Torn Apart

Do This With Me

Note: Trying to fix a gaff, so if a few details do not mesh with previous chapters, I apologize. If there is ever a rewrite, I would absolutely fix the flow properly, but as it is, any repair details from Arthur are corrected by THIS chapter, and not in previous ones. My thanks to Backuppixiedust for checking this. Also, sorry it took so long. Crash-n-burn + vacation + getting back in the writing groove.

....

Scrape. Scraaaaape. Arthur winced at the scratches the charcoal soldering block left as he dragged it to the clear spot in the back of the van. "Aji, there's a silver pot looking thing on the shelf over there." He jerked his head at the lowest side shelf opposite him, sagging under the weight of Uncle Lance's send-off equipment. "I need it. No, the other one. Yeah."

Wordless, Aji retrieved the pot and set it next to the block. Arthur inspected the locket. The first crack from their initial encounter ran from top to bottom, forking just before it hit the bottom. It didn't cut all the way through the metal, or the locket would have fallen apart before now. But it looked like Vivi's curse had spread five extra fault lines off the main crack. Gingerly, he pried the locket open. Light shone through a couple of the new fault lines, confirming it had split all the way through the metal in a few of the new spots.

Using a pair of tweezers, he dug the tips under the photograph inside and cautiously peeled it free of the locket. The heart thrummed once in warning.

Arthur didn't hide his irritation. "Yeah, I'm sure you'd like that destroyed when I start work. Silver isn't flammable. Paper is." Still, he tucked it safely out of the way in a pouch on the side of his work bag.

A pair of tongs had been tied to the pickle pot by a length of cord. Using his prosthetic hand, he clamped the open locket firmly in the tongs, unsealed the pot, and lowered the locket in.

"That's not welding it," Aji muttered.

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "No, it's cleaning it so that I can weld-solder. Solder it. Do you mind?" He brought his real hand around to cup the side of the pot. For a moment, he pictured Aji in his mind, her hands wrapped around Kay's neck.

His hand burst into fire, green flame curling around the pot. He took a few deep breaths, easing back, and the flames lowered. He needed the mixture warm, not boiling.

"Is that thing that killed Lewis really gone?" Aji asked.

"Yes. I thought Mystery covered this with you," Arthur muttered. "I asked him to."

"Yeah, well, he's not sure. He said you weren't totally you, and sometimes you're less you than usual. And the Kingsmen I knew couldn't make fire."

"Yeah, well, the Aji I knew wasn't a murderer."

Silence.

Minutes ticked by, and he lifted his head to get a look at the dashboard clock. He couldn't afford to mess this job up.

"I'm serious, Kingsmen. Are you really trying to help my brother?"

"Your brother is beyond help!" Arthur snapped. "As you have been happy to rub in my face for the last several months. I'm trying to help your sister. The one you have left, in case you forgot about her while you were busy-"

"Stop!" Her hands flew to her ears. "Stop! I know!"

Arthur shook his head, snorting. Pulling the locket out of the solution, he held it up to drip-dry. "There's a bottle of yellow stuff in the bag, looks like vegetable oil. I need it."

He watched Aji dive for the bag, rifling through it. He felt no guilt for digging at her shame. He'd had more than enough of that from her. She set a bottle labeled "Flux" next to him, and he raised his hand to grab it.