “The garden. It’s—I’m in the garden.”

Along with Mario, Luigi and Polterpup returned the way they came, with Luigi reluctantly taking control of Gooigi once more. The return trip felt much shorter with Mario in the lead, who threw open doors without a second’s hesitation until they all stumbled out into the cool, moonlit night. Only in a haunt could the outdoors feel just as claustrophobic and trapped as inside.

“No.” The exclamation was so soft that Luigi himself had barely heard it, even without Gooigi’s gelatinous membrane interfering with his hearing. “Nonono.” As Mario stepped closer, Luigi was finally able to get a good look at himself, sprawled out amongst the carnations and chrysanthemums with his limbs at angles they ought not to be. Mario didn’t turn around, instead continuing to tiptoe closer, until he finally crumpled to his knees beside a body that had long gone cold.

Whatever was said next was muddled with emotion as something broke down Mario’s walls, filling the air with his sobs as he held Luigi’s corpse close. Luigi wasn’t sure what to do, even upon his exit from Gooigi; it had never occurred to him that an out-of-body experience could play out like this. Still, he drifted closer, to his bawling brother and his former tie to the mortal coil, reaching out to at least reassure Mario that they could work through this.

“Whoa!” Mario had shrunk back from him, shivering where Luigi’s fingers had gone right through his shoulder. “Q-Quanto freddo, Luigi!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Luigi pulled back, trying not to look through his now-translucent hands at his shivering brother and his stiffening, silent remains. Mario’s eyes widened again as he met Luigi’s blank, glowing stare, and he once again broke down into what he held in his arms, something whose soul could only stare helplessly at the sight.

A series of beeps and chirps cut through his brother’s cries, ringing out in the nighttime air. Luigi could see something glowing in his pockets, no doubt trembling against his unresponsive leg. Mario took the greatest care in setting the body back down before rooting around for the source of the sound, flipping open the durable Dual Scream at a speed that threatened to snap the hinges.

“About time you pick up, Luigi!” E. Gadd had never sounded so worried, even when he’d been captured and framed. “I’ve been trying to reach you for the past—”

“E. Gadd,” his brother said, not caring anymore whether his voice conveyed anything short of confidence, “this is Mario.”

“Mario?” The Professor had certainly never sounded so confused, either. “Why hasn’t your brother been answering? I promised I wouldn’t call unless it was absolutely necessary, and you wouldn’t believe what my readings picked u—”

“Luigi’s dead.” The declaration put a leaden weight on the Dual Scream, dragging down Mario’s arm with it. 

“What?”

“Luigi fell off the balcony,” Mario said shakily. 

The air crackled with microphone silence, before E. Gadd once again found something to say. “W-what do you mean he fell off the balcony? That area had been cleared out!”

“I get that,” Mario answered, looking away from the device to wipe his eyes. “Look, can you get us out of here? Please?”

“O-Of course! Just tell Luigi—I mean you! Fish out the Pixelator from Luigi's pockets. It’ll take you—” 

Whatever else E. Gadd had to say was cut short by the sudden snap of the Dual Scream’s screens closing back up. Mario took care to tuck the device in his pocket before rooting through Luigi’s clothes one more time, pulling out a tiny red screen.

“How’s this work, Lu?” Luigi jumped at the question, facing his brother’s offered hand. “You probably wanna get out of here, too. What do I have to do?”

“Just tap it and set it down,” Luigi said wearily. “Polty! Gooigi! Over here! Oh, but don’t set it down until we’re all here.”

“Why not just recall Gooigi?”

“...I mean, if it still works.”

Miraculously, the Poltergust had only suffered a scratch. With the click of a button, Gooigi was secured in his glass tank, still strapped to the corpse’s back as the Pixelator’s light washed over the living, the dead, and the ghosts beside them, calling them back to the safety of the Professor’s lab.


“You could’ve said he was dead, Mario.”

"..."

The return trip had been quick and painless—far from what the brothers had encountered the moment the Professor saw the state Luigi was in. Luigi wasn’t sure whether E. Gadd was truly fascinated with his new spectral form or trying to mask his own grief. Knowing the man, Luigi felt that it was a strange combination of both.

“Is there any way to bring him back?” Mario had been sitting there, his head hanging between his shoulders, trying not to look at the body in its cold-storage drawer. “Can we use a power-up? Magic spell? Anything at all?”

“Aside from some truly powerful dark magic…” E. Gadd shook his head. “It’s been far too long for the poor boy. Even if you had a 1-UP on your person—which I know you don’t—using it would yield…undesirable results.”

Visions of Frankenstein’s monster and drooling zombies filled Luigi’s mind. He shook his head to clear them out.

“Is something the matter, sonny?”

“Aside from being dead?” Luigi regained his composure, his tail curling up underneath him. “I guess not.”

“No doubt this evening has been a gauntlet for the two of you,” E. Gadd reassured him. “I truly regret the role I’ve played in all this. However…”

“What do you mean ‘however’?” Mario lifted his head up, narrowing his eyes.

“I can’t help but think of the potential research that can come out of this!” E. Gadd’s face was lighting up at the prospect. “I’ve never been this close to a new spirit before! All of my studies have been on creatures many ages older than your brother!” He clapped his hands together. “There’s no telling what I might’ve been missing out on without a recently departed soul. Surely, you see what I’m getting at?”

Luigi looked from the Professor to his brother, who still remained where he sat, but with his hands curling up into fists. Even in this chilly new form, Luigi could feel the anger coming off of Mario in waves. 

“Hey, E. Gadd?” Luigi cut in. “I get that this is all very, um, exciting and all, but we’ve been through a lot tonight. Can we just go home?”

“Oh!” Like a switch flipped, E. Gadd was back to his previous dismay, as though what he said had actually sunk in. “O-Of course! My apologies!” He knuckled the side of his head. “Me and my big mouth. Let’s see.” A short stride later, and the Professor was back at his computer. “I’ve still got a direct line to your cottage out in the countryside. Will that do?”

Luigi managed a nod. Without another word, he drifted back to Mario, getting to his side just as the Professor fired the Pixelator their way for the final time that night.


An hour had passed. Mario hadn’t moved a muscle. Luigi didn’t know what to do. 

The Pixelator had spit them out onto the living room rug, a near-perfect reversal of Luigi’s first introduction to the device. A second flash of green light yielded Polterpup, who came bounding in as he always did, except that he could actually crash into Luigi now.

The scariest part of all this was Mario’s complete and utter silence. Once they’d gotten home, Mario had sunk into Luigi’s favorite armchair, putting his head into his hands as he stared at the floor and nothing more. 

Had Luigi not seen his brother’s shoulders tremble every so often, he never would’ve guessed the other was crying. Nothing was quite as unsettling as a Mario who didn’t make a sound.

Luigi took a breath (as useless as that was for a ghost) and drifted close, then closer. Even without a heart to break, it was still crushing to see his brother like this. Slowly, silently, he reached out toward Mario, his arms flung wide, and tried to hold his brother close.

“GAH-AH-AH!” Once again, Luigi failed at touch. The only thing his effort had earned him was his brother’s attention, his stare as icy as the limbs that had phased through him. “Wh-why would you do that?”

“I thought I could do it that time,” Luigi said sheepishly. “Give you a hug, I mean. I just…I hate seeing you like this, bro. I can’t do anything about it.”

Mario said nothing, instead meeting Luigi’s blank green eyes, glowing somewhat brighter than the rest of his verdant presence.

“I guess I can’t do much of anything right now.” Luigi looked away, surprised at how his eyes could still water. “I-I’m sorry, Mario.”

“For what?” Though rough around the edges, the response was still Mario’s.

“For making things worse.” Out of the corner of his eye, Luigi could see something flicker. Whether it was a trick of the light or not barely registered to him. “Y-you’re trying to w-work through this, and you can’t do it while I’m still hanging around, c-can you?”

“Luigi, what are you saying?”

“I can leave!” Luigi felt something run down his face; whether they were tears was up to debate, no doubt something E. Gadd could study and solve. “I-I-I can leave you alone for as long as you want me to! After E. Gadd’s done with me, I’ll just find somewhere to haunt and leave…leave you…” There was no doubt about it; the lights around them were flickering brightly now. “I can leave you alone!”

“What?!”

Luigi sniffled, shutting his eyes to Mario's surprised stare. “How c-can anyone grieve when someone’s hanging right over their shoulder? I-I shouldn’t be here! All I’m doing is making t-things worse!”

Pop!

It wasn’t until Luigi felt Polterpup’s cold nose brushing up against him that he dared open his eyes. The once warmly-lit room had gone dark; the only source of light was Luigi himself, casting a green glow across everything within a foot of him. He saw Mario, his face shadowed as he stepped forward, approaching Luigi with an emotion he truly couldn’t read.

“Please.” Never had Mario sounded so choked up, so desperate for anyone to hear him out. “Please don’t leave. I’m…I’m sorry.”

For a moment, the brothers could only stare at each other, blue eyes meeting green as shock encountered sorrow. It wasn’t until Polterpup floated Mario’s way, nudging his hand for pets, that the older of the two cleared his throat.

“It’s just…it’s hard,” Mario said with a sigh, scratching Polterpup right at the top of his head. “I never thought I’d outlive you. Nothing was supposed to hurt us.” He blinked back a fresh wave of tears. “I have you back with me, and that should be enough. Why does it still hurt?”

“Mario…” Luigi had a hand raised to his mouth. “Mario, I ended up like that cat. The dead and alive one? Schrodinger?” He bounced a finger off his forehead. “No wonder this whole night’s been such a mess!”

“Luigi, you are very much dead—”

“Literally, I am. That’s why I’m a ghost.” A shiver ran down his back. “But you had to find my body. You had to bring me back. You saw that, without a doubt, I am dead. And yet here we are, right by each other’s sides as always.”

Mario opened his mouth to speak, then brought a hand to his face, thinking as the hairs of his mustache bristled his index finger.

“You feel like you can’t move on from this because I’m still here,” Luigi said. “But I’m also not, and we both need to work that out. We need to grieve—even if I’m making things a bit awkward.”

“You’re not!” Mario reached out to shove at him, his hand passing right through his spectral sibling. “But you’re right. I can’t just sweep the whole death thing under the rug and continue on like nothing’s happened. Because something definitely did happen. I can’t deny that.” When he stepped back into Luigi’s light, there was a small smile on his face. “I’m sorry for all the times I’m probably gonna start cryin’ outta nowhere, but you’re right. I need to work through this.”

“And I’ll be here for you,” Luigi said, “every step of the way.”

Mario chuckled. “You promise? Because if you ascend to another plane of existence or whatever by the time I accept this, I’m gonna—”

“I promise!” Even Luigi was laughing now. “Cross my heart—”

“What heart?”

“You know what I meant!” Finally, tears from something happy rather than horrifying. “I’m gonna make sure you take all the time you need, and then some. And the best part?”

“Hm?”

“I’ll always be right here.”