A Spirit Between Us (bxb)

Chapter 23 - Under it's control.

"Whoops. Sorry!" some jerk snickered after 'accidentally' slamming his shoulder into Archie's. It was barely enough to make him stumble, but the intent was clear. Archie didn't even react. He was used to this by now. It was everyone else's way of taking cheap shots since no one had the guts to pick a real fight with him.

It was normal.

Just like showing up fifteen minutes late to class, only to stare at his desk for the rest of the hour, pretending to take notes.

Just like walking to school in silence this morning, the air heavy around him, every step dragging him closer to another pointless day.

Just like spending lunch alone, tucked into the farthest corner of the library where no one could bother him, not that anyone tried.

Normal.

Except nothing about this was normal anymore.

Every time Archie closed his eyes, he saw Finn. His body writhing in agony, his screams tearing through the air. The sound haunted him, echoing in the quiet moments, clawing at his thoughts.

The memory of carrying Finn's limp body back to his house because he refused to leave him. His arms had ached for hours afterward, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the gut-wrenching terror of seeing Finn so lifeless, so broken. Archie's tears had soaked into Finn's shirt as he'd sobbed the entire way home, begging for him to wake up, to give some sign he was okay.

But Finn hadn't stirred.

And now, watching him from a distance, Archie couldn't shake the hollow ache in his chest. Finn wasn't the same. Archie could see it in the way he carried himself, the strange stiffness in his movements, the empty look in his eyes.

It wasn't Finn.

Not entirely.

When Finn had finally come to after collapsing, Archie had felt a surge of relief, one that was quickly crushed. That black smoke had returned, swirling around Finn like it had during the football game. Thick and suffocating, it clung to him, moving unnaturally, almost sentient.

Archie had frozen, his breath catching in his throat. He'd watched, heart pounding, as Finn sat up. His movements were wrong, too smooth, too deliberate. And then he'd spoken.

It had been Finn's tone, Finn's inflections, even Finn's usual awkward phrasing, but Archie knew in his gut that something else was speaking through him.

He'd barely managed to hold himself together, pretending he hadn't noticed, playing along as if everything were fine. But everything wasn't fine. Finn wasn't in control, and Archie had no idea how much of him was even left.

Now, as he walked through the school, pretending that life was normal, Archie's hands shook at his sides. His stomach churned every time he thought about that smoke, that voice. About Finn.

Finn, who he loved more than anything.

Finn, who was slipping away from him.

And Archie had no idea how to save him.

The smoke hadn't disappeared. Instead, it clung to Finn like a sinister shadow, an ever present reminder that he was no longer entirely himself. It swirled around him in dark, restless tendrils, shifting and pulsing as if alive. Archie couldn't bear to look directly at it for too long. It seemed to writhe in response to his gaze, like it knew he could see it. Worse, it made looking at Finn agonizing, a cruel twist for someone Archie cared about so deeply.

He'd tried everything to bring Finn back, to anchor him to reality. He'd spoken to him like before, his voice soft and pleading. He'd begged him to fight, to remember who he was. Archie had shared memories, cracked jokes, anything to resonate with the Finn he knew, the Finn who loved football, who hid a shy smile when someone complimented him, who carried the weight of the world on his shoulder.